Detective Stern kicked in the door of the abandoned shed. He raised his pistol at the wall across the doorway and then the one to the left of him. He lowered his gun, “Hello?” he shouted into the darkness. There was no answer.
There was no one there. The place was truly abandoned. He holstered his pistol and pulled out his walkie-talkie, “The shed is abandoned. It must have been a prank. You know those damn kids these days. I’m leav-,” the sound of music cut him off. He redrew his weapon and walked further into the building as the tune got louder. It was familiar to him and the words popped into his head.
“All around the mulberry bush the monkey chased the weasel…”
He entered a room with several boxes laced together by wires. The detective raised the walkie-talkie back to his mouth while the music continued to play. He spoke with more urgency, “Yeah forget what I said. We got a strange setup here.”
“The monkey stopped to pull up his sock…”
“You might want to send a bomb-,” there was a ding and the chain of explosions went off. Flames engulfed Detective Stern as he screamed in agony.

A man with broad shoulders and a bald head looked down at the shed. There was an ear-bud in his left ear and an Ipod in his hands. He nodded his head and pressed play on the Ipod. The music began to play softly in his ears.

“All around the mulberry bush the monkey chased the weasel…”

He hummed along as he stared down at the shed.

“The monkey stopped to pull up his sock…”

He stopped the music right before it got to the “pop” in the song. The shed below him exploded into a flaming pile of wooden shrapnel and ashes. After the initial explosions stopped he let a smile cross his face. He removed the ear-bud from his ear and placed them in his pocket along with the Ipod. He turned and began walking back to his car while he whistled the rest of his tune.

“Goes the weasel.”


Detective Main got the call about the explosion the next morning. The Commissioner told him about the casualty of just one. No one knew who the man who was killed in the explosion was. Or that’s what he had Sergeant Rankin tell everyone. But Main had special privileges; he was the top detective in the city and got all his information straight from the Commissioner. He was told that morning that the victim of this bombing was a friend of his; Detective Stern.
He went to the sight of the explosion early with the rest of a bomb squad and a few other detectives. He had been on the force for about ten years now, and he had never heard of any planned bombings in the city. He had no doubt that this was a freak accident. But something told him that there was some premeditation involved here.

He pulled up to the wreckage and stepped out of his slick black charger. His black leather shoes crunched every time they hit the ground. He knew the wood and shrapnel wood be all over, but he couldn’t help thinking that every crunch was a little piece of Stern breaking beneath his feet. A gust of wind blew and he pulled his collar up in his jacket – ash and dust blew up from the wreckage. Main made his way to one of the members of the bomb squad.

“Morning,” the man said with a nod of his head.

“Morning,” Main responded. He stood next to the man and began to survey the wreckage, “So what are we looking at here?”

The bomb squad member shrugged, “Well we don’t have any sign of faulty gas lines,” he looked at a sheet of paper in his hands and drew in the air with a pen, “or any gas lines at all for that matter.”

Main nodded and turned to face the man, “Do think this was premeditated?”

The man’s eyes widened and he shrugged while shaking his head, “I don’t see why it would’ve been. I mean it only killed one guy in the middle of nowhere, but I guess it’s a possibility.”

Detective Main nodded and walked further into the wreckage, “Well we don’t have a history of bombings here,” he nudged a large piece of shrapnel with the end of his foot, “it could’ve been a test run of sorts.”

The bomb squad member jerked his head and shrugged his shoulders again, “Well than I would expect another one of these soon if that’s the case.”

Main shot a look at the man and then nodded slowly in agreement. Another car pulled up behind them and a man dressed similar to the detective got out of the car. He began to walk toward the two of them. Detective Main looked over at the bomb squad member, “Let me know if you find anything,” he walked to meet the other detective who had just arrived. They met half way in the wreckage.

The man was Officer Raymond. He belonged to the same place as Detective Main and shared equal enthusiasm for justice. He shook Main’s hand and nodded his head, “So what have we got here?”

Main shook his head, “No body, no sign of fingerprints, and no background of bombings to look to.”

Raymond made a face of doubt and scanned the wreckage.

“I’m going back to the station,” Main began to walk back to his car, “Let me know if you find anything suspicious!” he hollered back as he stepped into the vehicle. He drove off into the city.

Officer Raymond was a bit of a rookie on the force. He had been around for a couple of months, but nothing big happened in the time since he’d been there. This was the first thing that he was involved on aside from minor assault or an attempted carjacking. He had to admit he was pretty excited. He walked over to the man Detective Main was talking with.
He knew nearly everybody at the station he was placed, but only really liked a couple of them. Detective Main, Sergeant Rankin, and the Commissioner were those lucky few. He never really knew Detective Stern, but he was one of the better men in the group. There were so many dirty cops now a day that it was surprisingly rare to find good men out there. He stopped next to the man who Main was standing with before he arrived.
“Hey,” he said casually.
“Morning, officer,” the man said.
“Raymond,” he said as he extended his hand, “Officer Raymond.”
The man nodded and shook his hand, “Ben Stanley. I’m head of the bomb squad here.”
Raymond smiled and turned to look at the wreckage, “Mind if I look around a bit?”
Ben shook his head, “Have at it. I’ve had no luck though. Nothing is even slightly radioactive according to my readings.”
Raymond walked into the wreckage slowly and stared at every little piece of ash and wood. He kicked around piles of wood and looked for any sign of DNA or explosives. He searched for hours but found nothing. He looked behind him and noticed that all the people were gone and he was alone in the field. He sat down in a pile of wood; it crackled and collapsed beneath him. He let out a sigh and touched his face in confusion. He went to get up and noticed something shining in the ashes. He knelt closer to it and pulled the badge out from the rubble. Raymond stood with the badge in his hands. This was news to him. There was only one casualty, one suspect, one victim. And that man was a cop.
Raymond put the badge in his pocket and jogged back to his car. He slammed the door shut and drove off back into the city to the station. A lot of people had some explaining to do.

