Harbor Seals
The nuclear powered Ø class container ship Maersk Obama was the largest vessel in the Danish shipper’s fleet. Indeed, at over five American football fields in length, with a capacity of nearly 350,000 tonnes deadweight, she numbered among the largest freighters in maritime history. Despite her size, the Big O, as she was known, got by with a crew of only three: captain, chief mate and engineer, who navigated the giant ship across the Pacific in fifteen days, finally arriving in the San Pedro Channel in early April, 2048.
Due to her extreme draft, the Obama could not enter the Port of Los Angeles. Instead, she waited 30 days for her turn to dock at the eight mile jetty of Long Beach. Even with the jetty’s fifteen cranes and twin monorails working at full capacity—an uncommon event due to frequent labor stoppages—offloading of the Big O usually took more than a month.
Intermodal cargo container MSKU0017010, came on board the Obama at the Port of Kaohsiung, People’s Republic of China. It was small by intermodal standards, but its currogated steel walls housed a highly sought after commodity: 415 units of Zedek10 A/V reality glasses. Each unit retailed at nine thousand dollars in the U.S. Widely considered the most advanced gaming glasses available, they sold for well above their list price on the black market.
The light weight of container MSKU0017010 meant it was one of the last loaded onto the Big O, and therefore one of the first offloaded by overhead crane at Long Beach. Once on the jetty’s maglev monorail system, the container made its trip onshore in five and a half minutes. It was then picked up by shore gantry and shuttled to the port stacks, where it waited, buried under ten other containers until spring gave way to summer. Finally, on the evening of June 29, a robotic gantry uncovered the container and loaded it onto a chassis trailer pulled by an Electro-Freightliner driven by a beturbaned man named Anil Shindi.
At the sound of the gantry’s klaxon horn, Anil closed the lid on his travel mug, filled with Assam tea brewed so strong it could double as paint remover. He popped a cold potato samosa into his mouth and waited for the wheels of the gantry to clear his truck. When the signal light switched to green he threw his truck into low and began to move forward to the exit. The time was 10:05 p.m.
Anil passed the security checkpoint, where a guard compared his port ticket to the seals on his container. A single bolt-seal the size of a fountain pen protected the double doors and four tamper proof sticker-seals covered the lower hinges. Satisfied that all the seals were intact and the cargo was secure, the guard released the truck to the next checkpoint.
Anil drove another minute, then exited his cab and walked around his rig, locking the pins that attached the container to his chassis trailer. He looked for any safety issues and seeing none, he climbed back into the cab to join the traffic jam at the port’s exit, where he waited in the queue for another fifty minutes. Finally cleared to leave, he accelerated onto Harbor Scenic Drive, passing the majestic RMS Queen Mary, permanently moored in the channel to his right.
After six minutes of driving, Anil abruptly took a clover-leaf exit and drove westbound into an industrial section of town, through streets lined bumper-to-bumper with dilapidated RVs, dimly lit from within. The hot weather had brought most of the inhabitants outside their motorhomes, and they sat on the sidewalk in lawn chairs under the flicker of LED streetlights, sharing stories, bottles and the occasional needle.
Anil continued beyond the motorhomes and came to a wrecking yard with a high steel fence painted red. Stenciled on the fence in six foot high letters were the words Bulldog Truck & Auto Dismantling. He turned the corner and parked across from the entry gate, then switched his electronic log to “off-duty.” He left his motor running for the air conditioning, then leaned back and opened his travel mug, taking a sip of tea. The time was 11:20.
After a few minutes, a dark colored Mercedes glided slowly along the side street. Its windows were tinted black. The car pulled in front of Anil’s truck and parked. Anil returned the travel mug to his console and straightened in his seat. He kept his eyes on the car while his right hand reached behind him, into the sleeper berth, and found the handle of a cricket bat. The blade of the bat had been shortened by twelve inches with a sawzall, to make it more useful as a defensive weapon.
The domelight inside the Mercedes lit up as its doors slid open on both sides of the vehicle. The passenger, a tall blonde American stepped out first. He carried a shotgun. Then a black woman emerged from the driver’s side. Although she was unarmed, Anil could not help following her with his eyes. Long legged, with thick curly hair swept away from her face by a blue bandana, she wore obscenely short denim cutoffs and a t-shirt with red Converse shoes. Her toned stomach and arms were heavily tattooed.
The blonde man stood in front of Anil’s cab with his arms crossed, brandishing the weapon over one arm while the woman climbed onto the side of his truck. Her face appeared in his window and she rapped the glass with a set of long gold fingernails. Tightening his grip on the bat handle, Anil rolled the window down.
“Are you Anal?” she asked.
“It’s Anil… yes.”
The woman flashed a thumbs up to the blonde man, and Anil quietly let go of the cricket bat.
~🌹~
Geo unlocked the gate to the dismantling yard and rolled it open while Anil drove his truck onto the lot. Namaste pointed to an open area beside a white box truck. Anil pulled into the space and shut his motor down. Carrying a toolbag, Geo went to the doors at the rear of the cargo container. Namaste and Anil joined him.
