Perspectives, An Intriguing Tale of an American Born Terrorist

by Jeffrey Shapiro

  Mary sat silent.

  When they arrived home, Jonathan told Mary to take Carly into their bedroom which was upstairs and far away from the kitchen and to turn the volume up loud on their Bose surround sound system that was integrated into their 42 inch Plasma television. “There’s nothing here that we want her to see or hear.” He pulled one car out of the garage and pulled the rental car in, then he positioned himself behind the car, as if he was opening the lid of a lion’s cage. He popped the trunk with the remote entry on the key chain. The lid flew open and he stood facing a very angry animal. Alex Moore rose to his knees and stared at the barrel of a loaded Glock 7.

  “What in the hell is going on here?” Alex screamed pretending not to recognize him. “I’m a federal agent.” He held up his badge. Alex had removed all the darts from his chest on the ride over and the front of his shirt was peppered with tiny spots of blood.

  “Get your hands behind your head before I blow it off,” yelled Jonathan.

  “Easy now,” said Alex. “There’s no need to

  do anything that you’re going to regret. You need to think and then let me go, before the whole world comes down on your head.”

  “Jesus Christ, knock it off Bob! I’ve been in the database. We know about the fake death and funeral; we know that you had a hand in the explosion. You screwed us once, and you’re not going to screw us again.”

  Alex dropped his head and repeated, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “We’ll see. Now get out of the trunk and keep your hands on the back of your head.”

  Jonathan tied his hands together with nylon cuffs and led him into the kitchen and threw him down onto a wooden kitchen chair so hard he rocked back, nearly tipping over. He then handcuffed his feet.

  Alex spoke in a trained voice. “It’s a capital offense assaulting and kidnapping a federal agent and the longer this goes, the deeper shit you’re in. So let me go now and I’ll promise to do my best to get you a lighter sentence.”

  Jonathan looked at him in disbelief and then leaned back and smashed him in the mouth with all of his might. His head whip-lashed back and blood spurted from his broken lip and Jonathan’s knuckles. “That one was for Matthew!” he said.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he answered.

  Jonathan hit him again, this time on the side of the head with his gun knocking him out of the chair. A huge gash opened and blood ran down his face and pooled on the cleft of his chin before dripping onto his shirt. “That one was for Carly and me. Now, I’m only going to spell it out for you once, Bob…July 15th, the whole charade….dead, now alive…lying to me day after day after day. Matthew’s dead, Bob, and right this minute I’m holding you solely responsible. So you better do some fast talking, because Matthew’s mamma is coming in here and she’s not going to be nearly as nice as me. Now tell me what the hell is going on before I do to you what you did to my boy.”

  Alex hung his head in silence.

  Jonathan appealed to him, “I was in there with my kids God Damn it! You were supposed to be my friend. You were my best friend.”

  Alex remained silent.

  The kitchen door flew open and Mary stormed in. She walked directly up to him getting about six inches from his face before speaking. “I guess you weren’t expecting to see us, were you Bob?”

  He hung his head and remained silent.

  “You’re not going to talk to me?”

  He sat silent.

  “Why you no good fucking son of a bitch,” she screamed as she shoved him with all her weight knocking the chair over backwards. The back of his head made a loud thump when it smashed into the floor. In a second Mary was on top of him, straddling his chest with her legs and tearing into his face with her nails like a lioness digging its claws into the neck of some wounded prey. It took all Jonathan’s strength to pull her off.

  “Leave me alone!” she screamed at Jonathan. “He killed Matthew!” She twisted out of Jonathan’s grip and in a second was back on top of him.

  Jonathan wrestled her off again.

  “I warned you,” he said to Alex.

  Mary’s hands were shaking and she had pieces of his latex mask and flesh hanging from her fingernails. “I’m sorry,” she cried, tears streaming down her face. “That son of a bitch killed Matthew.”

  Alex lay on the floor half unconscious with his latex face in shreds and scratches, some quite deep, oozing blood. He looked like a creature from the underworld on a Halloween night, but he still remained silent.