Detective Main arrived at the police station about ten minutes later. He walked in to see the Commissioner and Sergeant Rankin looking at a file on a desk in the Commissioner’s office. He walked over to them and asked if they had any luck. The Commissioner just shook his head.

“We don’t have any background of bombings at all. Whoever did this isn’t in our files,” he shrugged, “Not yet anyways.”

Rankin looked up to Detective Main, “What about you?”

Main shook his head, “It definitely wasn’t an accident. But I already knew that,” he sat in a chair near the desk, “There was no radioactivity, no body, no sign of explosives, nothing,” he shook his head, “We may not know this guy but he knows what he’s doing.”

Rankin nodded and looked to the Commissioner, “So what do you wanna do? I mean we can’t let this happen again. We already lost a detective.”

“Oh yeah,” Main chimed in from his chair, “The bomb squad member who was at the sight with me – he said he thinks this was kind of a ‘practice run’,” he nodded his head, “Says this guys going to do it again, but bigger.”

The Commissioner rose to his feet and straightened his suit, “I hate sayin’ it, but it makes sense. This guy leveled a twenty-five hundred square foot shed and left nothing but some ashes.”

“And he took out one of your men in the process.”

The three men turned to the voice that sounded from the doorway. It was Officer Raymond standing in the office doorway with a dirty badge in his hand. He held it up for them all to see, “All that’s left of him.”

Main looked at Rankin who walked around to close the door behind Raymond, “What is that?”

Raymond shrugged and walked toward the desk, “Oh, it’s not mine. I’m not sure I’m even a cop anymore with all that’s been kept from me,” he slammed the badge onto the desk in disbelief, “Don’t tell me you didn’t know it was a cop.”

The Commissioner nodded and tried to calm Raymond, “It was best that no one knew a cop got blown to Hell last night,” he picked up the badge carefully, “Especially in an abandoned shack in the middle of nowhere.”

He looked at the badge and shook it in his hand while he looked at Raymond. Raymond shook his head and verified what the Commissioner feared, “No prints on there but his and mine.”

Rankin let out a sort of grunt and snatched the badge from the Commissioner, “That does us no good!”

Main nodded and looked to the clock on the wall, “We need to keep our eyes open,” he stood up out of his chair, “Make sure we know if and when this guy’s going to strike again,” he walked to the door and opened it, “I’m headin’ out. I’ll be back in about an hour,” he exited the room and left the station.
Raymond stayed with the other two men in the office. He walked over and re-closed the door. He turned to face the men again, “So who all knows about this?”
Rankin shrugged and put up his hands. The Commissioner just sighed and began to explain the situation, “We can’t have rumors of bombings floating around the city. Detective Stern didn’t have any friends aside from Detective Main, and his family is basically nonexistent. Had it been another cop, maybe the word would’ve gotten out, but since we were able to keep the situation on a low scale – we took advantage.”
Raymond shook his head, “So no one knows about this? No one?”
The Commissioner shook his head, “We were going to recover the body and be surprised after DNA analysis. But when there was no body -.”
Raymond walked over to the desk and picked up the badge, “There!” he shouted, “You found that!” he slammed it down onto the desk and backed away to gather himself, “There’s your evidence,” he said a little calmer. He stared at the Commissioner angrily while Sergeant Rankin just watched from the corner. He walked back into the center of the room, “Time to start telling people before I do.”
With that Officer Raymond left the room – slamming the door behind him. The Commissioner just stared at the door.
“Put that in an evidence bag,” he pointed to the badge, “We’ll call everyone together and tell them what happened after analysis this afternoon,” he leaned back in his chair and rubbed his head.
“Yes, sir,” Rankin grabbed the badge and exited the room quietly.

Detective Main pulled up to his house a couple of minutes after leaving the station. He stepped out of his car and walked up the gravel driveway. He lived in a small two story home with his wife and two daughters. One was five and the other seven. They were his whole life.

He stepped through the front door and was bombarded with hugs from his two young daughters. They shouted excitedly, “Daddy! Daddy!” as he hugged them back. He picked them up in a large swoop and began walking down the hallway.

“Where’s mommy?” he asked

The girls jumped out of his arms and ran toward the kitchen where their mother was making them food. Main followed behind while the girls ran to sit at the kitchen table.

“You’re home early,” his wife said, “You finally get fired?” she smiled jokingly and kissed his cheek.

“Not yet,” Main laughed lightly and smiled, “I do need to talk to you though.”

His wife’s face became more serious, “Oh, okay,” she looked to the stove, “I’m just getting lunch for the girls and we can talk in the living room.”

