Bayside Boom

by Alex Cage

  He came out of the shower wearing a towel and sat down on the bed. On the nearby desk he noticed the small device left behind by the young man he had pursued. He went to pick up the device and sat back down on the bed. He held the device in one hand to inspect it, flipping it around and tilting it from side to side. It was a small clear plastic tube. Inside it were some wires and a couple of tiny circuit boards. On one end, a wire about one inch in length was sticking out of the tube and on the other end was a red button. Black knew exactly what the tube was: It was a remote detonator for the improvised explosive device the guy had dropped at the pier. He exhaled, lying back on the bed.

  “ORLANDO BLACK,” BOYAR announced as Toben and Ashley entered the office.

  “What was that?” Toben asked.

  “The picture of the guy you sent. His name is Orlando Black. His file says he served in the military as a captain. Was in a few Special Forces units and received a number of commendations. The guy is a hero.” Boyar turned back towards his computer. “Something strange, though,” he added.

  Ashley walked over to her desk and sat.

  Toben walked up behind Boyar, arching and looking over his shoulder. “Strange how?” he asked.

  “The time he served after leaving Delta Force and before leaving the government is locked.”

  Toben pinched his chin thoughtfully. “Hmm.”

  “Maybe the government had him in something top secret.”

  Toben nodded. “Based on what you found out about him, do you think he’d have any trouble making an IED bomb?”

  Boyar chuckled. “This guy? No trouble at all.”

  Toben stood straight and exhaled in thought.

  “Oh yeah. The director wants to see you. Looks like this incident spiked the interest of another agency.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure the FBI is all over this.”

  “Probably, but that’s not who the director has in her office.”

  “Who’s in there?”

  “The DIA.”

  Toben’s eyebrow raised and one corner of his mouth followed in a smirk. “What are they doing here?”

  Boyar hunched his shoulders.

  “I’ll go see her. While I’m doing that, look over this footage.” Toben handed Boyar a CD.

  “Also, Kristi called a couple times,” Boyar said.

  “Yeah… I need to talk with her too.”

  Ashley, staring at her computer, let out a sigh.

  “You okay, Ashley?” Boyar asked.

  Toben looked at her, dropping his head slightly before leaving the office. He walked to the door of Director Hanten’s office and knocked.

  “Come in,” Hanten’s voice called.

  Toben stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. In Hanten’s office was a coffee table. On one side of the table was a sofa, and on the opposite side, two chairs. On the sofa sat Hanten and in one of the chairs, a man. He was wearing a suit and had his legs crossed. He had a head full of dark hair and a clean-shaven medium-tanned face. He had beady eyes and dimples. Not cute, inviting dimples, but the rigid, cold kind.

  “Agent Toben. This is Special Agent Karl Stokes with the DIA,” Hanten said, gesturing in the direction of the man.

  Stokes stood and reached out to Toben. They shook hands.

  “Nice to meet you,” Stokes said.

  “Same here,” Toben replied. His forehead wrinkled as his hands moved to his hips. “DIA. Don’t you guys handle more of the foreign intelligence gathering?”

  “Well, this is a special circumstance,” Hanten jumped in.

  “Yes. I’m with a special unit of the DIA. We handle more of the… domestic affairs,” Stokes said.

  Toben said nothing.

  Stokes sat down, crossing his legs again.

  “So, Agent Toben. You said you’ll fill me in on that lead you were following,” Hanten said.

  “Oh, well, I don’t have much to share right now,” Toben said softly.

  “Okay then. I want your team to assist Agent Stokes and his team on an investigation.”

  Toben cleared his throat. “What investigation is that?”

  “There was a bombing attempt earlier today at Fisherman’s Wharf,” Stokes said. “Did you hear about it?”

  Toben shrugged. “Yeah, I heard about it.”

  Hanten scowled. “We already know that’s where you were earlier.”

  “So why ask?” Toben asked, looking at Stokes.