  Jonathan looked sharply at Mary, “Get me some wet towels and some peroxide. And if you can find any rubbing alcohol bring that too.”

  Mary returned with the peroxide and alcohol and a couple of tan bath towels.

  Jonathan soaked a towel in rubbing alcohol and bent over and wiped off the rest of the latex mask revealing the face of their old friend Bob Runyan. Bob writhed in pain as the alcohol snuck into the cuts. Jonathan soaked the other towel in peroxide and dressed the wounds.

  “Mary, you should probably leave. I’m going to have to break him and it may get pretty violent.”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” answered Mary firmly.

  Bob broke his silence, “Keep that bitch away from me and I’ll talk to you.”

  Jonathan slapped him hard with an open hand, “Don’t you ever call her that again!”

  “Jonathan, she’s in on the whole thing. She’s the one that you should be questioning.”

  “He’s just trying to confuse everything,” said Mary. “He’s going to try to put all the blame somewhere else. I’m not leaving you alone with that lying son of a bitch!”

  Jonathan recognized some truth in Mary’s words, “Whatever you have to say, you can say it to both of us.”

  Bob shook his head, “Come on Jonathan, it’s me. Believe me; you have to get her out of here. I’ll tell you everything, but I can’t do it with her here.”

  “Why did you do it?” asked Mary. “Let me guess, you were supposed to get the kids out, weren’t you? But you left ours in there. And what about Jonathan…..you left him in there to die, too. What were you doing? Were you hiding? Why the big masquerade? I was at your funeral. I saw your wife and kids. How could you do it to them? And Jonathan, he was your best friend and Matthew was your god son for Christ’s sake.”

  “Jonathan, listen to me, she’s evil. She killed her own kid and she’ll do the same to both of us.”

  Mary was fumbling in the kitchen drawer and came back with a 12 inch serrated knife. She pointed it right between Bob’s eyes. “You’re going to talk. You’re going to tell me everything I need to know or I’m going to cut out your heart, just like you did mine, when you killed Matthew.”

  “Jonathan you need to get her away from me, she’s twisted. Get her out of here and I’ll tell you everything. I promise, please Jonathan, get her away from me.” Before Jonathan could react Mary pulled the knife back and lunged with a single underhand motion driving the knife an inch into his kneecap. Bob screamed so loud that it shook the room, “Please I beg you, get her away from me.” He started to cry, “Jonathan, why are you letting her do this to me!”

  She put her face two inches from his and hissed, “Talk to me Bob, what is the next phase of this perverted plan? This doesn’t have anything to do with the Muslims or Middle East peace, or compromise does it? You think you’ve duped us all, haven’t you, but you haven’t fooled me.”

  Bob was hyperventilating, stuttering about to speak, but before he could get an intelligible word out of his mouth she thrust the knife into his right knee cap. He let out another bellowing scream.

  “I’m going to do it, do you believe me Bob?

  I’m going to open you up, if you don’t talk to me in five seconds.”

  “Okay, okay, I know the next phase of the mission, but before I say anything, tell him that you were a part of it, that you and your cousin were in a cell.”

  Jonathan looked over at Mary and asked, “Is t
his true?”

  “Jonathan he’s doing it again, he’s blame shifting. You know I would never kill my own children.”

  Jonathan looked over at Bob, “I don’t believe you. It’s not going to work, so knock it off! Now you’ve made me curious. Tell me about phase two or I’m going to leave the kitchen for five minutes and let Mary finish this interrogation.”

  “Please don’t leave me alone with her. Please she’ll kill me.”

  “So you admit to being a part of destroying the Federal Building on July 15th.”

  “Jonathan, there’s a lot of people involved and there is a much higher purpose. But I’m warning you, you need to talk to Mary. She was more involved than me.”

  “He’s lying,” said Mary. “He’s trying to get us to fight with each other to take the attention away from him. How are we going to believe anything he says after what he’s done to us? He’s a liar and a murderer.”

