The Random Affair

by James H Roby

  "How-how did you get in here?"

  "Wasn't it you who sent me the invitation?" Jordan frowned and tucked in his lower lip. He spun on his heels looking at all of people surrounding Small. He got to an overweight woman with blue-gray hair and a dark dress. A plate of shrimps and meatball covered in something orange balanced on her portly digits.

  "Are you eating that?" Jordan asked as he plucked up a hor d'oeuvre.

  The people Small had been sucking up to grunted and sucked air sharply through clenched teeth as they turned on their heels.

  "All your friends left," Jordan said. The only thing missing from his face was a single tear sliding down.

  "God dammit!" Small shouted. A few heads turned in his direction and he lowered his voice. "You messing with my livelihood, Noble! It's one thing to come to my place of business with wild accusations, but quite another -"

  "Fuck you." The transformation was instant. Jordan’s eyes bore into Small’s – his jaw went slack and his hands actually flew up into a defensive posture.

  "Why don't you tell me about your deal with Cody Random," Jordan said with a smile. He realized he was in control of this situation. Small’s fear almost had a smell to it – sweat with a touch of his warm breath.

  "Look, I don't know any Cody Random," Small said after a huge gulp of air. Jordan arched his right brow. It was almost impressive how this little man was actually trying to fight back. It would have been more so if the drops of sweat weren’t rolling down his cheek. Jordan drew closer to Small. The crowd vanished into a shapeless, soundless blur he was only slightly aware of. Their eyes locked. Small turned away only to look back at Jordan as to not appear to be too weak.

  "You don't know Random like I do," Jordan whispered. "He'll kill you without a second thought. He's done it before, he'll do it again."

  "I don't -"

  Jordan held up his hand to stop Small. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Look, sooner or later, it's gonna come down to me and Random, if you’re in the crossfire..."

  Jordan stopped. E-Man broke into his perception with quick hand signals. Danger Close. Jordan looked to his left. Robin came through the crowd to return to Small’s side. His face lost intensity as eyes widen and jaw dropped.

  “Ah,” Small said. Jordan cursed himself for letting his focus slip from the enemy. Robin stopped to talk to someone. Jordan had an exit but Small intervened.

  "So," Small’s voice was a hiss escaping out of his teeth. "Robin has told me a lot about your relationship with her. Yeah, how you two were going to get married. How she wanted to wait and you two never...you know. How...Noble of you."

  Jordan scowled but Small would not be denied.

  "She didn't wait, by the way." Small smiled. "Yes, she's quite a passionate woman. With quite an...appetite. I mean, once you get her hot, I mean, really hot, man, there's nothing she won't do. She makes this sound that’s like, uh, let's see...you know the one. Oh, I guess you don't."

  Small laughed a little. It was his moment and Jordan had given it to him. He glanced and Robin was hugging someone and smiling wide.

  Five, maybe six seconds away. He stabbed his thumb into Small’s side just below the ribs. Small’s took in a deep breath but nothing seemed to fill his lungs.

  “Watch your back.” Jordan gave his thumb a twist, causing a yelp to escape from Small. He moved off just as Robin reached Small's side. She hadn’t seen him - he still had the training and skill of an intelligence operative even if he didn’t have the discipline.

  Small’s words were beating down his resolve. The idea of Small touching her let alone…being with her was damning enough without reminding him of the promise he made to Robin. To wait until they were married. When Jordan last saw Robin she was a virgin. He was not naive enough to believe that condition lasted too long.

  The more he dwelt on it the more meaningless everything became. The service, his life. He was a failed agent and a failed man. He couldn’t even keep the woman he loved. What was the point?

  He bumped aside the other guest as he wandered. Scoffs and gasps followed him. He came to a chest high floor blocking his path. He looked up to see a runway had been set up in the room.

  Ah, the main event of the Fashion Gala.

  As if waiting for Jordan to discover the stage, the music stopped and a disembodied voice spoke. “Ladies and Gentlemen. Welcome to the First Annual Metro Detroit Fashion Gala!”

  The voice was male but sounded like it had been influenced by helium. A round of applause preceded Helium Voice thanking a list of sponsors. He might have well been spouting out last night’s baseball scores – Jordan heard nothing.

  A light show started with spotlights of every color flashing around the room. What passed for House music thumped out of speakers – too much bass, not enough soul. Jordan looked for his team so he could gather them and leave. He found no one and returned his eyes to the stage just as a parade of models marched forward. The women came within inches of Jordan, only to turn sharply at the head of the 'T' the runway formed. Jordan had quite unknowingly positioned himself in a prized location to watch the show. All around him, people shoved to get a better view.

  ~

  Cody Random’s planned route was almost at an end. He twisted a doorknob and emerged in a makeshift dressing room. Dashing about him was half-dressed models preparing for the upcoming show. He strode the dressing area with the same air that he had in the rest of the building. If anyone thought that Cody didn't belong there, he or she said nothing. He came to the curtain that separated the backstage from the runway and crowd beyond. He pulled back the long black trench coat he wore and slid his hand into his pants pocket. When his hand encircled a small vial, he allowed a brief smile. He poked his head through the curtain. As he did, somewhere a voice was announcing the beginning of the fashion show. A troupe of models got into position and, on cue, moved out onto the runway. The crowd broke into applause as the show began. Spotlights flooded the stage, momentarily blinding Cody. When he regained sight, he scanned the crowd for Kevin. Instead of his contact, Cody's eyes landed on quite a surprise. He placed his hand on the gun holstered to his side. An evil grin came to his lips as Cody hissed out a single word.

