The Manhattan Incident

by Raymond Poincelot

  That night he called Alfred with another throw away cell phone. They arranged to meet for dinner at the local diner. At the designated time, Jeremiah was already seated in a back corner booth. When he saw Alfred enter, he waved him to the corner. They ordered dinner and made small talk. Once the food arrived, Jeremiah put some money into the juke box to play a few songs to muffle their conversation with background noise. Jeremiah was feeling paranoid. Why would anyone pay attention to him given his ministerial white collar? Still, why take a chance, he thought. Jeremiah explained about the champagne bomb. “Alfred, do you have a locker at work? “Yes, I do. It’s where I put my clothes when I change into my hotel food service uniform.” “Good, when the time comes, I’ll give you the champagne bottle in a shopping bag. You can store it there until the God-given moment.”

  “Jeremiah, how will I recognize the God-given moment?” “Alfred, here’s a picture of Dr. Cabrot I printed from the web. Keep it with you. The meeting you told me about will start in a few weeks. Pay attention from the very start and watch the arrivals. The minute you see Cabrot, call me. I will arrange to get you the bottle that day. Once you spot him, trail him carefully like you were delivering food, in case anyone spots you. You must find out what room Cabrot and his associates, if any, are staying in. Don’t call me any more with your cell phone or any other phone. Use this phone.” Jeremiah handed him another throw away cell phone. “I will let you know when the God-given moment is upon us. Is everything clear, Alfred?” “Yes, Jeremiah; It is crystal clear.” “One last thing is important, Alfred. Don’t breathe a word of this to anyone; swear on God’s holy mission that you won’t.” Alfred responded. “By all that is holy and willed by God, I swear that I will keep my silence.” They finished their dessert and went their separate ways.

  Nearly three weeks later Alfred was wheeling an empty food cart to the elevator. He pressed the down button and heard the hum of the rising elevator. The red down arrow lit up and the door opened. Alfred first saw the two soldiers in uniform step forward. They asked him to move aside. Alfred thought to himself how obnoxious the two were. He caught a quick glimpse of their name tags over their breast pockets, Privates Joseph Torelli and Lisa Stockton. As Alfred stepped back out of the way, he nearly did a double take. Three men in suits stepped out behind the two soldiers. Alfred recognized one of them immediately as Dr. John Cabrot, the Anti-Christ. He memorized the other two faces as best he could. As soon as he saw what floor the elevator stopped on, he rushed to the nearest service elevator and ascended. As fast as possible, he pushed the cart part way out of the service elevator. He spotted the men moving down the hall. He deliberately caught the wheel of the cart in the door floor track, making a lot of noise trying to free it. The ruse to buy time paid off. He saw the group stop at room 1225. He pushed the floor button for the food service area and went back down. Once in the food area he stepped out the back door to the loading dock. Taking out the cell phone that Jeremiah gave him, he called Jeremiah. Jeremiah answered. Alfred excitedly said, “The Anti-Christ is here with two other men. They also have two soldiers who appear to be guarding them. I got a good look at the two with Cabot.” “Alfred, you are a good Christian. God is proud of you. Let’s meet for dinner tonight at 6:00 PM at the same diner as last time.”

  Jeremiah used Google to track down various people who had who had appeared with Dr. Cabrot at various news events dealing with the Blue Flu virus. He downloaded pictures of several associates of Dr. Cabrot. With any luck, he thought, Alfred will be able to identify which ones and they’ll turn out to be significant minions of the Anti-Christ. He hurried rode his bicycle to the diner. The backpack he wore contained his laptop and the champagne bomb. He wore the detonator around his neck on a chain. Jeremiah wasn’t taking any chances of accidentally setting off the bomb. He would leave that to Alfred.