  “No, you need to calm down. Mary, you’re getting hysterical. First we’re going to listen, then we’ll determine what we do with it. Do you understand? If you don’t calm down, I’m going to make you leave.”

  Jonathan continued, “What was the operation’s name,” asked Jonathan.

  “Benedict.”

  Jonathan listened with curiosity. “Were there people involved from our unit?”

  “Yes, there was at least one of your people and a few others in the agency.”

  “Who?”

  “You know I can’t tell you that, Jonathan. If I tell you, they’ll kill me. Isn’t it enough to know that there were others involved?”

  “No, it’s not enough. Who were they, Bob?”

  “They’re at the top, and your wife, Jonathan, no matter what she tells you, she’s involved. Jonathan she’s in this thing deep. Constrain her, let me work with you and we’ll get some real answers. There’s a lot that I don’t even know.”

  Mary started crying, “Jonathan, make him shut up. I can’t stand to hear him lie.”

  Jonathan was stunned by Bob’s words. “Why in the world would a US government agency have anything to do with an act of terror?”

  “It’s complicated; you just have to believe me that no one was supposed to die. It all went wrong; no one was supposed to die!”

  “Jonathan, he’s telling you what he thinks you’ll believe. He’s not going to tell us the truth,” pleaded Mary.

  “I’m telling you the truth,” screamed Bob.

  “Then what happened? If no one was supposed to die, what in God’s name happened?”

  “That was her doing. Mary, you tell us about the bombing. Why did you do it?” asked Bob.

  Mary took the knife and cut open his shirt. “Why you no good, lying, mother fucking, son of a bitch!”

  “Mary!” yelled Jonathan. “Let’s hear him out.” He took the knife from her.

  Mary looked at him half-crazed “Why? He lied about being in the office and let his own wife and kids believe he was dead. How can you listen to someone who let his own wife and kids bury him?”

  “Jonathan you need to get her out of here, she’s nuts.”

  “She’s not going anywhere,” answered Jonathan.

  “You need to open your eyes,” said Bob.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “And you don’t see it?” asked Bob.

  “See what?”

  “You need to leave this thing alone. It’s bigger than all of us. Just walk away, there’s no way you can win.”

  Mary yelled, “How can you listen to him? They’ve staged every one of these events. Read him the emails and let him answer those.”

  Jonathan looked confused. “What is the mission for the F-18 on Tuesday?”

  Bob was shocked by Jonathan’s words and said nothing.

  “Do you see,” said Mary. “He doesn’t have any explanation. It’s all a cover up.”

  “How do you know about that?” he asked.

  “Listen to me Bob we don’t have time for this. Either you’re going to come clean with me or I’m going to give Mary back the knife and I think she’ll do just what she promised.”

  “You know that I can’t say any more. I’ve already said too much.”

  “Have it you own way,” Jonathan held the knife out for Mary, but before she took it Bob answered.

  “Okay, There’s a squadron flying to protect the President for the State of the Union address.”

  “What about the morning mission before the address?”

  “I don’t know anything about a morning mission.”

  “Jonathan, he’s lying. They’re staging this just like they did the first attack. What he’s saying is ridiculous.”

  “If anything else is going on, you need to ask Bill Reed and not me.”

  “So he’s the one involved.”

  “Who else?”

  “Jesus Christ, I don’t know, they’re all at the top.”

  There was a loud scream from upstairs, it was Carly. Jonathan raced upstairs to find her crying and shaking nearly uncontrollably in her bed. “What’s wrong sweetie?” he asked as he sat next to her.

  “I had a nightmare and I’m afraid.”

  “It’s okay, sweetie.”

  “What are you and mommy doing downstairs with Uncle Bob?”

  “We’re just asking him a few questions.”

  “Is mama going to kill him?”

  “No mama’s not going to hurt him.”

