Messages

by John Michael Hileman

  David gripped the counter. “I don’t have time to...” He stopped himself. The last thing he needed was a run in with security. “Never mind. Thanks for trying.”

  She gave him a blank stare as he backed away.

  Now what? According to the clock behind the desk, it was 9:45. Time was draining away, and with it, all hope of stopping Alex. He frantically looked left, then right. Okay, stay CALM, David. You’re missing something. Look for it. The answer is here. Somewhere. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. There were words all over the airport. In all the buzz of written instructions, there had to be another clue. That’s how it worked. There was always another message, he just needed to trust. He began walking forward, letting his eyes bounce from sign to sign.

  Then he stopped.

  His eyes narrowed.

  It couldn’t be. He stood transfixed on a man entering the glassed-in front doors of the airport. He was wearing dark blue pants, a crisp short sleeved white shirt with a tie, and on his pocket, the silver wings of a pilot. His suit coat was draped over the maroon bag he was wheeling behind him. David cocked his head and squinted. Could it be? The pilot paused in front of the row of monitors near the door to scan the information. David stepped left to get a better look at him. The man turned and began walking toward David.

  It was him!

  A sense of relief and astonishment washed over David. Not only had the messages led him here, but here was Bill, the man from the convenience store––and he was a pilot! There was no way his mind could have orchestrated this. Clearly something greater was guiding things. Maybe it was stress, or perhaps just the lack of sleep, but David gave in to the emotion welling up inside him, and he began to cry. Something deep within him was stirred to know that the author of the messages could do this! That he could truly be in contact with God was overwhelming.

  Bill slowed as he approached, then he stopped. His bushy white mustache rose, and the wrinkles around his friendly eyes deepened. “I know you.” He pointed. “From the convenience store, right? I never did get your name.”

  “David. David Chance.” He sniffed and held out his hand.

  Bill took it. “Are you alright?”

  “Yeah. I just got a little overwhelmed when I saw you.”

  He looked at David sideways. “––Why?”

  “Why?” David looked down at the tiled floor. Good question. What could he say to that? Was he going to tell him everything, lay it all on the line? Time was running out. Whatever it was, he needed to say it fast. “There’s so little time. I don’t know where to begin.”

  “Just take it one sentence at a time, son.”

  David took a breath. “You remember how I won that money on the lottery ticket?”

  “Well yah! I’ll never forget it.” Bill laughed.

  “Well it wasn’t luck. I knew that ticket was going to be a winner because something supernatural is happening to me.” The words came tumbling out. “I can’t expect you to believe me. I can hardly believe it myself. But I need you to believe, because I need you to fly me to Bangor.”

  “Whoa, slow down, son. You need me to do what?”

  “Fly me to Bangor. Because if you don’t, something very bad is going to happen. When I saw you,” he looked at Bill with pleading eyes, “I knew you were sent to take me.”

  Bill stared in stunned silence.

  “I know it sounds crazy, but I’m telling you the truth. You’ve got to believe me.”

  “So you need one seat––and you’re going to Bangor.”

  “I don’t even need a seat. I’ll sit on the floor.”

  Bill ran his hand through his graying hair. “Well I’ll be.”

  David squinted. “So- you believe me?”

  His brows rose. “Oh, I believe you alright.”

  David bent over and exhaled. “Oh thank God.”

  “I had a feeling I got stuck here for a reason.”

  David looked up. “Huh?”

  “The only reason I’m here is because last night one of the passengers on my private jet got sick, and I had to make an emergency landing. But when I tried to take off again, I kept having all kinds of warning lights come on. I never saw anything like it! And now, this morning, the mechanic calls and says there’s nothing wrong with the plane!”

  David smiled.

  “And now here you are, and you need to get Bangor.”

  “So can you do it?”

  “Why not? I’m going there anyway, and I have a seat open. I gotta tell you, son, I’m amazed. You’re either the luckiest man on the planet, or you’re telling the truth. Either way, it’ll be a heck of a story for the Mrs.”