  At the diner over dinner Jeremiah showed pictures to Alfred. Alfred identified the two who were with Dr. Cabrot. “Alfred, God is with us. Those two are likely Dr. Ralph Miller and Dr. Ahmed Gupta. They handled the clinical trials and lab viral diagnostics. If we get all three, there is no way the Anti-Christ can prevail. We’ll have taken out his minions, too!” Alfred could see the excitement in Jeremiah’s eyes. In turn, he felt a rush of joy. He was doing God’s work. “Alfred, here’s the detonator. Wear it around your neck. At all times be very careful to not press it accidentally. Next he handed the shopping bag over. “Here’s the champagne bottle. Note that it is a Dom Perignon. When you deliver it to the room, they will be most impressed by what you will call “Compliments of the Hotel.” Good luck Alfred. You will have two minutes to escape once you press the button. That should give you plenty of time to get to safety. May God be with you. Once the deed is done, call me on the cell phone.” Inwardly, Jeremiah knew that was one call he would never get. He didn’t even feel badly. He rationalized that God would take Alfred to his well-deserved reward. Some day he too would join God and Alfred, but not yet. God still had more work for him to do.

  VIDEO: THE INCIDENT. The video scene shows Dr. Cabrot sitting in the hotel suite living room. He looked over at Ahmed Gupta and Ralph Miller and said “I hope room service gets here with dinner soon. I’m hungry and could use a drink. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow at the UN.” Ahmed and Ralph nod their heads in agreement. Suddenly, a knock is heard at the door. As Joe goes to the door he hears, “Room service.” Joe opens the door and sees the large food service cart and says “Come in.” Alfred wheels the cart in carefully noting who is in the room. Seeing all three targets, he says, “I have one more thing in the hall, complimentary champagne from the hotel management. He steps into the hallway and brings in a silver three-legged champagne bucket filled with ice and the bomb in a bottle. Alfred lifts the bottle up so that all can see the Dom Perignon label and notes the appreciative looks. With a flourish he pulls out a velvet box from beneath the cart which contains visible champagne flutes. Alfred walked over to the coffee table across from Dr. Cabrot and placed the box down and removed five glasses. “Please open it, now” said Dr. Cabrot. Alfred cringed inside and hesitated. He wasn’t expecting to open it. “Sure,” said Alfred nervously. Joe noted the hesitation and the sweat dripping down the room service waiter’s forehead.

  Joe listened to his inner voice and suddenly drew his army issue sidearm, the M9 Beretta. He yelled “Freeze! Put your hands on your head. Lisa motioned John, Ahmed and Ralph to go to the bathroom, then drew her own weapon. Alfred complied slowly. He thought to himself, Perfect. I have the detonator under my uniform cap. As both hands neared the cap, he suddenly ripped it off with his left hand while grabbing the detonator with his right. Joe and Lisa both fired, hitting Alfred in the chest. The detonator slipped from his hand and landed on the floor. Alfred started to black out and fell backward to the floor, hitting the cart on the way down. It rolled backwards and jammed in the doorway. He knew he was dying and reached out with his hand for the detonator. At the same time Joe raced to grab the detonator while Lisa ran to the bathroom. Alfred’s last conscious effort was pressing the button. Joe cursed and made a quick decision. He thought it must have a delay to allow the assassin to get away, since the bomb had not detonated. It was quicker to the bathroom than un-jamming the cart from the doorway. He dove into the bathroom and noted that Lisa, John, Ahmed and Ralph were all crouched in the bathtub shower. Slamming the door behind him, Joe jammed himself into the tub as best he could. He yelled into his communication microphone, “Cen-Com, bomb, room 1225.” Seconds later there was a loud explosion and the blast wave caused all of them to black out.

  DEAR READER. A few hundred feet away on the street, Reverend Jeremiah recounted in his autobiography what he saw and heard. He looked up and saw the windows on part of the 12th floor of the Millennium UN Plaza Hotel explode outward, followed by a fireball. Debris rained down to the sidewalk below as pedestrians ran for their lives. Smiling, Jeremiah said in a whisper, “Good bye Anti-Christ and your minions; May you rot in Hell. Good bye, Alfred and G
odspeed.” Jeremiah pulled his hoodie up further and walked away. The street cameras didn’t get a facial view at all.

