Black Brick - Chapter Nine

This week’s episode features Chapter Nine of Black Brick. Here is an excerpt from the show: 

THE BLACK BAG HAD a large zipper at the top for the main compartment. There were several pockets on the side. After I checked the outside pockets and found them empty, I eased back the large zipper, wondering if it had been booby trapped. Once it was open half an inch, I put my index finger into the bag and felt the zipper as far as my finger could stretch. I felt nothing but the zipper teeth. Odds were it would be safe for me to open the bag but I would still have to be careful.

There was a disturbance behind me. I turned as a large African American man pushed to the front of the crowd that had gathered several feet away from Shannon and me. He had a good couple of inches on me in height and was broader as well. His suit hung off his frame in a way that underscored the fact that he was in good shape. As he pointed a hand at us, I could see his bicep threatening to burst open the sleeve of his jacket.

“What are you idiots doing?” he asked. “You’re gonna get us killed.”

I shook my head. “The man that left this won't hesitate to blow us up.”

The black man took another step forward.

“Stay back,” I said. He looked like he'd be able to handle himself in a fight but I didn't have time to duke it out with him. I needed to take care of the bomb.

As I sized up the man, I wondered how he would respond if I escalated the situation. Would he back off? There was little chance that he was armed. Knowing that Shannon would chastise me later, I took out my pistol but kept it pointed at the ground. We needed to get this bomb off the train or disarm it, and we needed to do it now. I couldn't afford to let this man become a distraction.

“He has a gun,” yelled a woman. She continued to yell, but I couldn't make out what she said because she was drowned out by screams from other passengers. I didn't take my eyes off the man in front of me as I waited for him to respond. His eyes went to my pistol. The lack of alarm on his face made me wonder what he did for work. Had I guessed incorrectly? I felt a stab of panic and hoped that he didn’t have a gun. Was he a federal agent? A detective?

“Well, that didn’t help,” Shannon muttered. “I’d put away your pistol before somebody decides to be a hero. That black guy looks like he could break you in half.”