  Stokes hunched his shoulders.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Hanten continued. “Just share what your team knows with Agent Stokes’ team.”

  Stokes exhaled, standing from his chair and buttoning his blazer. “No need. We already have what you have,” he said, walking towards the door.

  “Which is?” Toben called after him.

  “Everything. We’ll find this Orlando Black. We’ll be in touch.”

  “Wait—” Toben started, but Stokes had already exited the office. Toben turned to Hanten. “We don’t even know if Black is our guy.”

  The director stood, sighing. “I guess we’ll know soon enough.” She pointed to the door. “That’s all for now, Agent Toben.”

  He eyed her and then shook his head before walking out.

  OUTSIDE OF THE hotel, Black was lingering, wavering on which direction to walk. There was a lot on his mind, and staring at the four walls of his room wasn’t helping. He wondered how a kid so young had gotten involved in a bombing attempt and how he had been able to get his hands on the materials for an explosive device.

  He was about to cross Kearny Street, but something caught his eye. It was a white Honda Accord parked in the hotel’s driveway. A very popular car, so it wasn’t that which concerned him; it was the people in it. Black glanced in the direction of the car a few times, pretending to make sure no traffic was coming down the street while inconspicuously observing the Honda’s occupants. They were two men. Both wore shades and had their lips set in stern, straight lines. The one behind the wheel had a messy crew cut with dirty blond hair sprinkled around his face. The guy in the passenger seat had a smooth face and a textured Caesar cut. His hair was a silky black. He looked Asian.

  Black shrugged it off. He didn’t sense an immediate threat, so he crossed the street and, after a time, arrived at a park in Chinatown. A walkway led him under a structure with a pagoda roof and a concrete floor. There were a number of benches, light poles, and small trees throughout the surrounding park, and moving amongst them were pigeons and a number of people. Most of the people were older and of Asian descent and were practicing what Black immediately identified as tai chi. Most were pretty good. He could tell they had been doing it for a long time.

  Black looked around, hunching his shoulders. Well, I guess I can get my practice in here.

  He began to go into his own tai chi practice with comfortable, slow, calm, graceful movements. Black was near the end of his form when he felt the eyes of someone on his back. He made note of it but continued to finish his form.

  He stood still with his eyes closed for a moment, allowing the energy from his exercise to sink down. “Are you going to stand there and just look at me for the rest of the evening?” he asked, turning around to face his observer.

  The man watching Black was an older Chinese gentleman. He was dressed in a traditional Chinese suit. His top was white, his pants black, his socks white, and his shoes black. He had grey hair with streaks of black, and there were wrinkles on his face and hands.

  “No, young man. I just think you are extraordinarily skilled,” he said. His English was very good.

  “Thank you, sir. Nice pajamas, by the way,” Black said.

  The man chuckled, walking towards Black. He had great posture, but there was a slight limp in his step.

  He extended his hand. “My name is Tip Jin.”

  Black shook it. “I’m Orlando Black.”

  “Good to meet you, Orlando Black.”

  “Likewise.”

  “Where did you learn that form?”
>
  “I picked it up in Asia.”

  Jin nodded. “Do you have time for a friendly spar?”

  Black’s head lightly tilted back, his eyebrows raised and his mouth slightly opened. “I don’t know…” he said, considering the old man.

  “Ahh, don’t worry about me, I’ll be okay.”

  “Okay, sure.”

  “Great. Over here,” Jin said, pointing to an area at the center of the park.

  The two men walked across the concrete towards the open area. Pigeons evaded them, making their coo roo-c’too-coo calls as they flew out of the way.

  “Is this good?” Jin asked.

  Black nodded.

  Individuals in the park began to circle around the two in anticipation. A breeze blew through the park, carrying with it the smell of stir fry, oak, and car exhaust, as well as echoing chatter.

  “Who’s this man?”

  “Master Jin is about to spar with someone.”