  David dug in his pocket. “What would you charge for a ticket?”

  “From Lewiston to Bangor, normally I’d say four hundred...”

  Their eyes met.

  “Come on son. Let’s get you to Bangor.”

  Chapter 58

  The message said, bomb in pieces hangar eleven luggage cart end runway. David replaced the magazine in the pocket of the seat in front of him. He looked out the window. Apparently, Alex had to put the bomb together first, then put it on a cart to be detonated when Air Force One was at the end of the runway. It was horrible to think that Alex had come to the place where he could kill a plane full of people to achieve his goals.

  His head felt numb.

  The plane made a thump as the landing gear touched down, and David studied the building in the distance. For an international airport, it wasn’t much larger than the one in Lewiston. They taxied around and came to a stop several yards from the gate.

  Bzzz. “Thank you for flying North Blue, it has been a pleasure to serve you today. The pilot has turned off the seat belt sign so...”

  David quickly unfastened and headed to the front of the plane. “Can I see the captain?”

  The thin blonde flight attendant gave a red lipsticky smile and moved aside to reveal a cramped high-tech cockpit. Bill’s head poked around the chair.

  “I figured you’d be the first one off.”

  “Yeah. Hey, can you tell me where hangar eleven is?”

  “Ah- I think south of the airport. Just grab a taxi, they’ll get you there.”

  “Thanks, Bill. You have no idea how much you’ve helped me out.”

  “Don’t mention it. It’s my pleasure!”

  David was looking over his shoulder at the flight attendant unlatching the door.

  “Here.” Bill held out a business card. “When this is all over, I want you to give me a call and tell me the whole story.”

  He grabbed it. “Yeah, sure thing.” The door opened, and he was halfway across the tarmac before the second passenger exited the plane. He burst through the double doors and ran up the escalator to the security checkpoint. Just outside the gate was the main concourse. He jogged by the military greeters in front of the magazine store, skidded down the escalator to the lobby, and out the sliding doors to the front of the building. A taxi sat at the far entrance. David ran over. “Are you waiting for someone?” He breathed hard.

  “Yep. You.”

  David leapt in.

  “Where to?”

  “Hangar eleven.”

  “You won’t be able to get neah theya tahday.”

  David shook his head. “Ah- yeah. Just get me as close as you can.”

  The cab pulled away from the curb and started a slow circuit around the parking lot. “So––y’ever been to Bangor bafowa?”

  David looked at the back of the driver’s head. “Yes, sir, I have. I’m in kind of a hurry. Can you get me there quickly?”

  “I c’n try, but theya’s lots a traffic heayah tahday You know who’s visitin’ don’t ya?”

  David looked out the window at a field filled with hundreds of parked cars and a stream of people heading north. “Yeah, that’s ah, why I’m here.”

  “Yessah. All them people’s headed to the ayah base just north a heayah.”

  The taxi followed a road around the airport and passed
by the end of the runway. The driver pointed at a large metal building next to a parking lot. Three cruisers sat in front of a chain link fence. Another patrolled back and forth through the lot. “That’s hangah ‘leven bahind that fence over theya. You want me ta drop you at the side of the road? I doubt them officers will let us in the lawt.”

  David studied the scene. “Yeah, that’s good enough.”

  The car came to a stop just past the two entrances to the parking lot. David paid the man and climbed out onto the grass.

  “Have a good one!” The driver waved and smiled.

  David squinted at him. Yeah. He was about to go face to face with his best friend who betrayed him for money, and there were four police cruisers between him and saving the President of the United States. There was a pretty good chance he was not going to have a good one.

  The taxi pulled away, and David glanced up the street. He crouched down and pretended to tie his shoe. Casually he looked up at the parking lot. The three cars were still bunched together. The fourth was reaching the far end of the lot and turning back toward him. How would Alex get in? There was no way he could go through the front gate. If he was in there, he must have found another entrance, or scaled the fence. David starting walking up the road. There had to be a spot where he could get through. I hope the fence isn’t electrified. A siren went off behind him; he twisted around.