  "Noble."

  ~

  Jordan looked again for the rest of the UrbanKnights. Anything was better than being here. Nothing would come of it. A flash of a strobe light illuminated the faces of Small and Robin. They literally beamed - smiling and pointing like the happy couple they were. Jordan sighed and forced himself to watch the show. Maybe he could learn something about this fashion world and what attracted Robin to it. He turned back to the stage and something caught his eye. Off to the left of the stage - like someone was peering through the curtains. A spotlight blinded Jordan for a moment. When it moved on, Jordan could see clearly who was at the curtain. He gasped out a name. "Random!"

  It was just like Random to appear in the most unexpected place. Shock froze Jordan. It was long enough. Random drew a gun, but didn't point it at Jordan. The gun was fitted with a laser sight. He turned in the general direction Random aimed. Robin stood, as beautiful as ever, but this time with a tiny red dot on her forehead.

  Chapter Eleven: The Battle in Cobo!

  “No!”

  A few brows wrinkled at Jordan's shout. He jumped onto the stage and caused a more profound effect. The models panicked and screamed. They jostled around, not sure what to do with the new addition to the stage. Helium Voice spat out a profanity. The final piece was the gunshot. Both audience and models acted with one accord. Screams of terror drowned out the DJ’s selection. Jordan drew his weapon just as Random vanished to backstage. Jordan covered the distance to the curtain in two leaps. He reached the curtain and paused long enough to look in Robin's direction. He was greeted with her face, still attached to her head, twisted in a mask of shock, anger and confusion. He wished he could explain but instead he took comfort he saved her life.

  The backstage area was a world of conf
usion. Half-dressed women darted in every direction, screaming their heads off. A model with Naomi Campbell looks was coherent enough to point in the direction Random left. Jordan bolted in the direction. He kicked open a pair of fire doors. The hallway beyond was empty save a portrait of the Brown Bomber. He flattened against the wall. Gun first, senses reached out as he worked his way down the hall. A squeak of a door sounded behind him. He whirled and came face to face with a dark man who looked at least eighty years old.

  "Don't shoot!" the man said. He wore gray janitor overalls.

  "I’m not going to hurt you, sir," Jordan said. He lowered his weapon and eased out a smile, yet his voice fought back bitterness. Gus, by the name tag on his overall, wasn't Random and Jordan was wasting time. He turned when gunfire rang out behind Gus. The janitor screamed and arched his back at the impact of a shot. Jordan dove forward and forced the old man back into the room he had just exited. The two men landed abruptly in a closet as several more shots zipped by.

  Jordan came to his feet and aimed down the hall in the direction of the shots. He fired three rounds at empty air.

  "Jordan Noble!” Random shouted. "Miss me?"

  "With every bullet so far." Jordan peeked out and the hallways was still empty. A wicked laugh bounced off the walls. The click and clack of weapon reloading was next.

  "This is not the manner in which I wanted us to get reacquainted," Random shouted. "This is so impersonal."

  Jordan said nothing this time. He knew which direction Random was – probably just around a corner. What he was doing here was the question. The time for that would come. For now, Jordan took a moment to stop Gus' bleeding. He found a reasonably clean rag and pressed it to the old man’s arm.

  "How's it going, old timer?"

  "Are you supposed to stop that guy?" Gus asked.

  Jordan smiled as he had never really thought of it quite like that. “Yeah, I guess I am."

  "Well," Gus said between winces of pain, "get off yer ass and hop to it!"

  Jordan gave the old man a nod. He came to the door and aimed down the hall. Random was at the hall’s end, ten yards away, doing the same. A trio of shots from the P7M sent Random scrambling for cover.

  "Oh, ho!" That was a fair bit of shooting, Major Noble! Don't you think you victimized the Random family enough for one lifetime, though?"

  Jordan knitted his brow. Random was trying to unhinge him. Major Noble no longer existed. Some kind of amateur mind game. He crept down the hall ready to fire again. Just as he moved out of the closet, Gus moaned loudly in pain. Jordan retreated to check on the elderly man.

  "You OK, Gus?" Jordan whispered.

  "Hell, nah! I'm shot!"

  Jordan leaned in, now examining Gus closer – an exit wound surrounded by a circle of dark crimson stain was on the shoulder. Didn’t look too bad. Still, gunshots were one of those better to deal with now than later things.

  Outside, Random railed again. "I'm so sorry I missed your lady friend. But I’m sure I'll be afforded another opportunity, later."