Main nodded and walked to the adjoining room. Thoughts raced through his mind – How do you tell someone this? That a cop was killed last night? By a bombing? His wife entered the room as one last, important thought popped into his head. And that it was almost definitely going to happen again?

His wife sat on the couch and Main went to join her. He began to speak, “Stern was killed last night.”

His wife became uneasy, “Oh my god.”

Main continued, “He was called out to investigate an abandoned shed in literally the middle of nowhere,” he paused trying to think of a better way to say this, but none came to mind, “and the shed exploded,” he put his hand on his wife’s knee before she could say anything, “No one else was hurt, but there was no trace of anything this morning. No gas lines, no explosive residue, no body. It was a planned, professional bombing and I need you to know that it is going to happen again. The bomb squad member at the scene said the shed was probably a test run.”

His wife just stared at him, “What do you – ?”

“I just want you to be careful where you go in the city,” Main rose to his feet and stood in the room for awhile, “I didn’t tell you any of this,” he walked out of the room and sat at the table with his daughters, wearing a smile on his face.

A few days past and Officer Raymond sat at his desk. He was researching different bombings in cities. He had found none that resulted in absolutely zero evidence. There was always some sort of residue or at least a body to go off of. He couldn’t find anything that resulted in the complete destruction of an entire structure (nothing that wasn’t atomically powered). He was completely in the dark – nothing like this had ever been done before.

Raymond put his head in his hands in an exhausted rage. He ran his hands up his face and through his hair as he let out a long breath. The Commissioner office door opened he walked out into the center of the station.

“Gather around everyone,” he wore a face of surprise and sympathy. Raymond knew it was a fake. The Commissioner continued, “As you all know there was an explosion a few nights ago,” murmurs began to cross the crowd. The Commissioner raised his voice a little to remain heard, “Detective Stern was killed in the explosion.”

More voices rose in the crowd in worried and frightened tones. Raymond made eye contact with Main who shook his head. He could tell that he was just as disappointed as he was with the Commissioner. Raymond broke the contact and rolled his eyes before continuing to listen.
The Commissioner raised his hands and shouted over the rest of the voices, “We found his badge in the wreckage. There was no body. He may still be out there somewhere, but as of right now he is declared dead,” with that he returned to his office and let the officers discuss their shock.

Raymond was not surprised. He got the Commissioner to address the issue, but still the whole truth wasn’t out there. He looked back to see if Detective Main was still there but he had already gone. He knew what was happening. Main got all the information – information that no one else got. Raymond realized that if he was going to get all the information he needed; he would have to get it himself. He would have to get a little dirty.

The bank was fairly crowded for a Tuesday afternoon. The glass windows and doors let the sun shine into the dimly lit building. There were only about fifty or so people in the bank, but that was a lot for this day and time. A big man with broad shoulders and a bald head entered the building. He wore a suit and carried a brief case in his left hand. He walked up to the teller and set the case down on the ground next to his leg.

He looked at the teller for a while and then asked if he remembered him, “I was in here a few days ago?”

The teller looked at the man and nodded his head. The big man continued to speak, “I was asking about opening an account here. I need to cancel that account.”

The teller nodded and typed in his computer. He spoke to the man about reconsidering and the man nodded and took notes in a small book. The teller finished cancelling the account and asked, “Why, may I ask, did you want this account cancelled?”

The man looked around and just shrugged, “I don’t think this bank will be around long enough for me,” he smiled and turned to leave.
He reached the door and pushed it halfway open when a voice shouted behind him, “Sir!”
He stopped and turned halfway around.
“You forgot your brief case,” the teller called to him.
The man smiled and closed let the door close in front of him. He walked back to the desk and smiled at the teller, “So I did. Thank you, my good man,” he picked up the case and exited the bank – he brief case in his hands.
Outside of the bank he looked to either side and began walking away. As he walked he noticed a man pull a ski mask over his face and walk into the bank. He turned away and began to whistle. “All around the mulberry bush the monkey chased the weasel....”

The robber had been ready to enter the bank until he saw the big guy through the window. He didn’t want him to cause any problems. Of all the people in the building he was probably the only one who really could be capable of stopping him. When the man finally left he took advantage of the opportunity.

He pulled on his mask and burst through the doors of the bank. He shot his automatic handgun into the air and began to shout, “Everybody on the ground! Everyone get down!”

The people in the bank screamed and dropped to the floor. The robber continued to shout as he walked to the center of the building, “Now nobody moves – nobody gets-.”

The explosion cut off his threats. The violent heat burned his skin and melted his body. The windows shattered as the boom shook the entire block. Flames swallowed the entire room and nobody stood a chance. People on the streets ran as the rubble crashed down around them. A few police cars showed up quickly to the site. People pulled out cell phones to take pictures and videos of what they just witnessed.

Nothing remained where the bank had stood just moments ago. Just a few burning fragments and some scattered pieces of scorched bones. There was not enough to make one body let alone nearly fifty. But it was evidence – charred, human evidence.

Officer Raymond burst through the door to the Commissioner’s office. Detective Main was right behind him, “What the hell!” Raymond shouted. He threw his finger at the Commissioner, “Fifty-four people dead! Is that enough for you!”

