This week’s episode features Chapter Twelve of Black Brick. Here is an excerpt from the show:
SHANNON GRIMACED WHEN SHE heard Cherry’s voice and her demeanor changed. Before, Shannon had been alert and ready for anything. Now, her face tightened, and she twisted her neck to either side. I hoped she wouldn’t do anything stupid. If she did, I’d have no choice but to back her up.
Of the four of us, Cherry was the most cautious and the least likely to do something that would get her caught, but I wasn’t surprised that she was nervous.
It wasn’t that she wasn’t capable or a good shot—she was calmer in stressful situations than Tom—but I’d always seen her as the weakest among us. I wasn’t the only one. Shannon and Tom were protective of her too, which isn’t a good sign if you’re a spy.
The conversation continued, but I wasn’t paying attention to the words. I listened for the sound of her voice, willing away my desire to rush blindly to her aid. I grabbed Shannon’s arm as she made a move for the door. She glared at me and held up her pistol. She didn’t aim it at me, but her message was clear. Get out of the way.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I wondered why Payne hadn’t just shot Cherry outright. He wasn’t one to have a conversation when a bullet could do his talking. I pushed the question away with relief that he seemed content to banter with Cherry, whatever his reason.
I pointed to Becca. “We can’t let her get hurt.” Becca had become pale and was cowering in her chair. Her arms were folded as if she was trying to hug herself.
I whispered an instruction to Becca to get under the desk while keeping my eyes on Shannon, I expected her to bolt towards the door.
I tried to think of a way to keep Shannon from barging out, but by the time Becca had crawled under her desk I hadn’t been able to come up with anything. I couldn’t let Shannon go alone, but I also wanted to live through the day.
“Tell me how many more there are,” Payne said, “and it will go better for you.”
Cherry snorted, but it was cut off with a shriek.
“Wait to see if they walk past our door,” I whispered. “We’ll take them from behind.”
War of the Fathers – Chapter Two is up on YouTube:
This week’s episode features Chapter Eleven of Black Brick. Here is an excerpt from the show:
AS I STEPPED INTO the high-rise office building, I resisted shaking my head to get the ringing out of my ears. From what I could tell, my hearing was normal, even though it felt like there was cotton in them. It had been close to an hour since we’d left the site of the train bombing and I hoped that the ringing would soon go away. It was making my headache worse. Or maybe it was the other way around.
Shannon and I had popped into the bathroom of a gas station and done our best to clean up. I had smoothed out my hair and done what I could to make my coat presentable. I was lucky that I was wearing a black shirt as well as a black suit, the blood stains that I was sure were there weren’t showing.
There were several minor tears in the fabric of my suit jacket, but nothing that would cause the casual passerby to take special note of me. If anyone looked too closely, they might wonder, but I doubted that anybody would suspect that I’d survived an explosion.
Despite our better judgment, we’d also taken a moment to call Black Brick to give an update on what happened. Beltran’s voice was calm, but I could tell he was struggling to keep it that way. Initially, he’d ordered us back to Black Brick. I had pointed out that Cherry and Tom were chasing a mad man with a team of thugs by themselves so unless he was willing to call them back as well, we needed to catch up. There had been a long pause before he’d spoken.
“Find Lauren Griffith and Payne, kill Payne if you have too. Then get back here. It won’t be long before the police are looking for you. In all that confusion somebody took pictures of you two, guarantee it.”
The podcast is going up on YouTube, here is the first episode:
This week’s episode features Chapter Ten of Black Brick. Here is an excerpt from the show:
I OPENED MY EYES with a start. The heavy smell of smoke, burning rubber, and blood filled the air. The train car had been cast in gloom, but there was light overhead. From my vantage point, I couldn’t determine the exact source of the light, but I could at least tell that some of it was coming from a fire. Alarmed, I looked around and was relieved that I couldn’t see flames.
How long had I been out? I looked at my watch, but I couldn’t remember what time it had been when the bomb had gone off. My best guess was that I’d been unconscious for only a few minutes. I hoped it hadn’t been longer. The emergency response crews would be on the scene shortly, Shannon and I needed to be gone before that happened.
I tried to stand but slipped and fell, knocking my head against an armrest. The floor was wrong. I looked up and saw rows of seats on the wall. I felt foolish for not remembering that the train car had been knocked over by the blast.
Once I was on my feet again, I could see that the light was coming through the broken windows that were now overhead. My original assessment that the reflected firelight had been coming from outside was correct. I could just see the tips of flames dancing out there.
When I took a step, shards of glass crunched underneath my foot. I paused and tried to listen for the emergency response vehicles over the sounds of the nearby burning fire and the cries of injured passengers. It was made doubly hard because there was a ringing in my ears as well.
A wave of guilt hit me when I heard a long groan.
I had done this. I’d thrown the bomb out the window.
Taking a deep breath, I released it and closed my eyes. I hadn’t been responsible for this, and I knew it. I tried to put the matter from my mind; this was something to deal with later.
“Shannon?” my voice came out unsteady and cracked. It sounded far away. There was a dull ringing in my ears. I licked my lips and tasted blood. I tried a bit louder. “Shannon.”
“Nice job dummy,” Shannon said.
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.”