Opening the tool bag, Geo removed a heavy duty drill with a side handle. The bit was short and thick. Unlike a typical drill bit, its thin grooves wound around the shaft in a flat spiral. Geo found the heavy container padlock at the center where the two doors met. A metal box shielded the lock but an opening at the bottom allowed access to the keyhole. Geo made quick work of the lock and the cylinder dropped onto the ground after a few seconds of drilling. He removed the padlock and tossed it aside.
Next, Geo swapped the drill bit for a smaller one. He set the drill aside, and used a chisel-like tool to pound a tiny notch on a rivet that hinged the door’s locking mechanism. Then he set the tip of the drill bit in the notch and began drilling through the rivet. After a few minutes the rivet came apart and the lock lever dropped a few inches. The lever mechanism was still secured by the high security bolt-seal, but it was no longer connected to the door’s lock-rod. Geo turned the four lock-rods and pulled the doors open.
“We’re in.”
Geo faced Anil and gestured to a forklift by the box truck.
“Start transferring this load to the other truck. When you’re done, I got some pallets to put in your empty.”
Anil got to work with the forklift while Geo and Namaste walked across the gravel to the oversized shed that served as the dismantling company’s office. They found two plastic chairs and sat down. Namaste used a piece of cardboard to fan her face.
“We should have brought some cold beers,” she said, propping her feet on an overturned bucket.
Geo peered through the office window. “Let’s see what they got inside.” He took the hammer from his tool bag and smashed the glass pane. “You told them to leave the alarm off tonight, right?”
“How you think we got in the front gate?”
Geo unlatched the window and slid it open. He crawled through and after a few minutes he came out the office door holding two longneck bottles, cold and dripping with condensation.
“Cheers,” he said.
Namaste accepted the bottle and took a swig. Geo couldn’t help but notice how the fabric of her t-shirt clung to her breasts, exposing every curve and nuance. He sat down and held the wet bottle against his forehead.
“How can it be ninety degrees at midnight?” he said. “We’re next to the fucking ocean.”
Namaste chuckled. “Human activity. Increased greenhouse gasses. Try reading a book sometime, G.”
When Anil finished moving the cartons of Zedek10 glasses into the white box truck, Geo got up to show him a row of pallets stacked with bags of fertilizer. Geo had swiped the lot from outside a Home Depot earlier that morning.
“Move that fertilizer into your truck. It’ll keep your weight up for the scales. We don’t want any nosy inspectors wondering why you’re underweight.”
The whole charade was designed to throw suspicion off Anil when the container got to its destination.
“When you’re done, I’ll drill a new rivet on that door. We’ll slap some sticker-seals on your hinges and you can go.”
“When do I get paid?” Anil asked.
Namaste jumped from her chair, her brown eyes ablaze. “You get your money when I say so, Anal. Now get to steppin. We ain’t got all night.”
~🌹~
After they’d paid Anil, Geo and Namaste caravaned to Sombra’s TransGlobal Productions warehouse, not far away. Geo drove the box truck through the rolling door and into the massive garage. Namaste parked her Mercedes outside and burst into the warehouse in an ebullient mood. Geo watched as she waltz-stepped to the center of the garage, singing out in a country-tinged voice, clear as a bell.
Shine on me sunshine, walk with me world, it's a skippidy-do-da day.
Geo raised his eyebrows. “What the hell are you singing?”
She grabbed the two long chains that hung from the rafters overhead and pulled them close, holding them like a dance partner.
“How much you figure we’ll clear, G? After we fence them glasses, minus Evelyn’s cut?”
“Seven, maybe eight boxcars.”
Namaste paused mid-step. “A piece?”
“Seven for you, seven for me.” Geo grinned. “Minimum.” He leaned against the front of the truck, while Namaste twirled with the chains, singing out louder.
I'm the hap-pi-est girl, in the whole U.S.A.
She was a strange bird, he thought. Full of surprises and sharp as a tack. She had set up this heist months ago, only telling him about it the day before. Namaste knew damn well what their net was going to be. She wanted to make sure he knew the figure, and that it was she who let him in on the job.
Geo watched her hips swaying in those shorts, and the way the crease under her ass cheeks flashed when she moved. What kind of game was she playing?
“Let’s get going, Nam,” he said.
“Motherfuck me... Is that a…” She stopped cold, then scampered over to the side of the room, weaving her way through rows of parked luxury cars. “It is... Geo, come see this shit.”
He walked over to where she had her face pressed against the window of a long black gas powered sedan. The car was brand new, and still had protective plastic sheeting over the body panels and interior seats.
“It’s a Maybach. My fuckin dream car, G.”
“I always saw you as more of a Rolls girl.”
“Fuck the Brits. Give me a German car any day of the week.”