The Commissioner just stared at Raymond. Main stood in the corner. He spoke smoothly, “An entire bank, completely obliterated, everyone dead. We have street cameras we can possibly tap into, but cameras on the inside,” he shook his head, “there’s no chance.”

Raymond and the Commissioner still stared intensely at each other. The Commissioner spoke without breaking the eye contact, “Get Sergeant Rankin for me, Detective. We will tap the cameras and send a bomb squad in to survey the sight.”
Main picked up the phone at the table next to him in the office, “Yes I need Sergeant Rankin down to the station right away please. There was a second bombing in the city. We may have a lead.”
He hung up the phone and could feel the rising of the tension in the room. He felt if he breathed wrong he would be shot. Raymond began to speak now, still not breaking the stare, “There were some bones found in the site. If we run some DNA tests we might be able to find something. Maybe it was a suicide bomber.”
“That bomb leveled an entire building; if someone was wearing that thing it blew their whole body straight to hell.”
The three turned to the voice at the doorway. It was Sergeant Rankin; he had begun looking through some files. The Commissioner stood now, considering he and Raymond had both broken the stare down, and walked to meet Rankin, “You got here quick.”
“I ran a few red lights,” he walked to a chair that sat in the corner by Detective Main, “Is that supposed to be your lead?”
Raymond sighed. Main walked to the middle of the room so he could look at Rankin as he talked, “We don’t have a lead. I said that to keep everyone calm.”
Rankin nodded as if he understood. He looked to the Commissioner, “So where are the traffic cams?”
“Your game, Sergeant,” the Commissioner motioned to his computer. Rankin stood up and made his way to the computer. He sat at the desk and began to type furiously on the keyboard.
“Give me,” he paused as he typed a few more words, “Maybe an hour or so?”
“You got it,” the Commissioner exited the office. Raymond and Main stayed with Rankin while he searched.
“Okay, I’ve got ‘em,” Rankin spoke as he searched, “What time are we looking at?”
Main walked over to the computer, “Tuesday – all the comings and goings from the bank – the whole day.”
Rankin nodded as he typed into the computer, “Alright,” he leaned back in the desk chair, “Let’s watch.”

A few days had past. The three men still watched the screen intently. They printed pictures of all the people that came and went from the bank. The whole day on the traffic cam took them nearly three to watch and re-watch. The first time they just watched the video. The next time they took a picture of every person who came and went from the bank.

While Sergeant Rankin and Officer Raymond watched the tapes a third time, Detective Main studied the photographs they printed and what was in the hands of each person before and after leaving. He studied what was on their person before and after.
“You know it would be a lot easier if I could get some eyes inside,” Main said as he flipped through the photos yet another time.
Raymond raised his eyebrows and jerked his head, “Well everyone is dead. And the cameras are nonexistent.”
Rankin let out a small laugh, “So no luck than?”
Main shook his head, “Did you?”
Rankin typed into the computer, “Well there is this one guy who goes in with a brief case, but he does leave with it.”
Main rubbed his chin, “Yeah, I saw that, too.”
Raymond looked up, “So we’ve got nothing? We literally have to wait for another bombing to catch our guy?”
Rankin put his head in his hands. He stood up and walked to the wall. He punched it hard with his hands, “I don’t know!” he screamed in rage, “I can’t deal with this!”
Main walked over slowly and gently put his hand on Rankin’s back, “Its fine. We’ll figure this out. No one else has to die.”
A loud boom came from outside and Raymond and Main ran to the window, Rankin stayed where he was. They saw a car outside on the curb – on fire.

The Commissioner had seen that the three men still occupied his office. He didn’t want to get in halfway on the crazy work they had going in there. He turned and walked back out onto the streets. When he stepped out of the station he noticed a man with broad shoulders and a bald head walking toward him, “Good afternoon,” the Commissioner said as he pulled out his keys.
“Afternoon, Commissioner,” the man stopped to talk, “How’s the bomb search going?”
“Excuse me?” the Commissioner became uneasy.
“I watch the news,” the man leaned against the car, “So how’s it going?”
The Commissioner smiled and unlocked his car, “That’s confidential, son.”
“Understandable,” the man pushed himself off of the car as the Commissioner opened his door, “Goodbye, Commissioner.”
The Commissioner got into his car. He heard the man begin to whistle as he walked away. He held the door open a little to listen awhile, he was familiar with the tune. “All around the mulberry bush the monkey chased the weasel…”
The Commissioner closed his door and put the key in the ignition. He turned the key and the car exploded. The steering wheel flew up into the Commissioner’s face – crushing his skull – and flames ate his body. The glass of the car windows shattered and flew into the Commissioners body, but he was dead before the glass punctured his heart. The concussive blast shattered the windows of the station as well. People rushed in from the streets and out from the station. The only thing left was the small badge on his keychain and the burning car.
Raymond and Main looked down from the window in the Commissioner’s office. Rankin tapped on the computer and the two turned to face him. He spoke shakily, “Well now I can find him easier.”
Main walked over to Rankin and looked over his shoulder at the screen. Raymond followed behind closely. The screen showed a picture of the Commissioner’s car. The clock at the bottom left hand corner was twenty minutes earlier.
Sergeant Rankin played the traffic camera video. No one stopped at the car. They finally saw a man stop when the Commissioner came into view. The man leaned against the car and then left. The explosion happened just moments after he was out of view.
“So he could’ve planted the bomb when he leaned against the car,” Detective Main said in a questionable voice from over the Sergeant’s right shoulder.
“No,” Rankin shook his head, “there isn’t any type of bomb small enough to be concealed on his person, and make a blast that big. Anyone could’ve put it there at anytime.”
“Well, apparently it wasn’t put there today,” Raymond said from Rankin’s other shoulder.
“Rewind it,” Main asked. Sergeant Rankin rewound the tape to the point where the man leaned against the Commissioner’s car. That’s when Main yelled, “Stop!”
They leaned in close. There was a fairly good picture of the back of the Commissioner’s head and the man’s face, “Okay?” Raymond said.
“See this guy? I’ve seen this man before,” Main responded, “Somewhere recently.”
He walked over to grab some files off of the side table in the office. He flipped through them and landed on another traffic camera photo. He threw it on the keyboard in front of the other two men, “That guy was at the bank. He was at the bank right before it exploded. Last week – that’s not strange?”
Rankin zoomed in on the man’s face. It was pretty blurry, but he was definitely the same man. He printed these pictures and rose from the desk chair, “Alright, we need to find out who this guy is,” he grabbed the picture off of the printer and put it on the desk; “Once we do we can follow him and wait for him to slip up. Once he does, we can take him down.”
Main nodded and left the office. Raymond grabbed a picture of the man and followed closely behind.