  VIDEO: THE INCIDENT. General Straub was at the UN checking on the conference arrangements. His cell phone rang and the ringtone was the highest priority one. “General Straub, here.” “Sir, there was an assassination attempt at the Millennium UN Plaza Hotel. Judging from the location and a short communication from someone in room 1225, we’re pretty certain the targets were Drs. Cabrot, Gupta and Miller. How do you wish to proceed?” “Have the local police cordon off the area. Use local fire control, if there is any fire. I want rescue and recovery to be exclusively military only. Have ambulances ready to go the minute recovery is complete. I want an army medevac copter ready for transport to the nearest military hospital if critical and if not, the medical facilities at West Point. Have the best military doctors standing by at both locations. This response is top secret. No names or conditions are to be released unless I authorize them. Bring in the FBI to conduct the investigation. Any injured civilians are to be taken away also in protective custody. We’ll sort them out later, in case the bomber is one of them. All recovered individuals are to be placed under protective guard around the clock guard.” “Yes, sir; Consider it done.”

  PRESENT DAY. At this juncture in the video, Paul paused and wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. The video wasn’t exactly true to events that followed next. Paul thought back to that time in private. So he hit the stop button and said, “Everyone, please take a break for 10 minutes. Use the bathroom, get a snack from the vending machine, or just take a walk. I don’t want to see anyone sitting here over the next ten minutes.” The room emptied out rapidly. Paul was relieved to see that the teacher, Edward Rabideau, leave the room also. Paul thought back to that time. In his mind he reran the events.

  Some three days later, John Cabrot was the last to regain consciousness. He blinked several times as his eyes gradually focused. Looking around he saw Ralph Miller sitting in a chair nearby. “Ralph, where the hell am I; what happened?” “First John, how are you feeling?” “I feel like I was in a tackle football game and got the worst of it.” “It will get better. I know. I was there a short while ago. We are all in an isolated, protected medical ward at West Point. What happened was an assassination attempt against us with a bomb. All of us, including Joe and Lisa are OK, though bruised quite a bit. We also suffered minor concussions from the blast pressure wave. We were buried under some rubble, but the bathroom walls and tub protected us reasonably well. Joe and Lisa, being younger and in much better shape than us recovered first, followed by Ahmed, then me and finally you. With a chuckle, Ralph said, “The two older farts took longer, as is to be expected.” “Who did this,” asked John? “I don’t know. We are going to have a briefing by General Straub right after breakfast. Maybe all our questions will be answered then.”

  The following morning they were all sitting in the designated conference room. When General Straub entered, Joe and Lisa leaped up and gave smart salutes. “At ease, Privates; sit down. Your fast decisive action protected our national alien viral resources. Good job, Privates. Given your actions, a promotion will be coming your way. You will also be assigned exclusively as body guards to Drs. Cabrot, Gupta and Miller from now on. You will also select two additional soldiers to guard, as we want around the clock protection. All of you will answer only to me. You arrange the shifts any way you wish. I’m sure you have many questions about what happened. Here’s what we have between the FBI and Military Intelligence investigations. The bomber’s name was Alfred Bradshaw. He did not survive unfortunately. From what we have pieced together, he was a loner, had no family, and belonged to some church run by a Reverend Jeremiah Cooper. The Reverend acquired some notoriety by hiding out with his flock at the Bronx Zoo during the viral attack stage. The Reverend got the bomber his job at this hotel. Other than that, we can’t establish any connection to the Reverend. We also can’t connect the reverend or Alfred to any bomb purchase. Checking computers, street camera surveillance, and cell phone records have turned up nothing.”

  “All that information aside, Reverend Cooper is the prime suspect. He has named you, John, as the Anti-Christ, and you other two, Ahmed and Ralph, as the Anti-Christ’s minions. He blames you for foiling God’s rapture. We got that information from interviews with some of the parishioners. Alfred Bradshaw was seen with Cooper on a few occasions, but we can’t tie the two directly in a plot to kill you. Cooper’s definitely a zealot and likely crazy to boot. Some of his parishioners feel that Cooper’s tone in his sermons borders on extreme paranoid anger. Still, we have no proof. The FBI did question him, but couldn’t shake anything out of him. Cooper pointed out that sermons in themselves are not a crime, they are just words. He denies inciting any one to take action. We intend to infiltrate his church and see if in time, we can get something on the Reverend.”