  Lights were flashing on the patrolling car as it pulled out of the lot with two of the other cars close behind. They headed off toward the airport, leaving one car at the gate. David squinted. It looked like there was only one officer in the car. Maybe the Secret Service found out about the plot and called for backup? The door to the police car opened. David leapt behind a postal box. He gritted his teeth. Oh YEAH! How suspicious was THAT? He looked up at the sky. How you chose ME for this I will NEVER understand! He stole a quick look around the mailbox. The officer apparently hadn’t noticed him. He was now on the other side of the fence––heading toward the hangar! Frantically David looked around, traffic was heavy on the road, but the parking lot was clear.

  He scrambled to his feet and bolted across the lot. The cruiser was empty, and the officer had disappeared. He looked over his shoulder as he approached the padlocked gate. Casually he reached out and pulled on the lock. It came loose, and the gate swung open. He grabbed it, slipped through, and replaced the lock.

  Did the cop go inside? There were no windows on the front so he couldn’t see in. He could be circling around the back. David scooted across to the building. He carefully turned the doorknob. His heart throbbed in his chest as the door swung open. What am I supposed to do? There was no time for second guessing. He had to make a decision. Enter or don’t. He looked around, then peered into the building. Still no sign of the officer. He eased in and closed the door behind him.

  It was a small lobby lit by a single florescent lamp over the entrance. The room had the appearance of a repair shop waiting room, with a sealed receptionist window across from a magazine covered coffee table and a tattered couch. On the far end, in the center of a wall littered with OSHA approved literature, was a metal door with a tiny plexiglass window. A dim light flickered in the room beyond.

  Did he go in there?

  David crossed the room and listened at the door; there was a faint scuffling. He quickly poked his head up and stole a glance through the small dirty window. The officer was standing beside a set of wooden boxes shining a flashlight on the side of one of them. David took a deep breath, then slowly raised his head to the window again. The officer brought the beam up and scanned the dark interior of the hangar. David ducked as the beam shined out through the plexiglass.

  Where’s Alex? His heart pounded. At any minute a gunshot was going to ring out from a dark corner of the hangar, and the officer was going to go down. But all was silent. Is he waiting for the officer to move on? He can’t wait long. David’s heart pounded harder as he looked again through the window. The officer had laid the flashlight down and was prying one of the boxes open with a crowbar.

  This is it! If Alex was watching, he would not allow this man to interfere. I HAVE to warn him! I CAN’T just sit here and watch him get killed! Frantically, David looked around the dimly lit room. Nothing spoke to him––and there wasn’t time anyway. He had to warn the officer. With a trembling hand, he gripped the doorknob and pulled in a deep breath. I have to do this. God help me! He peered through the window one last time before twisting the knob, but what he saw made him freeze in place. His hand recoiled. The cop had turned, the light was now showing clearly on his face. David stepped back from the door in horror. Alex! The officer was Alex.

  He had spoken of powerful friends. They must have orchestrated everything. All the pieces were in place. He had the identity, the parts to the bomb––an abandoned hangar. The light shined again through the window; David’s heart quickened. Footsteps came closer. There was a clanking sound. Was he coming out? The footsteps stopped. Scuffling. The footsteps retreated.

  David popped his head up over the lip of the window. He was back at the boxes. He had left his hat, shirt, and utility belt on a metal table near the door. David eyed the belt. If I can get to his gun without him hearing...

  Impossible! It’s too quiet.

  His mind raced. Now WHAT? He peered through the window, watching as Alex continued to work, his breath steamed up the glass. I just need to be patient. Maybe a plane will go over, then I can open the door without him hearing. He cocked his head. Nothing. He crouched beside the door. What if no planes go over? What then? What if... The muffled sound of an engine starting up seeped under the door. He stood. Alex was sitting on a tractor attached to a luggage cart. He was looking the other way.

