by Alex Cage
“Hmm,” Black exhaled, walking into The Spinning Sails.
Inside was quiet but cluttered. Black walked around looking at the different sailing pictures, Jet Skis, life jackets, and other water recreation items for sale.
It wasn’t long before one of the workers approached him. “Can I help you find something, sir?” an ivory-toned blue-haired girl asked, smiling.
Black faced her with a smile of his own. “Nope, just browsing.”
Her smile grew. “Okay. Just to let you know, we’re running some specials on our sails and Jet Skis rentals this week. If you want more information on it, I can give you the breakdown.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
“Okay, sir. Let me know if you need anything,” the girl said, turning away.
“You know, I do have a question,” Black said as she was pivoting.
The girl faced him again. “What’s that?”
Black pointed his thumb to his left. “Those storage units. Do you guys rent them out?”
The young lady shook her head in the negative. “Oh, no, sir. You’ll have to go to the office next door if you’re interested in renting a unit.”
Black nodded. “Thank you. And—I like your hair.”
Her dimples cratered her cheeks as she tried to conceal her smile.
Black left The Spinning Sails and walked up the sidewalk and into the white commercial building. To his right was a counter with a computer monitor, mouse, and keyboard resting on it. Directly ahead was a door, and to his left were a few sitting chairs. It was completely empty and silent.
“Really?” Black muttered to himself, looking behind the counter. There was no one working the front and he didn’t see any indication that anyone would be coming, either. He turned and left the building. As he was about to cross the street, something caught his eye—a blue Impala parked in the lot of The Spinning Sails. From the passenger side stood a teenager whom Black had never seen, a kid with light brown skin and a low-fade cut. From the driver side exited the same blond-haired blue-eyed guy Black had chased the day before. He was wearing a new pair of shades and a cocky look.
The kid with the low fade lifted a backpack from the car and threw it over his shoulder. The other guy waved at him and said something that Black couldn’t make out, due to the distance and the noise of passing vehicles. The one with the backpack then shrugged and set it back inside the car. The two made their way to the sidewalk, heading towards the white building. Black turned around, looking innocently in the opposite direction as the two approached. They strolled up the sidewalk and into the building, using the same entrance that he had used just a few minutes before. A moment later they stepped out again. The blond guy looked around and hunched his shoulders before shaking his head in a disappointed fashion. Black watched from his peripheral while pretending to admire the view of the harbor. The two stood looking around for a couple of seconds before the blond guy pulled his phone from his pocket and held it to an ear. He spoke into it while raising his free hand in the air. It was a gesture of where are you? Then he stood still a beat, listening. After a few seconds, he nodded and put the phone back in his pocket. He spoke to his buddy while gesturing further up the sidewalk. The two continued in that direction.
Black tailed them, dodging other pedestrians and taking in the sight of the Dwight D. Eisenhower Highway bridge about a half mile before him. The young men walked for a few minutes before making a right at the corner of the old Maritime Recreation Center. Black looked around the corner, watching, as they climbed over a wrought iron gate and dropped with a thump onto the shabby wooden deck beyond it. The two then continued through the opening of a chain link fence. The one with the low fade was looking to his left over the water at a docked naval vessel. The other was pointing at the side wall of the old Recreation building located to their right. The wall was in need of a new coat of paint. There were a number of metal roll-up doors down its length. The two continued creaking across the deck towards the end of the building.
Hopping over the gate was easy for Black. He zipped through the chain link fence and carefully crouched down at a corner wall next to some wooden crates where the shadows provided shade and cover. Pressing his palms against the chill damp wall, he peeked and saw the two guys stopping near the end of the building. They stood at one of the metal doors, looking around as if they were expecting someone. Within seconds, the faint droning of a motor approached from the bay. It was a Jet Ski. Operating the Jet Ski was a woman wearing dark sunglasses with red hair tied into a knot. The two guys turned their attention towards her as the Jet Ski bounced over the waves. They exchanged a few words that Black couldn’t make out. He quietly climbed on top of the crates and pulled himself up to the roof of the building, which was warm from the sun. He inhaled the stench of tar as he bellied across the roof towards the two young men. Soon he was above them—not directly, but about three yards away. Black quietly rolled to his side and peeped over the ledge.
The woman turned off the Jet Ski, jumped onto the dock, and tied it off. She reached to the back of her head, removing a clip, letting her hair down, and whipped it in a circular motion before running her fingers back through it.
“You’re right, she’s hot. She looks older,” the young man with the low fade whispered.
“Yeah, she’s in her mid-twenties, but don’t be fooled by her looks. She can be real feisty. I think it’s a redhead thing,” the other whispered back.
The woman squeaked across the deck towards them. She used her index finger to push her shades up her nose. “You made it,” she said.
Her accent. It’s Czech, Black said to himself.
“Yeah. Where’d you go? I thought you’d be at the front office,” the blond guy said. “There’s no one working the front.”