  “Infiltration and gathering data will take a lot of time. It may come to naught. There is also the possibility that someone else targeted you. Given all these unknowns and your expertise being in short supply, until we can push more epidemiologists and virologists through the graduate school pipeline, we can’t take any chances. You all are needed to develop a better vaccine against the Blue Flu virus. The Bird flu vaccine is not the best answer, as it turned out to work only 60% of the time according to your latest data analyses of global deaths. While the so -called Tums solution helped those who didn’t avoid the disease after the vaccination, that isn’t good enough. We want a vaccine that protects 100% against the alien virus so that next time we’ll be ready for those bastards. We also need you to mentor others in your labs to build a cadre of viral specialists in case the aliens have other viruses in their arsenal.”

  General Straub paused for a minute. Then he continued. “By now you are wondering where this is going. We can’t guarantee absolute protection. So we are going to put you into something analogous to the witness protection program. You will all get new identities. Ralph, you are the only one with a wife and children. They will be folded into the program with you. John and Ahmed, you have no current attachments, so you are easy. So, gentlemen, while you were out cold here, we announced your deaths. You will be buried in closed caskets in a few more days. There will be a day of national mourning decreed for you by the President. Even she doesn’t know that you survived. The public will grieve considerably, given your efforts to keep them alive. You are going out as heroes. You will get some plastic surgery, grow a beard, color your hair, or shave it off, or whatever it takes to make you look different enough. Eventually, you will re-emerge in your new roles, actually the same as before. We’ll say you were promoted within the existing structure because you worked indirectly at another lab underneath the deceased’s oversight. Given the chaos and lack of news coverage during the Blue Flu crisis, it is doubtful that anyone will pay much attention. So, whoever went after the three of you will consider their mission accomplished and you should be much safer with your new identities. John, from now on you are Paul Laurent, Ahmed you are Bhanu Rajani, and Ralph you are Melvin Hopkins. We will create all new documents for your new identities. Your new academic records will show the same degrees that you currently possess.”

  The three of them looked at General Straub in stunned silence. Finally Dr. Miller asked “Is this change permanent?” “Well, if we eventually do capture the party or parties responsible and feel confident that you are not in any danger, we might announce your return from the dead. John, you look like you have something to say.” “Umm, yes, I have grown somewhat attached to Ralph’s assistant, Nurse Roberta. She might recognize me, even if outwardly changed. Or I might inadvertently let something slip. So, might she be let in on our secret?” General Straub rolled his eyes a bit. Finally, he said “I’ll see what we can do, but no promises.” John hesitated for a moment. “I guess I should have told all of you, but we were saving it for a surprise. Roberta and I slipped away a while back and got married in Vegas. We really need t
o stay together.” General Straub’s eyes twinkled a little bit. “OK, how can I say no now? But make sure Roberta understands the seriousness of the situation. Oh, by the way, I offer my congratulations to both of you.” The General pulled the bottle of single malt from his desk along with four glasses. “I think this occasion calls for a celebratory drink. Here’s to your marriage and new identities for you all.” Their glasses clinked.

  A few minutes later, Ralph said “Surely the doctors that treated us know that we didn’t die. How can we be assured that the secret will be kept?” “Good question, but don’t worry. There was only one doctor, a career military man with top secret clearance. He understands the situation and has already signed your death certificates. He and I are the only ones who know that you survived. Everyone at Area 51 has top secret clearance and will keep our secret. And in anticipation of your next question, the doctors that will perform your plastic surgery and hair transplants are the same ones that work with the FBI witness protection program. They are 100% discrete. You will be absolutely safe. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to the Global Strategic Initiative Conference at the UN. Too bad you have to miss it, but you will be briefed eventually. One last thing, watch the TV at 10:00 AM tomorrow. You won’t want to miss your funerals.”

  John, Ralph and Ahmed watched the televised service the next day. Every channel carried it. Speaker after speaker extolled their accomplishments, naming them heroes for saving the human race. Speaker after speaker promised that whoever was responsible for their deaths would not escape the hand of justice, no matter how long it took. John, Ralph and Ahmed were astonished and overwhelmed by the outpourings of praise and thanks for their lives, cut too short by a despicable act of violence. They were even more surprised when President Chung delivered the final words just before their cremains were laid to rest. Paul’s thoughts returned to the classroom.