  “Come see.”

  “I saw this guy practicing, he’s pretty good.”

  “Jin is one of the best fighters in the world, though.”

  “Sifu Jin is fighting again?”

  Jin declared, “The one who makes direct contact first wins.”

  Black nodded and closed his eyes. When he opened them, he fell into a deep stance, fluently circling his guard hands in front of him.

  Jin dropped into a stance as well, slowing waving his arms. He made a move first, rapidly lunging at Black.

  Black’s eyes widened instantly. Jin’s fist approached him fast—faster than any opponent’s he had seen in a long time. He was able to evade the jab, barely. Jin’s fist missed his face by less than an inch.

  Black swung to his opponent’s side and shuffled backwards before gaining his footing and reestablishing his stance.

  The crowd continued to chatter.

  “Did you see that?”

  “Wow!”

  “No one ever eludes Master Jin’s first attack.”

  Jin relaxed, nodding his head. “Very good,” he said, smiling at Black.

  Black exhaled. This old man is fast. I better be careful or he’s going to show me up.

  Jin returned to his fighting position. He sprang at Black with a front kick.

  Black side-stepped Jin’s leg and made a move to double-palm push him, but Jin had already spun to his other side.

  Black’s nose crinkled and his teeth gritted. How did he—?

  The two circled around each other clockwise, attacking and parrying. Neither made direct contact. After a few seconds, they pushed off one another, both sliding back into a fighting stance.

  Black squinted.

  Jin cracked a smile.

  The two calmly stared at each other before closing their eyes. Their breathing was quiet and slow. In that moment, the sound of the crowd and the traffic on the streets died down. The breeze of the wind and the aroma of food disappeared. The men raced towards each other even as they opened their eyes.

  Jin waved his arms up and down in a diagonal path.

  Black circled his arms, one clockwise and the other counter-clockwise.

  They were quick. It was like watching two cars on a collision path. Some people from the crowd closed their eyes, shrinking away in anticipation of the impact. But there was no impact. The two men stopped face to face, perfectly in sync. Both their breathing deepened.

  Black had the edge of his hand touching the side of Jin’s neck.

  “Looks like you got me, young man,” Jin said.

  Black looked down briefly. “Looks like you got me too.”

  Jin’s hand was speared at his gut.

  The opponents stepped back from each other, and the crowd began to clap and chitchat.

  “I was right, you have extraordinary skills. Thank you for the opportunity to spar,” Jin said, cuffing his fist and raising it towards Black.

  Black slightly bowed. “The pleasure was mine, Master Jin.”

  Jin stepped closer to Black again. “You’re very good, but there’s something I noticed,” he said.

  Black’s eyebrow rose.

  “You probably already know this, but I sensed you expending much energy to hold back anger. If your anger was less kindled, you would’ve easily beaten me.”

  Black nodded, considering Jin’s words.

  “But like I said, you’re very aware of your movements, so I’m sure you already know that… Well, that was fun. Maybe we can do it again sometime.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “Enjoy your day, Mr. Black.”

  “You do the same.”

  Tip Jin walked off, stopped near a tree, and began to practice his forms.

  Black strolled out of the park and soon arrived at the intersection of Kearny and Washington Streets. He looked to his left to observe oncoming traffic and noticed the same white Honda he had seen earlier, but this time parked on Kearny near the curb.

  Are these guys following me?

  He crossed Kearny, continuing east on Washington. Traffic was only one way on Washington, heading west. No eastbound vehicle could enter. This will give me a chance to lose these guys, and if I see them again, I’ll know for sure they’re following me. Seeing the car only once could be nothing to worry about. Twice, not likely to be nothing—and three times, definitely not. Black continued up the sidewalk on Washington. The street was narrow like an alleyway at first, but after a while it opened up. He saw a number of small establishments and caught a glimpse of the Transamerica Pyramid on his left as he passed by. After another couple blocks, he ducked into a sandwich shop. He figured it would be a good time to fill up, especially since he hadn’t eaten anything since he had left the pier, and that was around brunch time. He placed his order and sat down, taking his time with his food.