“So? Not like I’m expecting a lot of customers or anything,” the woman said before looking at his buddy.
The blond guy smiled. “Johana, don’t you think your dad would get upset if you’re not working?”
The woman glared at him. “Don’t use my name in front of company. Who’s this?” she asked, nodding at the guy with the low fade.
“This is Matt—the one I was telling you about. He’s cool.”
Johana looked Matt up and down. “So, Matty. You look way too young to be a cop. But how do I know you’re not wearing a wire?”
“What?” Matt said.
“C’mon. I told you he was cool,” the other young man said.
Johana stepped up to his face. “You mean like you said you could handle the protest at Fisherman’s Wharf yesterday?”
The guy said nothing, looking away and shaking his head.
Johana walked over to Matt. “Lift up your shirt,” she said, removing her shades.
“Huh? Why?”
“Do it!” Johana demanded with stern eyes and flexed jaw muscles.
Matt glanced at his buddy. The blond guy hunched his shoulders. Matt sighed, lifting his shirt. Johana browsed over him front to back. She patted his pants legs and checked his pockets before taking a step back.
“Well, I guess you’re clean, Matty,” she said, giving him a wink.
“I told you,” the other guy said.
Johana rolled her eyes. “So do you know what it is we do here?” she asked Matt.
“Kinda.”
“Kinda?” Johana repeated briefly, glancing at the blond.
He returned with a shrug that said, what do you want me to do about it?
“Let me ask you something, Matty,” Johana continued. “Are you an only child?”
“Yep.”
“Are your mom and dad still married?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. Do they love each other?”
“I’d say they do.”
“Do you think they love you?”
Matt hesitated before answering, “I’d say so.”
“Hmm.”
“Hmm what?”
“Must be nice to have the perfect family.”
&
nbsp; “Wait, you got—”
“Dad goes to work and Mom stays home. At dinner everyone sits around the table smiling and happy.”
Matt raised his palms to Johana. “No, you mu—”
“Taco Tuesdays, Friday family nights, Dad and Mom so in love, and you’re their straight-A, bow tie-wearing, pride of life, little Matty. I bet y—”
“You don’t know the first thing about me!” Matt shouted, interrupting. “My dad is hardly ever home, and I can’t remember the last time I saw my mom smile!”
Johana eyes widened, but she was quiet.
Who are these kid’s parents? Black thought.
“And straight-A?” Matt continued, laughing nervously. “I’m close to being kicked out of school. I don’t like my life. I don’t want to go to school, and I definitely don’t want to go home.”
“Okay, okay, calm down, Toben,” the blond guy said.
Johana patted Matt on his shoulder. “Sorry about that, Matty, I didn’t mean to excite you.”
Matt exhaled.
“We know what you’re going through,” Johana said, pointing between herself and the other guy repeatedly. “Let me show you something,” she said, waving for them to follow her to one of the roll-up doors.
The sound of keys clinking, a lock snapping, and then metal grinding rang in Black’s ear.
“I have a lot of toys, Matty.”
The three disappeared into the storage unit.
Black slowly pushed himself up with his elbows. He heard the wooden deck squeak and immediately he dropped back to his belly. He looked over the edge and noticed a brunette with an athletic build making her way towards the recently opened storage unit. Her hand rested on her holstered firearm.
She was twenty feet away from the unit. Then fifteen. Then twelve. Black heard whispers of concern waft from the unit. The brunette made it about ten feet from the unit before Johana slipped out.
“Hold it right there, DHS!” the brunette yelled, one hand still resting on her gun and the other hand thrust at Johana, palm forward.
Johana threw her arms up. Her eyes were fixed on the other woman in jaw-dropping bewilderment.
“Matt?” the woman called.
Matt and his buddy stumbled out, the latter with raised arms. “A—Ashley?” Matt stuttered. “What?—what are you doing here?”
“I should be asking you that. Who are you two?”
“They’re just my friends.”
Ashley took her hand off her gun.
Johana and the blond guy relaxed, lowering their arms.
“Friends, huh? Why are you not in school?”
“What are you, my mom?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Then don’t act like it.”
“Shut up. Your father sent me for you. Let’s go.”
“I don’t care. I’m not going anywhere.”
Ashley’s eyes narrowed and her lip poked out. Matt sheepishly stared at her face. He stood quiet, looking away briefly.
“This is going to go one of two ways. Either you come with me with both your feet on the ground or I drag you out of here by your feet. Your choice.”
I like her, Black thought to himself.
Matt looked at his two ‘friends.’ “Man, I tell you,” he huffed, walking past Ashley, barely missing her shoulder.
Ashley watched him as he passed before turning her attention to the others. “Who are you two?”
“I’m just a friend—” the guy quickly said.
“I work here—” Johana said at the same time.
Ashley directed her next question at the young man. “Shouldn’t you be in school too?”
“No. I graduated a couple years ago.”
Ashley took a step in the direction of the storage unit. “What’s in there?”