  Jonathan had a flash of fear, knowing that he had left Mary alone with Bob in the kitchen. He tucked Carly into her bed, flipped on the television and raced back to the kitchen. Mary was on top of him again and had cut off most of his shirt with the knife and was digging the knife into his chest when he came in. Even through the most severe interrogations, Jonathan had never seen a man more terrified.

  “Tell him, tell him what you told me,” she screamed.

  “It wasn’t supposed to detonate; we were supposed to stop it. We were supposed to stop it, now get her off of me. Jonathan, get her away from me, she’s evil!”

  Jonathan pulled Mary off.

  “So you did it, you put the explosives in the building? You killed my son.”

  “Jonathan help me, please you know how we do these things. They weren’t supposed to detonate. We were going to stop it right before the President’s G12 summit.”

  “Why? Why would you do something as horrible as this?” asked Jonathan.

  “It came from the top, it’s all part of a program.”

  “The top? Are you saying the President of the United States?”

  “It’s a prime directive, I’m not sure who’s read in.”

  “Why would the President be involved with a program like this?”

  “He needs someone to monitor terrorism and the effect it’s having on the American people. Terror is a good thing for unity, patriotism, and incumbent parties as long as it’s stopped before it happens. You have to believe me, we never intended for anything like this to happen.”

  “Did you hear him, Jonathan, the agency is a part of it,” yelled Mary. “We are being terrorized by our own government!”

  Mary looked directly at Bob, “And the administration sanctioned it.”

  Bob nodded again, “I don’t know, I think so.”

  “How long has this been going on?” asked Jonathan.

  It’s been going on since 2008. The attempt to take out the Brooklyn Bridge, the attack on the Empire State Building, the assassination attempt on the Secretary of Defense, it was all a part of the same operation. All the foiled attempts since 9/11 have been part of the operation. Now please, please, get her away from me.”

  “I told you,” said Mary. “I told you the administration was behind it all.”

  “What about Blue Heron, was it all a scam?”

  “No, you were legitimately monitoring the terrorists. But they became few and far between, while the country continued to spend billions in a war and on homeland security.”

  “So you were there to make sure
that the country stayed interested in the President’s programs.”

  Mary interjected, “So you’re a terrorist? What you’re telling me is that you are a fucking terrorist!”

  “We created it and then stopped it.”

  “Then what happened?” ask Jonathan.

  “We don’t know, we think she did it.”

  “That’s ridiculous! Our children were in there.”

  Mary had not yet caught up with the conversation, “But miraculously neither you nor your children were in the building when it blew up.”

  “You have to believe me, it was only a coincidence.”

  Jonathan’s blood began to boil, “You’re lying Bob! Your death, all the preparations, the big cover-up, it was too well conceived not to have been planned from the get-go. Mary’s right! You meant to blow up that building!”

  “Jonathan you have to believe me. We would never do anything like that.”

  “You killed my son for Presidential approval ratings?” Mary started repeating over and over, “You killed Matthew, you killed my son, he tried to kill you and Carly. Don’t you see it Jonathan? They planted the bombs and set the detonators. It was him. He’s lying, they wanted it to happen. Kill him Jonathan, just like he killed Matthew! Please, for both of us, kill him!”

  Jonathan squeezed the knife. He had never felt so much hatred in all of his life. He held the knife to Bob’s throat, “What are you doing next, you’re going to do it again aren’t you?”

  “Yes it’s going to happen again.”

  “Where?”

  “I can’t answer that.”

  “And you’re going to do something with an F-18 just before the State of the Union.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “A liquefied natural gas plant,” said Mary. “Where, Bob? Where is it going to happen?”

  “I can’t answer that.”

  Jonathan pressed the knife against his throat until it started to bleed.

  Bob started to cry and then blurted out, “Lexington, Kentucky.

  “When will it be over?” asked Jonathan.

  “It will never be over,” whimpered Bob. “Every time we do something, it needs to be balanced with something else. The American people believe we failed in Virginia and now we have to succeed someplace else to show that the money we are spending is working.”