Weeks passed. There was still no name for the man they saw on the cameras. That was the bad part – the good thing was that there no more bombings in the area since the Commissioner was murdered.

Detective Main sat in the Commissioner’s office with Sergeant Rankin. Both were searching furiously for their man. Main was at the corner table in the room looking through paper files. Rankin was sitting at the computer typing. No words were spoken between the two – only pictures shown of possible look-a-likes and their names. Sergeant Rankin scrolled all the through the files for what seemed like the thousandth time when he finally cracked.
He slammed his hands on the desk, “This is ridiculous!” he screamed, “Why do we bother? Maybe the Commissioner was his target all along and now he’s gone.”
Main looked up from his paper files, “So you want to give up? Let him get away with the murder of fifty-six people – one of which was the police commissioner – not to mention the destruction of a federal bank?”
Rankin rubbed his eyes, “I don’t know. I mean it’s definitely not the right thing to do, but –.”
The door to the office slammed open cutting him off. The two men jumped and spun to face the opening. Officer Raymond limped quickly through the room with a messy face and blood on his uniform. He went straight to the computer where Sergeant Rankin sat. Rankin rolled out of the way in the chair, for Raymond didn’t look like he was going to stop in his pursuit. He began typing into the computer while the two men just stared at him.
Detective Main was the first to finally speak, “Oh my God,” he started to walk toward him, “what the hell happened to you?”
Raymond opened his mouth. Blood started to run out as he mumbled half a word. He turned to the window and spit the stuff out onto the streets, “I got him,” he said in a strange wet, gurgling voice, “I got a tracker on him.”
More blood came out and he spit out the window again. Sergeant Rankin stood up behind him and touched him lightly, “C’mon bud. We’re gonna go to the hospital.”
Rankin began to gently pull Raymond away from the screen. He still typed on the keyboard, but didn’t resist Rankin at all. When they passed Main on the way out, he pointed to the computer and said, “I got him.”
Main walked over to the screen and saw a map of the city with a small blinking red light on it. They had a tracker on him. Raymond got a tracker on their guy. He wrote the address on a piece of paper and left the office.

Rankin pulled up at the hospital with Raymond in the backseat. He helped him out of the car and took him inside, “Help! I have an officer who needs medical attention,” he held his badge up in the air and a few nurses came by with a wheelchair. They took Raymond away into the back rooms. Rankin walked up to the front desk where a women sat, “Let me know when I can go talk to him. It’s very important.”

The lady nodded, “I’ll have the doctors let you know as soon as he is ready and stable.”

Rankin nodded back, “Thank you,” he walked away and sat in the waiting room. Some thirty minutes passed before the nurse called him.

“Sergeant Rankin?”

He stood and walked toward her, “Right this way.”

The nurse led him to through the maze of hallways. They arrived at a room and she stopped him before he opened the door, “He is still in some pain, so try to avoid any physical contact to the head or left side of his body.”

Rankin nodded. The nurse opened the door for him and he entered; she closed the door behind him. The first thing Rankin did was walk over to Raymond and smack him on the back of the head. Raymond moaned in pain.

“What the hell were you doing?” Rankin insisted as he sat in a chair next to the bed where Raymond lay.

Raymond made a face of pain, but let out a small laugh, “I got him. I got a tracker on our guy.”

Rankin leaned in closer. He stared intensely at Raymond, “What happened?”

Officer Raymond walked into the streets of the city. He needed to get out of that office. He turned down the sidewalk and pressed the button on Detective Main’s car keys. He had taken them before leaving the office. Main wouldn’t miss them; those guys were going to be in that office all day. They weren’t going to need any cars.

