Don't Be

            by Noah Isaacs

 

The sun pierced through the thinly spread layer of clouds above. It was early still, and the morning warmth made the rainy forecast seem unlikely. Ellis Redding stepped out of his Lincoln Town Car and stretched his neck, looking side to side. He wore a navy coat, white shirt, red striped tie, and a knit cap emblazoned with three yellow letters: FBI. The man he was looking for was buying a cup of Seven Eleven coffee. He looked foreign in his Hawaiian button down shirt, Sean John jacket, and Forty Niners baseball hat. Redding went back in his car and waited. The blue paint on his targets car had begun to peel, and marble in some places.

Redding sat in his car, meticulously planning his next move. It didn’t appear that force would be needed, but Redding put his gun in his holster. His eyes never left the vicinity of his target. For a moment they made uncomfortable eye contact that ended in Redding ripping his eyes from his target’s gaze. The target slowly left the Seven Eleven, sipping his hot coffee. Just as he stepped into his car, Redding started his engine. With a vroom the chase began. What started slowly ended in Redding flashing his target down, and making him pullover. Ellis exited the car, and carefully made his war towards his target’s.

“License and registration please.” The target reached for his glove compartment. “Nice and easy,” Ellis said, feeling for his gun. “Alright Mr. Abas, please step out of the car slowly with your hands on your head.”

“What’s the problem sir?” Abas casually asked. He his hands were still, his palms dry against his head.

“You’re going to have to come with.”

“What’s this all about? All my papers are in line; I’ve been living here for twelve years. I am guilty of nothing.”

“Just come with me sir, I don’t want to use force.” Ellis hand cuffed Abas and escorted him to his Lincoln Town Car.

“Where are you taking me,” Abas pleaded. Ellis kept his eyes glued to the road and kept his lips tightly pursed, his knuckles white against the steering wheel. After several uncomfortable minutes, the silence was broken.

“Who are you staying with in America?” Ellis asked.

“My girlfriend. What does she have to do with this?”

“I want you to call your girlfriend.” Abas remained motionless. “Now!” Redding said, his face becoming red. “You owe us some money.”

“Who is ‘us’?” Abas asked, skeptically.

“I’ll ask the questions, thank you. Just call your girlfriend and ask her for five thousand dollars. I’ll let you know the drop off when we get closer.” Abas took out his phone and began dialing, his eyes scanning Ellis up and down.

“Hello. No. Look I’m in some kind of trouble with the FBI. No I didn’t do anything. I just need five thousands dollars. Can you get that together for me? Just figure it out, this guy doesn’t seem to be messing around. I’ll call you later and let you know where to drop it off.” The phone clicked shut. “Where are you taking me?

“Shut up. Keep quiet unless I tell you otherwise. Got it? Just nod.”

            Abas nodded his head and closed his eyes. His hands in his lap clenched as he cracked his knuckles. His jaw clenched and his mouth opened, but no words came out. The seatbelt was drawn tightly across his chest.

            “Call your girlfriend and tell her to drop off the money at the Home Depot on San Pablo. Tell her to come alone; it’s important that this stays between you and the FBI, not even the police can know. It’s all hush hush”

            “Hello, honey, did you get the cash? No? What happened? Well how much do you have?” Abas frantically asked. “All my girlfriend could come up with is one thousand… sorry,” Abas said, pulling his head away from the phone.

            “That will have to do. Fuck! Just make sure she comes alone.”

            “Bring the money to the Home Depot on San Pablo, and come alone. I love you too.”

            “Alright, hang up.”

            “Does this have anything to do with…?”

            “I can’t say, but I can tell you this; keep quiet if you know what’s good for you. Do you read me?” Abas put his head in his hands. He was tired of being pushed around.

            As they entered the Home Depot parking lot, Abas took his hat off, and placed it against the windshield.

            “What the hell are you doing?” Redding asked.

            “It’s hot alright. Can you crack the window?”

            “Where the fuck is your girlfriend?”

            “I don’t know she said she was going to be here. Do you want me to call her?”

            “I can wait.”

            They sat awkwardly, the silence deafening. The perspiration on Redding’s for head glistened. Redding put his head down for a moment. Knock, knock, knock. Redding’s head shot up frantically. There was someone knocking on his window. As Redding looked around his car and over his shoulder, he saw five men dressed in black, all with matching caps.

            “What the fuck is going on?” Redding asked, his eyes wide, voice quivering. Abas just smiled.

            “Who the fuck…?”

            Before Redding could finish what he was saying one of the men broke the cars window, and threw open the door.

            “Tom get me out of here.”

            “You know these guys?” Redding asked as he was violently pulled from his seat.

            “Yea, they’re with me. Take him to head quarters.”

           

 

*                                              *                                              *

 

 

Redding was sat down on a cold metal chair, in an empty room with one large mirror.   

            “I Demand to see my attorney!” Redding screamed.

            Abas walked coolly into the room, his eyes never leaving Redding’s. Abas threw Redding against the wall.

            “Who the fuck do you think you are? Do you have any idea who you’re fucking with? Do you know the shit you’re in? I pity you.” Abas spat.

            “Who are you?”

            “Me? Who am I? I am Mushin Mohamed.”

            “But your I.D. said your name was Abas.”

            “No Shit. We’ve been following you for the past six months, waiting for you to slip. I guess today was our lucky day.”

            “You keep saying us and our and we. Who are you guys?” Redding asked nervously.

            “F.B.I.. You really thought that you could get away this; abusing your power, kidnapping people and holding them for ransom? Are you really that stupid, that arrogant? The F.B.I. doesn’t have room for a rat,” Mohamed said, pacing the back and forth.

            Redding’s eyed grew red, tear glazed. The metal was cold against his sweaty back. “But I needed it.”

            “Needed what, you sorry piece of shit? Needed the thrill, the money, what?”

            “The money,” Redding said, defeated.

            “How could you be so reckless? How could you totally disregard the laws and morals we live to protect?”

            Redding put his hand in his pocket. He took out his wallet.

            “What the fuck is that? You going to try and pay me off? Are you kidding me?”

            Redding took a picture out, his hand trembling as he placed it on the icy metal table. Mohamed’s eyed fell on those of a young girl, her hair falling out, eyes dull, and lips lifeless.  Redding dried his eyes with a swipe of his hand.

            “That’s my daughter.” Redding said.

            “We all have family.”

            “I didn’t want to kid nap people, but I’ll do just about anything to keep my baby alive. Do you have any idea what it’s like to have a five year old with cancer? Waking up every night to her cries.”

            “Look if you needed help that’s one thing, but as soon as you took it into your own hands, and broke the law, black mailed the innocent, and disgraced the F.B.I. that’s where you fucked up. I understand that you were doing it for your daughter…”

            “You understand? You understand? You can’t, you never will, not until a doctor tells you your child has two years left. She’s not supposed to make it to third grade. You don’t understand shit.”

            “I’m sorry.”

            “Don’t be.”