Johana scooted closer to the unit, blocking her path. “This is private property. We take our clients’ privacy serious, so you can’t go in there.”
“Huh. Who did you say you are?”
“I work here. My father owns the place.”
“And who is your father?”
“Do you have a warrant?”
“Not yet.”
“Are you charging us with anything?”
“Not yet,” Ashley repeated.
“Well, I have some work to do. If you don’t mind leaving, I would like to get back to it,” Johana said with a smile, throwing her hand out towards the front of the building.
Ashley shared her gaze between the two of them. “I’ll see you around,” she said, turning and following Matt to the front. They watched until she and Matt disappeared around the corner of the building.
The young guy with the blond hair dropped his head and exhaled. “Phew! Good thing she didn’t go into the storage unit.”
Johana looked at him with a grin on her face. “Yeah. Good thing for her,” she said while lifting a gun from behind her back.
Black immediately noted that it was identical to the other two unmarked guns he had taken possession of.
“Whoa. Were you actually going to use that on her?” the young guy asked.
“If it came down to it,” Johana replied, aiming the gun at him.
“Wait—wha—what are you doing?”
“Ahh great,” Black whispered to himself.
“I thought you said he was cool,” Johana raised her tone.
The kid stumbled back and lifted his hands in an attempt to shield himself from the gun. “I—I thought he was,” he stuttered.
“Then why was the Department of Homeland Security here looking for him?”
“His dad works for them.”
“Oooh, that’s just brilliant, genius!” Johana fumed, pushing the gun’s muzzle closer to the young man’s face.
The guy dropped to the wooden deck butt first. His hands remained in a shielding position. “Please!” he cried out in shuddering fear.
I better help him, Black thought, using the ledge to carefully lift his body.
“How do you think they found him?” Johana demanded.
No, she’s not going to kill him. She’s smarter than that, Black relaxed at the thought.
The guy didn’t answer.
“Hey, I asked you a question.”
“I—don’t—I—don’t know.”
Johana huffed. “Look at you. Get up,” she said, tucking the gun in her backside.
The guy slowly lifted himself to his feet. Johana stepped within kissing distance of him and used the back of her hand to brush off his shirt before resting that hand on his shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I just don’t want anything to throw a wrench in what we have planned. I tell you what. How about you go out of town this time and I’ll head down state. How about it? It’s Florida, the weather should be nice.”
The young man wiped her hand from his shoulder. “I already checked, there’s going to be some rain.”
Johana sighed. “I think you should go anyway. The heat is heavy here and we can’t afford another—”
“What? Another mistake like at Fisherman’s Wharf? Look, I told you some guy got in the way.”
“I know, I know. I just think you should let me handle things here because the state of California is on high alert, like how New York is right now. That’s all.”
“Yeah… maybe we should just hold off for a—”
“What?” Johana raised her voice.
“It—It’s just… we’re doing this to help kids, but I saw how kids got hurt in New York and I can’t get some of the images out my head. And you have guns and bombs. I just can’t…”
Johana paused and inhaled a labored breath. “There are always some that suffer for the greater good. Plus, we’ve come too far to quit now. You’re in too deep.”
The young man said nothing just dropped his head.
“I tell you what. After you come back from Florida, that’s it.”
“You mean we’re done?”
“Yep.”
“Ahh. Fine, I’ll go, b
ut that’s it for me.”
“Good. Wait here a minute,” Johana said, stepping into the unit. There were a few thumps followed by the sound of a drawer bumping open and then sliding closed. She came out with some documents in hand. “I thought you would agree, so I’ve already got the IDs and plane ticket ready for you.” She gave the guy the documents. “This should be easy. It’ll be nearly impossible to track it back to us,” she concluded, walking back towards the unit.
“I know. I just need the sauce.”
Johana closed and locked the roll-up door. “Right. I have it stashed up front, in the back. C’mon,” she said, leading the guy across the deck towards the front of the building.
Black slowly pushed himself up from the roof. He watched as Johana opened the swinging door to the metal gate and the two disappeared around the corner of the building. He climbed over the ledge, hanging by his arms for a couple of seconds before softly dropping to the deck. He looked towards the front of the building again to make sure no one was coming. Removing his lock pick, he walked to the storage unit that Johana had closed and locked moments before. He went to work and had the door open within seconds.
The unit was spacious and reeked of a gaseous-metallic odor. There were a number of tools scattered about, and parts that appeared to belong to some type of small boat or Jet Ski. On the right side of the room was a surfboard rack holding two boards. Under the rack was a toy remote control boat. Directly in front of Black was a workbench. There were pieces of blank paper scattered around it, a couple of pencils, some electric wire, a couple TV remotes, and a few short PVC pipes. On the upper left corner of the table was a small bucket filled with screws, nuts, bolts, nails, and other small metal pieces of the like. He noticed a large sheet of plywood resting against the wall to his left. He removed the plywood from that wall and settled it on the perpendicular facing wall, thus exposing a large toolbox with multiple sliding drawers.