Raymond finally found the car. He unlocked the doors and stepped into the driver’s seat. Just a little drive around the city, he thought, just to get out. He drove over to the bank that had been blown up. He wanted to see the site from afar. There was tape around the perimeter of the blackened earth. People were crowded around watching the bomb squad investigate the area. He was just about to leave when he saw a man – a man with broad shoulders and a bald head. The man started walking toward a car. Officer Raymond couldn’t believe it, this was him. This was their guy. The car started to pull away. Raymond quickly put his vehicle into drive and followed the bald man’s car. He kept a good distance from him, because an obvious tail is a pointless one. Raymond could only thank God he had the unmarked car.

The man was definitely making sure he wasn’t being followed, too, making it even harder for Raymond to stay undiscovered. The car took the same roads two maybe three times. Raymond had to be very careful; he took roads that ran similar to the ones the man was taking, but since he didn’t know where he was going he had to make last minute maneuvers so he didn’t lose him.
The man finally pulled out of the city and drove into a lumber yard. Raymond parked his car far enough away so it wouldn’t be noticed, and jogged after the car. The man had driven into an opening at the center of the yard. Raymond hid behind a large machine and some stacks of wood, so he wouldn’t be noticed. He saw three pickup trucks parked in the opening with strange materials in their beds. Raymond watched as seven men stepped out into the clearing from the trucks. The bald man stepped out of his car and walked up to meet them. Two or three of them had full automatic weapons, one had a shotgun, and two held pistols. The man who walked straight up to the bald man appeared to be unarmed. These men were probably some sort of supplier for him.
Raymond couldn’t hear the conversation, but he saw a lot of motioning to the men and trucks by the supplier. He started to yell and Raymond could hear his voice a little. He put his finger on the bald man’s chest and the bald man grabbed the supplier by the neck. Raymond took a step closer, and that was his first mistake. The supplier’s eyes shot toward him. He pulled a pistol out from his side and began to shoot at him. The bald man let go of him while he shot and Raymond ducked behind the machine.

The bomber pulled up into the lumber yard. He saw trucks he was told to go to and pulled up to them. The Mexican bomb suppliers walked out from the trucks. He stepped out of his car, too, and walked up to the leader of the men.

“Welcome, my good man,” the Mexican supplier greeted as he walked up, “Where are your drivers?”

The bald man nodded and looked at the trucks, “I was hoping maybe your men could help me transport.”

The supplier chuckled a little, “We might have to charge you a bit more,” he nudged the bald man.

The bomber smiled and pulled a twenty dollar bill out of his pocket. He threw it on the ground in front of the supplier, “There.”

The supplier’s laugh subsided but a small smile still remained, “What is this?”

“Your pay,” the bomber responded.

The supplier stepped closer to him, “What do you think this is, huh?” he motioned to the trucks behind him, “I brought you these things all the way from Mexico. I went through hell trying to stay out of prison transporting this stuff!” he put his finger in the bomber’s chest, “You owe me twenty-thousand dollars.”

The men behind the supplier loaded their weapons, “Let’s see you weasel your way out of this,” the supplier grabbed a pistol off his side, and noticed the man behind the machine. He cursed and began to shoot at the machine. The bomber turned away from the shooting.

The other men began shooting, too. He had been followed. The bomber looked around to see if he could get to the man. He ran to the left.


Officer Raymond did not have enough bullets for all these men. He began shooting back and hit one of the men with the automatic weapons. The other men turned and ran to the trucks, but Raymond still shot after them. The bald man was nowhere to be seen.

Raymond spun back behind the machine. He put his back against the metal and switched the magazine in his pistol. He looked up just as the fist crushed his nose. His head smacked against the machine hard and he fell to his knees, dropping his pistol. The bald man stood over him. Raymond reached for his gun, but the man kicked him in his ribs. Raymond’s back slammed against the machine now and he let out a scream of pain. The man kept kicking Raymond’s midsection.

The man finally stopped kicking Raymond. He reached down and grabbed Raymond’s pistol. He checked to see if it was loaded and put it at his side. The man grabbed the extra magazines off of Raymond’s sides. He turned and walked away quickly. Raymond got to his knees slowly and began crawling after him painfully. That’s when the bomb went off behind them, wending Raymond flying forward. He heard a car engine start as he sprawled around on the ground. He got to his feet and limped to his car. He started the engine and floored the gas. He searched the streets for the bomber’s car. He spotted it a couple yards ahead and reached into the glove compartment of his car. There was no gun, but there was a tracker. He closed the glove box and prepared the tracker as he pulled up next to the bomber.

The man noticed Raymond as he prepared to roll down the window and throw the tracker under the car. He pulled out the pistol and began to shoot him. The bullets shattered the windows of both cars as Raymond ducked behind the metal part of the door. Raymond could hear the bullets hitting the driver side doors, destroying the car. The man changed magazines and loaded the gun; he aimed at Raymond’s tires.

Raymond began to panic. He needed to get out of there, but he needed to place the tracker. He heard the gun go off and maneuvered the car to dodge what may have blown out his tires. He was running out of time, but had one last idea. He took a deep breath and sped back up. Raymond pulled back up next to the bomber and opened his door. The bomber moved in closer tearing it off of the car completely. As he pulled away Raymond leaned out if the car. He had trouble keeping his foot on the gas as he stretched for the other car. He made one last attempt and threw the tracker under the car’s passenger side as he lost control of his vehicle. He rolled out of the car hitting the gravel road hard. His car drove away for a couple of yards before the speed slowed and it came to a stop. The bald man sped away in his car and Raymond couldn’t help but smile. He had gotten a tracker on him, if only for awhile they could find him. He got up and limped quickly back to the car. He spit onto the street and sped back to the station. Blood soaked his uniform and dripped from all over his body.