  The pain and embarrassment congealed to a ball deep in Jordan’s gut. At Random’s words, it expanded to an all-encompassing sphere that engulfed him. Training, discipline be damned. He burst out of the closet. Random rushed from around the corner. The two men stood transfixed - face to face for the first time in four years. Both men had their weapons at the ready. As one they leapt the side, Jordan left, Random to the right side. Weapons flashed fire. Random’s shot went wild. Jordan struck the wall and his shot too flew to meet nothing. Random scrambled to his feet in the second Jordan recovered from his impact. He dashed through a fire door, Jordan followed an instant later.

  The portal led to a stairwell. He listened for a moment and Random's footfalls betrayed his position. Random's body was barely visible as it descended.

  "Cody!" The sound of whistling shots made Jordan hugged the wall. The bullets ricocheted all around followed by the distinct sound of a hammer striking an empty chamber. Jordan raced down the steps. Something struck his legs sending him face forward to the landing. The shock of pain put him back on his game and he kicked out and returned the favor to Random. They crashed down nearly atop one another. On impact, a vial fell from Random’s pocket. Jordan got back on his feet, while Random was still on all fours. He reached out for the vial and Jordan shot the outstretched limb. Random raged like an animal and instinctively kicked out. The blow caught Jordan in his chest. It was a good kick, no doubt fueled by desperation. Air returned to Jordan’s lungs just in time to see Random crash through a red fire exit at the bottom of the stairs. Jordan took chase again, pausing only to scoop up the fallen vial.

  The metal door crashed as Jordan put his shoulder into it, revealing the section of Civic Center Drive running under Cobo’s upper level. The street was filled to capacity with limousines honking horns and the Fashion Gala’s attendees screaming voices and fleeing for their lives. This was not the way this night was supposed to go.

  Jordan spun, eyes sharp for Random. He saw the man, running west towards Joe Louis Arena. The Heckler & Koch P7M reached out like an extension of his arm. He had fired it hundreds of times and targets further than the forty yards or so between him and Random. Of course, it all those times, fifty people weren’t scrambling around, running for their lives.

  Not a full second went by when the space between him and Random was devoid of innocents. He held his fire and let the cool of the night wash over him. He breathed in deeply and returned his gun to its hiding place under his jacket. Everything in him wanted to take the chase, but he chose to watch his opponent leap in a car and speed away. There’d be another time.

  Around him swirled a chaos in color. People who never ran a step in their lives dashed about. The gunshots went off so quick, he was sure no one got a good look at him. Well, almost no one. He wondered how the crowd would feel if they knew one of the shooters was in their midst. He wasn’t interested and disappeared back through the door as the sound of police sirens sliced the night air.

  The metal stairs tapped under his feet. He became aware of the pain and shock he had just put his body through. Nervous energy started to escape him. A tremble started in his hands and threaten to overtake him completely.

  None of that. Not now. He willed away the shock. Work still needed to get done. His hand slid into his pocket and examined the vial he picked up. He didn't know what it was, but it seemed important to Random. It would have been better to have Random, still having something he wanted gave a bit of pleasure to Jordan. And, perhaps, the first break in this case.

  ~

  “I don’t remember nothing!” Gus told a trailing police officer. “Some crazy white boy shooting up the place. I ain’t seen nobody’s face!” Paramedic wheeled Gus out of a nearby door, away from the main entrance. He was only a dozen feet from Jordan.

  Gus and Jordan eyes met for a moment. The old janitor raised his chin. Jordan returned the gesture. The paramedic lifted Gus into the ambulance. Code of the street: no snitching.

  Jordan felt a warmth come over him. At least something went right. So far it seemed like his rash action hadn’t ended the UrbanKnights before they got started. As if his thoughts conjured them up, the limo he rented for the night came into view. The vehicle was locked in traffic like all the others and his three partners stood to its side, awaiting their fourth member.

  "What's going on?" Malcolm said.

  "It's a madhouse!" Don said.

  E-Man took Jordan by the arm. He was a bit ruffled from his encounter with Random. Fighting his way through a panicky crowd didn't help him catch his breath.

  "What's going on?" E-Man asked.

  "Random." The name came out like a gasp.

  "Jesus!" Malcolm said. "What happen? Are you OK?"

  Jordan nodded as his friends led him over to the limo. He drew closer and could see through an open rear door, Akio sat in the vehicle. He came to a stop.

  "Akio," he asked, "she OK?" />
  E-Man nodded. "Yeah, she's a little shook up though. She'll be alright." He held up his arm. Jordan got the message to give her some space for the moment. He nodded and climbed into the front seat with the driver. The rest of the team got in the back.

  Jordan said, “Can you get us outta here?” The driver, a young man with short dreads stared at his client. Getting over the breach in limousine etiquette, the driver turned on the car and began his navigation. Jordan loosen his tie, leaned into the seat and went into a fitful sleep.

  Two hours disappeared as the limousine traversed a block to Atwater and ultimately Jefferson Avenue. From the Fist of Joe Louis at the foot of Woodward Avenue, a swarm of red and blue lights winked on and off. The accompanying police directed traffic to the Chrysler Freeway.

  “Let me out here,” Jordan said. He got out on Jefferson in front of the Renaissance Center and directly opposite the UrbanKnights’ office. He went to the rear passenger window. It lowered with an electronic whisper, revealing E-Man’s face.