She tried the door handle and it released with a satisfying clunk. Namaste glanced at Geo. Her eyebrows went up and her mouth silently formed an O shape. She pulled the door wide open.
“You can probably afford the down payment on one of these now.” Geo said.
“I’ma get me a chauffeur first. Someone gotta hold the door for me while I step out in my finery.”
Namaste sat on the rocker panel and pulled her shoes off.
“Don’t wanna get dirt inside,” she said before climbing into the passenger compartment. The plastic sheeting rustled as she stretched out on the leather.
“These seats recline to a full-size bed. Get in, G.”
Geo shook his head. “That thing’s probably going to the Sheikh. I don’t want to fuck it up. We gotta go anyway. Come on.”
Namaste tilted her head at him and lowered her voice. “Don’t try’n tell me you ain’t curious what it’s like inside here…”
Namaste’s hand fell, tracing a lazy circle on the inside of her thigh, and she held his gaze for several moments before Geo pulled his boots off and climbed into the car.
~🌹~
When they finished, the plastic sheeting was in tatters and the passenger cabin smelled like sex. Geo stepped out of the car and pulled his jeans up. Namaste got out too, but she showed no interest in getting dressed. She went to the next car, a convertible roadster, and slid into the driver’s seat.
“You know what I’m going to do with my money, G? I’ma go down to the Sink Terry. That’s in Italy. Get me a Ferrari and drive like I’m in Formula One.” She put her hands on the wheel, her arms straightened like she was racing.
“Cinque Terre,” he corrected her, with proper pronunciation.
“Fuck you and your Italian blood. You should come with me. We’d have a blast. I’m sure little Pipoca won’t mind. She be locked up soon anyway.”
Geo stopped buttoning his shirt. “What are you talking about?”
“You ain’t heard? Cops got her Saturday night. She just got out. Nobody knows what she told them motherfuckers. Chefa say we gotta keep the girl at arms length, least until she in the clear. If she ever be.”
Geo stayed quiet for a moment. He tucked in his shirt.
“She wouldn’t have told them anything. She’s not that way,” he said.
“Don’t you go callin her, Geo. I see you thinkin. Chefa would have your ass on a skewer. Let the girl go. We got bigger fish to fry. Tania’s got her wheels in motion and fore you know it, Lisa’ll be in the clear and back in your arms. And if not, then say la vie. Whatever will be will be.”
Geo nodded and picked up his boots. “You’re right. Will you get your clothes on? I still need a ride home.”
~🌹~
Lisa figured there was trouble when she couldn’t get a hold of Tania by text or phone call. Now, as her Robo rounded the sweeping curve of Evelyn’s driveway, the sight of flashing lights confirmed her suspicion.
She’d called Tania earlier that evening to let her know the good news, that Thornfield had agreed to work for Sombra, and she’d obtained a supply of the nano drug Tania had been anxiously awaiting. When Tania didn’t respond, Lisa texted Skylar.
👨🏻🎤—hey Lisa what’s up?
👩🏻—I’m trying to find ur wife is she home?
👨🏻🎤—sorry she went to the mansion said she’d b back late
👩🏻—k if u hear from her tell her I got the package she’ll know what I mean
👨🏻🎤—will do sweety
Knowing time was of the essence, Lisa’d decided to deliver Thornfield’s yellow hardcase to the mansion personally. If the cops questioned her about the trip, she’d say Evelyn and her were friends. A late night visit wasn’t outside the realm of possibility.
Leaving the Robo with the meter running, Lisa walked past the ambulance parked on the mansion’s circular drive, its rear doors open. She peeked inside. It was empty, its gurney gone. Lisa gulped and rang the doorbell.
After a few minutes waiting, she pressed the bell again and knocked. Finally the door swung open. Aaron stood in the entryway, his grey jacket as unrumpled as his demeanor.
“Lisa. What brings you here at this hour?”
Aaron had just strung together more words than Lisa had ever heard him speak before.
“I have something for Tania. Is everything okay. Is Evelyn okay?”
“You should not be here. Give the package to me. I will make sure Tania gets it.”
Lisa handed over the shopping tote. Aaron took it and stepped aside as two EMTs wheeled a gurney out the door and into the waiting ambulance. Lisa caught a glimpse of a young girl on the bed. Her deep tan and blonde dreadlocks looked vaguely familiar. Lisa had seen the teen wandering the mansion, but she had no clue who the girl was. Just before the ambulance doors closed, Lisa heard an EMT mention naloxone. The girl had overdosed.
“What happened Aaron? Is she going to be okay?”
“Let me give you some advice, Lisa. Keep your eyes, your ears, and especially your mouth shut.”
His tone shocked Lisa. Her jaw clenched, but before she could object, Aaron placed a hand on her shoulder.
“I am telling you this for your own good. You need to handle your own business right now. Keep away from the mansion.” He bent his head to whisper in Lisa’s ear. “For your own safety.”
~🌹~
Next: Lucky Thirteen
This story just gets better and better, John!
Thank you, Sharron. That’s my goal!