Detective Main walked out of the station to see his car. It was parked right in front of the station with bullet holes covering the driver’s side. Well, what was there of the driver’s side – the front door was completely ripped off. There were no more windows in the car except for the front and back windshields and the shattered glass by the pedals. His keys sat on the driver’s seat.

Main grabbed the keys and started the car, “I don’t even want to know,” he looked at the piece of paper with the address from the office. If Raymond had truly gotten a track on their guy, this is where he was. He grabbed his phone and dialed Sergeant Rankin.

“Hello?” Rankin spoke on the other line.

“Hey, how’s Raymond?” Main asked in a quick voice.

“He’s fine,” Rankin responded.

“Good. He got a tracker on our guy. I have an address but he could’ve moved by now. Can you get back to the office? The tracker is on the screen,” Main pulled up to the building with the address he had on the paper.

“Yeah, I’ll call you when I get there,” Rankin hung up the phone. He looked over to Raymond lying in the bed, “I gotta leave,” he grabbed his keys off of the table, “You did good, bud,” he left the hospital and drove to the station.

Main got out of his car and strutted into the lobby of the building. It was an office building with a lot of people in it. His phone rang at his side, “Yeah?”

“Ok, the tracker says it’s at five-fifty Bedford,” Rankin’s voice franticly came from the other line.

Main looked at the paper he still had in his hands, “I’m here.”

Rankin spoke into the phone, “Do you see him?”

Main looked around, “No,” he started to panic a little. There was no one who even looked a little bit like there guy, “He’s not here.”

“He’s there,” Rankin spoke into the phone at almost a shout now, “Keep your eyes open.”

Main spun around looking at all the faces he saw. He walked forward, “It looks like there are a couple stories. I guess I can look around more.”

“Find him, Main. I’ll call you if something changes,” Rankin hung up the phone.

Main walked up to the desk and spoke to the man who sat behind it, “I need to know if you saw a man here. He’s a big man with broad shoulders, bald head?”

The man behind the desk smiled, “I’m sorry, sir, but a lot of people come here every day.”

Main pulled out his badge and put it on the desk, “It’s important.”

The man nodded his head as he inspected the badge, “I understand, sir, but I really don’t recall seeing this man.”

Main nodded his head and put his badge back in his pocket. His phone started to ring as he turned to leave, “Hello?”

“Hey – he moved,” Rankin’s voice came from the other end of the line. He gave him the new address, “Be careful, Main.”

Main hung up the phone and ran out to his car. He drove to the new location Rankin had given him. This place looked abandoned and a lot sketchier than the last one; he pulled out his gun and stepped out of his car. He didn’t see another car, but this had to be the place. The building was dark with only sunlight providing fair visibility. This was not the first time
Main followed a target into a mysterious location; it was his job. But this was the first time he felt sincerely frightened. The thought that this entire building could be leveled at anytime haunted him. He had been through a lot, but he was not prepared to die.

He turned another corner with his gun raised. He replaced his weapon at his side and felt his heart continue to pound against his chest. He pulled out his phone and called Rankin, “I don’t think he’s here.”

Rankin responded doubtfully, “He has to be.”

“I didn’t even see a vehicle,” Main retorted.

“Alright, you better get out of there then. We can’t afford to lose anyone,” Rankin hung up the phone and Main turned to leave.

He opened the door and began walking to his car. It exploded when he was a few yards away. Main dropped to the ground, but quickly regained his footing. He grabbed his gun and turned back toward the building. He saw a big man walking away. Main took off at a sprint after him. The man turned and saw Main gaining on him and began to run away from him. Main knew right away that he wasn’t going to catch him. He slowed his pace and started to catch his breath. He looked up and saw the man getting further and further away. He was about to call Rankin when he saw something out of the corner of his eye – a car.

Detective Main ran to the vehicle. He saw the keys sitting in the passenger seat and started the car. He floored the gas and began to gain rapidly on the man running away. He considered slowing his speed, but decided against it. This man was a murderer and (technically) resisting arrest; Main did what he felt necessary. He slowed a little, keeping his speed at about forty miles an hour. He only slowed when the body shattered his windshield and rolled off the hood of the car. Main stepped out of the car and drew his pistol.

“Stay down!” he put his foot down hard on the man’s back so he would stay on the ground. He pulled out a pair of handcuffs and locked them around his wrists, “You’re under arrest.”

Sergeant Rankin watched the screen in the office. The tracker was getting closer and closer to the station and Main wasn’t answering his phone. He had to expect the worst. Rankin walked over and grabbed the shotgun off the back wall; he loaded the shells into the barrel and went back to the desk chair where he could see the computer screen. He pumped the shotgun and hoped he wouldn’t have to use it. He pointed it at the office door and watched the computer screen. What kind of person takes out two cops and then goes to the station?

The screen showed the vehicle stopped at the station. Rankin took a deep breath as he waited for the office door to open. His heads started to become sweaty on the wooden handles of the gun. The door flung open and Rankin stood with the gun pointed at Detective Main’s head. A tall man with broad shoulders and a bald head was pulled in behind him.