  David grabbed the doorknob, slid into the room, and crawled along the cement floor to the metal table. He reached up and grabbed the gun from its holster.

  Immediately, the truck engine shut down. “You just don’t give up, do you?” Alex climbed down and headed around the boxes.

  David pointed the gun at his friend. “It’s over.” His voice shook. “I’m not going to allow you to take innocent lives.”

  “You really think you can shoot me?”

  The pistol trembled in David’s hands. “I’m not the same man I was two days ago, Alex. If you think I’m not capable, think again. I’m not going to let you hurt anyone.”

  “So, you would kill me to save the lives of others?”

  “Whatever it takes to stop you.”

  He chuckled. “Do you see the irony here? We’re no different.”

  “I’m nothing like you.”

  “Do you think the people on Air Force One are innocent? They’re not! They may not go out and kill people personally, but there’s still blood on their hands. They make decisions and people die. If I kill them, they cannot send soldiers to die in the war.” He looked David in the eye. “Soldiers like Brandon. Those people make decisions,” he said pointing out the doors, “and good people die!”

  David’s hands shook. “Two wrongs don’t make a right.”

  Alex squinted. “I don’t have time for this. Sometimes we make hard decisions for the greater good.” He shook his head. “That’s why I didn’t let you in on this. I knew you wouldn’t understand.”

  “Don’t try to make yourself sound noble. You’re in it for the money.”

  “Yes! I am in it for the money! You got me. I want out of this life. I want to have a family, settle down. I’m sick of the killing. But I’m trying to tell you something! I have spent the last fifteen years trying to make this world a better place. I’ve paid my dues. I’ve made my sacrifices. And I want out. I want to live the life of freedom and happiness I have been fighting for all these years.”

  David stood in shock. “You’ve been doing this––for years?”

  “I make the world a better place.”

  David’s mouth hung open. “By killing people?”

  “By stopping people from killing.”

  “You don’t
even know who’s on that plane! You have no idea who you’re killing!” He held the gun tighter.

  “They’re all responsible.”

  “Who makes that decision? Who chooses who lives and who dies?

  “Thankfully, not me.”

  “No? You only execute the act. I don’t care how you paint it, you’re a murderer.”

  “I said I don’t have time for this.” Alex stepped toward him.

  “I won’t let you do this!”

  “You don’t have a choice, David! I don’t need your consent.” He waved his hand in disgust. “You know what. Forget it. Just shoot me if you want. I don’t care anymore.” He turned and started loading the bomb onto the luggage carts.

  David emphasized his aim. “Stop, or I swear I’ll put a bullet in your leg!”

  “I’m done talking to you, David.”

  David pulled the hammer back. “Don’t make me do this.”

  Alex ignored him and bent to pick up a box.

  There was no other course of action. He was backed into a corner. David aimed carefully.

  And squeezed the trigger.

  The sound exploded off every metal surface in the room. But nothing came out of the barrel.

  Alex jumped to his feet. “I don’t believe it! You would actually shoot me!”

  David looked at the smoking gun, trying to understand what had happened.

  Alex strutted toward him. “Confused? That’s the gun Afif used to shoot me at my house. It still has blanks in it.” His voiced dripped with irony.

  “Why would you still...”

  Alex ripped the pistol from David’s hands and shoved him backwards; his eyes were fierce. “This is going to hurt you more than it’ll hurt me!” He snapped a kick into David shin; the pain forced him into a hunch. Alex, anticipating the reaction, moved in and drove a knee up into David’s chest, which threw him back. David tried to block, but it was useless. Alex had years of combat experience and several medals of accommodation for excellence. He controlled every move like an expert pool player setting up his next shot. Two jabs in quick succession put David’s head in a spin. And he didn’t see the leg sweep coming. His back slammed hard onto the concrete floor, knocking the wind out of him.