BLACK BOX

Cha-am District, Phetchaburi, Thailand,

2019

The beach is less crowded today. A few tourists laze around while little children play; building fragile sand castles, running around, flying kites, and poking a little fun of the fastest feet at the ocean. A few local children form a different quad, kicking a worn-out football, and white sand in the air. The cool wind of the afternoon sporadically blows off the scorching burn of the sun on backs merely protected by the thin fabric of tattered clothes. A local diver emerged with a black polyurethane-coated box; no one paid him any attention. He examines the object in his hands with fascination. A few heads turn in his direction as he strode off the island with his apparatus and the mystery object. He clasps his discovery under his arm, hoping his luck has found him a valuable that will put an end to his penury. He took slow, optimistic steps back into his jalopy and headed for the city.

Huai Khwang, Bangkok.

The 3-hour drive to Bangkok was rough but it’s nothing unusual for the scrawny diver. He drove ahead in the darkness and pulled over in the parking lot. He got down, grabbed his trophy, and stepped into the sleazy bar. He scanned the bar before fixating his eyes on the dark corner behind the beaded partition. He approached slowly, hoping things doesn’t go south. He will try to bargain a good deal for the mysterious piece without giving hints of his ignorance; try not to look intimidated, get his money, and get the hell out of this hell hole. The rotund guard blocks his way as he tried to reach the curtain. He looks up with innocent eyes, explaining he just wants to see the big boss. He gets ushered in with the guard breathing down his neck.

Big Boss takes a look at the object with disinterest and stares at the feeble man standing before him, he drops it on the table with a bang. He told him a sealed box is no use to him, that it looks like a part that fell off a machine. The diver tries to convince him it would come in handy. He only considered selling it to him because Big Boss has a knack for seeing potential in objects on the black market and that gift has earned him a great reputation and wealth. Big boss dismissed his flattery and told one of his boys at the table to offer the diver 100 THB. When he protests, Big Boss tells him in a surprisingly cool tone that he offers a flat rate for unidentifiable objects. The diver decides not to push his luck with a kingpin famous for his blood-thirsty rage. He took the money and was soon on his way out.

In the car, he almost punched himself for being so optimistic about his ‘treasure’. He wished he had asked for his price in dollars, after all, he saw an unfamiliar logo on the box with an inscription of the ‘US. Maybe he should have hidden it till he came across a tourist that would be thrilled to buy an artifact. He sighed, turned on his ignition, and drove off into the night, cursing his luck; once again.                                                                                                                                                               …pause

Newark, New Jersey, 2021

Dr. Jimmy Watson watched with folded arms as the scientists examine the box they worked tirelessly to open. This is the fourth time he’s coming down here, still no changes and he’s getting impatient. He needs to know if he traveled across the world for something worthwhile. When he got the call, he was sold by the idea of the US insignia found on the box, he wanted to know more, especially what a mystery object of the US government was doing in Thailand. He bought it off immediately, with the conviction that it would come in handy. They need to find something salvageable from this. His mind wanders off to ROXY sitting idly in the lab, waiting to be completed. Ever since he birthed ROXY, his brainchild, he has increased his yearnings for collectibles around the world; anything to feed her. He wants to stamp Revolt; his Think Tank, on the sands of time as the inventor of the greatest machine ever built by mankind.

When a team of 5 got assembled by a top gun in the CIA, it was meant to be a covert Op within the agency, almost like a cult, and it must remain so. Black Op rose to the occasion immediately Paul noticed a red alert on the ‘Black Box’. They had planted the spy robot in the Pacific Ocean; illegally, to get data from Asian territories without the authorization of the agency. Its geospatial technology enables them to gather information for analysis and visualization using advanced features to enhance range and simulation. He is in charge of monitoring the box since its dislocation during Japan’s Typhoon Hagibis. He picked up his desk phone and sent the code word to the Black leader. He starts to punch his keyboard furiously, trying to track the location before he loses connection. His boss walks up to his desk and bends to watch his monitor, “No, no, no…” The blinking red light was gone. Silence fell between the two. “I fear the worst has happened,” Paul sighed trying to match the cool of Black leader. “Did we just lose connection?” Black leader asked. “Yes, Mr. Stuart. We lost connection right here, somewhere in Thailand,” Paul replied coolly, pointing at the monitor. “Find the exact location we got disconnected, and start scanning every water body surrounding that area as soon as possible, before it gets in the wrong hands or forever lost.” And he was gone.

Since the incident happened, they have sent agents to Thailand to get intel on the box, but all efforts proved futile. When new intel came about a sale of an object that fits the description of the box, they take no chances but chase after it, with thinned-out optimism. It turned out to be a silver lining. They had found the crime boss who sold the object. They cornered him in a seedy hotel and extracted information about his sale from him. They took him for a few days until he described his buyer to a sketch artist.

Back in Langley, they were going to begin their search with the sketch they have, until a team member, Black Fox called their attention to the resemblance. “Why does that look so much like Dr. Watson?” she said with furrowed brows. “I’m sorry who?” Paul picked up the paper again. “That scientist that keeps opening hotels and frolicking with politicians. Paul, can you run a scan…wait, let’s narrow that down, search for him right now and see what I’m saying,” she gestured at the desktop. Paul pulls out his chair, sits, and starts to tap his fingers on the buttons. Within a second, a picture of the scientist appears on the screen with a striking resemblance to the sketch. “Should we assume…” Paul looks up at their third partner who points at the screen, “that’s our guy. Great eyes, Foxy,” he said with a smirk on his face. “Stop calling me that,” she warned him; simmering. “We must dig up everything we can on this guy. Every bit of detail, dirt, whatever we can. He’s a sly fox, we must be ready to play dirty with him. If he went all the way to Thailand for the transaction, ooh, we don’t know what he knows by now. Paul, get on Watson,” she said and stepped out of their secret room. The black sun laughs when the door shuts. “Mike, you have it coming the next time you call her that,” Paul said looking away from the screen. “She’s feisty,” Black Sun laughed, dismissing Paul’s concern with a wave of the hand. “I thought she was going to kick you in the balls,” Paul nods and gets to work. “She’ll be fine. You got work to do,” Black Sun pats Paul’s shoulder and left the office.

Dr. Watson checked his wristwatch, he has exceeded the time he intends to spend here, and he would run late if he doesn’t leave now. He was supposed to meet the designers today, to give them details of the last-minute adjustment he wants made to the museum he would be opening at his private residence in a few days. He sighed, looked around, and informed his team he would be gone for the day and would be expecting feedback from them. He left the lab. As he stepped out of the hotel, he unbuttons his suit and got in the backseat of his tinted SUV. His secretary must have set up the meeting room by now, worried he’s going to miss the meeting, and ultimately crash the deadline of the opening. Her efficacy is the reason why he’s encouraged not to have a personal assistant. He doesn’t need another set of prying eyes in his business. He instructs his chauffeur to head to his office in downtown Manhattan. As they wheel out of the tree-lined drive, he turned on his phone.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           …pause