“That won’t be necessary,” Main said a little jokingly, “I got him.”

Rankin put the gun down on the desk and followed as Main lead the man to the interrogation room. He waited outside while main took off the handcuffs and chained him to the table, “Wait here,” he told him. He left the room and locked the door staring at Rankin, “There’s our guy.”

Rankin nodded and went to go sit at the desk again. Main stood in front of it and continued to talk to the sergeant, “So,” he looked around the room, “what do we ask?”

Rankin shrugged his shoulders and let out a little laugh, “I’m not sure. I’m not much of an interrogator.”

Main raised his eyebrows, “Me neither. Plus Raymond is the one who’s been followin’ this guy.”

Rankin shot a look at Main who had the same thought, “When can we get him out of the hospital?”

Rankin nodded, “When I say so.”

Main smiled and picked up the phone. He dialed the hospital and asked for the man in charge of Raymond’s medical case. They spoke briefly and Main nodded, thanked the man, and hung up the phone. He looked at Rankin who was sitting at the desk, listening intently, “He’ll be here in about an hour,” Main said.

Rankin punched the desk happily, “Yes!”

Main nodded, “Now we wait.”

Raymond stepped out of the hospital car in his new clean outfit. He limped into the office with a small smile crossing his face. Main shook his hand and Rankin handed him a file for him to take into the room. Raymond grabbed the papers, but Rankin didn’t let go.

“You did good kid. Now finish it up,” Rankin let Raymond take the file and nodded toward the interrogation room.

Raymond exhaled deeply and walked to the door. His heart raced – he did not want to see this guy again. The last meeting ended with him in the hospital, and this guy walked away without a scratch. He pulled open the door and saw the man sitting with his hands chained to a table; he smiled when he saw Raymond, who returned the look by raising his eyebrows.

“So you remember me?” Raymond asked as he sat across from the man.

The man casually nodded – his face never changed, “I thought you would be in,” the man paused and jerked his head, “a little pain after our last meeting.”

Raymond stared at the man, “Well I wasn’t about to pass up on seeing you again.”

The man chuckled lightly, “We’ll see if you still feel that way when we’re done.”

Raymond leaned back in his chair, “Why’d you blow up the bank?”

“I didn’t like their policies,” the man responded.

Raymond was a little shocked at this answer. He hadn’t shown anything to prove he knew this guy had blown up anything. Maybe he figured they didn’t have any evidence to back this up, but he did just admit his guilt.

“What about the Commissioner?” Raymond continued as he leaned in close.

“What about him?” the man responded. Now he was getting a little trickier. Raymond pulled out the traffic camera picture of the Commissioner and the man standing by the car.

“That’s you,” he pointed to the man in the picture, “Right before the car exploded.”

The man looked at the picture. Raymond studied his face as he examined the picture, but it never changed. The man leaned back in his chair, “That’s unfortunate.”

Raymond stared at the man, who returned the stare with a look of intensity. The man was very hard to read; he was obviously very smart. But there was no way he knew they had next to no evidence in the bank explosion.

“How did you find me?” the man spoke without looking away.

Raymond kind of jumped at the voice. He didn’t expect him to say anything. He leaned away from the man and walked back from the table, but never broke the stare, “That’s irrelevant.”

The man shook his head, “I’m here aren’t I?”

Raymond stared at the man. He began to wonder who was interrogating who now.

“That makes it relevant,” the man continued.

Raymond nodded his head, but was beginning to become irritated, “Where is your next bomb?”

The man never changed his face, “Were you tracking me?”

“Where’s your bomb?” Raymond repeated.

“You must have gotten it on my car during our little meeting,” the man kept going.

“Where is your bomb?” Raymond started to raise his voice in irritation.

“So you must know where I’ve been recently.”

Raymond smacked the table hard, “Where’s the damn bomb!”

The man leaned in close and smiled, “Your friend already knows.”

Raymond looked to the glass mirror and ran to the door. When he opened the door to the room Detective Main was already getting ready to leave. Raymond looked at Rankin, “Keep an eye on him,” he shouted to Main, “Where are you going?”

Main shouted back before he left, “Five-fifty Bedford. That’s where the bomb is,” he ran out of the station and drove to the office building he was earlier. When he arrived he ran inside with his badge raised high over his head, “Everybody needs to leave now!” he shouted with urgency, “A bomb is going to go off!”

People began to run out to the doors in huge swarms. Main tried to fight the crowd to get to the upper levels. He ran up the stairs, screaming with his badge over his head to evacuate the building.

Raymond walked back into the interrogation room with a fury behind him. He looked at the man sitting in the room making sure he didn’t do anything. He felt good about what had just happened, but couldn’t help wondering. Why did he give in?
As if reading his mind the man spoke, “Well,” Raymond jumped at the voice again, “that’s where one of the bombs are.”
Raymond shot a look at him and then ran to the door. The man began to whistle where he sat.
Raymond shouted into the office, “There’s another bomb!”
Rankin looked up from his desk chair. A faint blast sounded from off in the distance, and the two could see a cloud of smoke rising into the air in the distance. They almost didn’t even care, “Where’s the other one?”
That’s when the bomb went off in the station.