Fiction Vortex - August 2013

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  Instead of going home, Kastner made his way around the corner. He walked quietly to a shaded spot behind an oak tree, where he could remain hidden while still having a clear view of the parking lot. At 1:09 the woman exited the building with the other briefcase in hand and walked out into the parking lot. Kastner watched her from a distance as she stepped inside a black jeep with tinted windows, and then he heard the doors slam shut behind her. He glanced down at his watch again. 1:10. The air around him was cold and dry.

  There was a moment of frozen silence, and then a crashing roar ripped through the air. The jeep bounced off the ground as a giant fireball swallowed it up from the inside, the windows bursting out like confetti. Thick smoke billowed into the sky as the sharp sound of the blast gave way to the steady chirping of a dozen car alarms. Stunned passersby — some silent, others screaming and shouting — moved slowly toward the scene of the explosion. Kastner opened his briefcase just enough to see the big black book still safely inside, then closed it and walked away.

  Two blocks later, Marina caught up with him. She wrapped her arm around his, and he didn’t protest. "I’m glad you took the right briefcase back with you, cowboy. You never know with these things." She gave him her most alluring smile. The ponytail really did make her look younger.

  "I don’t know, maybe I should’ve taken the other one," he said with a smirk. "Who knows what I’m in for now?"

  "I guess you’ll just have to wait and see."

  As they walked down the crowded street, Kastner caught something in the corner of his eye. Sitting on the patio of a small café across the street was a face he knew — the man in the white hat. He watched them with something like pride. As Kastner turned to face him, the man tipped his hat in their direction.

  They walked on, dark smoke rising in the distance.