  After finishing his meal, Black used the restroom then stepped out of the restaurant. The sun was setting and darkness was rapidly coating the sky. Parked across the street was the white Honda. Yep, they’re following me. He hiked back towards the hotel, but not down Washington Street. It would have made it too easy for the white car to follow behind him. He would have been an easy target. Not a smart move. But heading south and then turning west onto a street with east-flowing traffic, that would be a smart move. And that’s what Black did. The street brought him to the front left side of the hotel, and he quickly entered. He pretended to use a computer in the main lobby, which allowed him to covertly observe the front driveway of the hotel from his peripheral. A few moments passed before the Honda slowly crept towards the main doors. The car stopped for a few seconds and then pulled away, disappearing onto the road.

  Black walked to the desk clerk. This time it was a young lady.

  “Hello, sir. You need something?” she asked, smiling.

  Black smiled back. “Yes, I have a friend staying here. If I give you his name would you be able to tell me what room he’s in?” he asked.

  The young lady’s eyebrows slightly arched downward and the corners of her mouth pulled back, exposing her teeth. An apologetic expression. “I’m sorry, sir, but we don’t give out that information. It’s for the security of our guests.”

  “What if I’m law enforcement?”

  “Even so—you’d need a special warrant.”

  Black nodded. “I understand. Thank you.”

  He took the elevator up to his room and confirmed that everything was as he had left it. He gave some thought to who it could be that was following him. A long list of enemies ran through his mind. He soon shrugged it off and decided to turn in, figuring he would check out early the next morning and leave town.

  4.

  TOBEN ARRIVED HOME a little later than usual that evening. He whipped his car into the driveway of his two-story suburban home and parked next to his wife’s minivan. Looking at the house, he released a deep exhale before slowly exiting the car and going inside. The lingering aroma of dinner met him at the door.

  Toben smiled. “Kristi?” he called, shutting and locking the doo
r behind him. He walked towards the kitchen, turning into the living room. “Krist—,” he started, but stopped short when he saw her sitting on the couch, in the darkness, palming her forehead.

  Toben quickly walked over, sat next to her, and put his arm around her. “What’s wrong?”

  Kristi sniffled. She rubbed the back of her hand across her nose and looked at him. Her eyes were red. “Nothing, just another day for me,” she said, hunching her shoulders.

  Toben took his finger and settled a curl of black hair behind her ear, then used the back of his hand to caress her cheek. Her brown skin was smooth, though wet from her tears.

  Kristi turned her face away from his hand.

  “There’s something wrong,” Toben said, looking around the house. “And where is Matt?”

  Kristi faced Toben and sucked her teeth before releasing a deep sigh. “I told you he had issues at school again today.”

  Toben’s eyes narrowed and his mouth slightly gaped open. “I—I thought you met with the principal.”

  “I did.”

  “Wasn’t Matt there?”

  “Yes, Jake!” Kristi raised her voice. “If you were there, you would know this.”

  “Well, where is he?”

  Kristi looked away and chuckled, shaking her head.

  “Well?” Toben asked again.

  “I don’t know. On the way home from meeting the principal, he jumped out of the car and ran.”

  “What? Wh—Where did he go?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “What do you—”

  Kristi stood from the couch. “I mean I don’t know!”

  Toben carefully stood up with his palms facing her, patting the air. “It’s okay. Calm down.”

  “Don’t tell me to calm down,” Kristi responded, placing one hand on her hip and the other to her forehead. She walked into the kitchen.

  Toben followed.

  “I made some food. I wasn’t sure when either of you would get home.”

  “I’ll talk with him, okay?”

  Kristi shook her head, “Yeah. I’ve heard that before. We need you here.”

  “Look, you know—”