by N R Brooks
After dumping his body, I saw that it was already after 2am. I finished what I came here to do. All that was left was to go back home and hope that taking out Ziad and Atta was enough.
I returned to the Comfort Inn only to see the blue Nissan missing from the parking lot. Omari must have either jumped ship or went in search of Atta. That no longer concerned me. I returned to my room, took a shower, changed clothes, packed everything back up, checked out of the hotel and headed back home.
On the way back, I stopped in the middle of nowhere, took the blood-soaked blanket that I had used to wrap Atta’s arms and burned it on the side of the road. At this time of the morning, there was very little traffic, none going in my direction. When the blanket was sufficiently burned, I pissed on it to put out any remaining cinders and kicked it to scatter the ashes.
I had another cigarette, successfully blew a perfect smoke ring, threw the rest of the pack on the side of the road, and made my way back to Manhattan to hopefully enjoy a very uneventful yet glorious September 11th.
Chapter 31
“All news, all the time. This is 1010 WINS. You give us 22 minutes, we’ll give you the world.”
“Good morning, 64 degrees at eight o’clock. It’s Tuesday, September 11th. I’m Lee Harris, here’s what’s happening: it’s primary day, and the polls are open in New York City. Voters are deciding among about two hundred fifty candidates for mayor and city council and other assorted positions…”
It was 8am, and I was still about an hour outside of New York City. I decided to take my time since I was no longer in any rush. Even if my plans had failed and the attack was to still happen, there was nothing more I could do. Rushing would have made no difference. At the very least, I had convinced Keiko to stay home from work today, so I still had that.
I had been listening to 1010 WINS on the AM frequency for the past twenty minutes. Since it was a New York station, I figured they would be one of the first to report if anything did happen. Flight 11 should fly to Los Angeles like normal since Atta is definitely in no shape to fly. What a pity. Flight 175, on the other hand, was still a possibility. It won’t strike until 9:03 so I should be home or close to it by that time.
Flight 77 wouldn’t hit the Pentagon until around 9:37 and much like 175, that one was still a possibility. I still had not heard or read anything about any arrests, so my faith that their plan had also been foiled was growing less and less by the day. Lastly, Flight 93 should be a no-go as well. If anything I was just as confident that 93 would reach its intended destination as I was of Flight 11. I should know if my plan was successful in no more than three hours time.
As the clock ticked by and I passed countless cities and towns and miles and miles of trees and forest, I began focusing more and more on the clock. By the time the clock displayed 8:45, I almost became overwhelmed with anxiety. One more minute before the moment of truth. The first reports didn’t hit the news circuit until about 8:50. I would still have to wait five more minutes.
I focused intently on what was being discussed on the radio. NBA game at Madison Square Garden, more sports, more sports, advertisements, former school teacher charged with bank robbery and criminal plane hijacking—that’s ironic—peace talks between Israel and Palestine was canceled over disputes—more irony.
The clock was now showing 8:50. If any announcement was coming, it should be any minute.
Another goddamn advertisement…some Wall Street player is being sued in a sex bias case…more on the case…blah blah blah…another damn advertisement…now they are discussing the weather. It is 8:55 and so far nothing. I know I would have heard something by now. I was now driving through Yonkers and taking exit 4 onto the Saw Mill River Parkway south towards Manhattan. I was looking to see if there was any way I could see the twin towers from here but I was still too far away. I was in the suburbs of New York, yet I was still surrounded by trees.
I continued on until I made it into Riverdale, just north of Manhattan Island. Still nothing. I was getting anxious and frustrated. I had turned off the radio miles earlier, just before entering the outskirts of Yonkers. It was distracting me, and I didn’t want to take a wrong turn anywhere.
I still couldn’t see the towers once I crossed over into Manhattan. I figured I had severely overestimated just how tall they were. I had figured you could see them much further than you actually could. I eventually just gave up and made it all the way home before I even tried looking again. Traffic was still running like normal, I took that as a sign that today was just another day in Manhattan. When I parked my car, I walked over to Church Street and there they were. Both towers, still in pristine condition. It was well after the time that Marwan would have crashed into the South Tower, yet both were still there, no smoke, no gaping holes in the buildings, and no people jumping from the windows. I had won.
I fell to my knees, almost ready to cry. Not because I am sensitive, but because the rush of emotions hitting me all at once was almost too much to handle. I wanted to jump for joy, cry, scream, and laugh all at the same time. It was an emotional overload that was threatening to become a mental short circuit.
I ran as fast as I could back to the apartment and burst through the door, nearly scaring the living shit out of Keiko. I closed the door and ran up to her and gave her the biggest hug I had ever given anybody.
“Stan! Not so rough! You are going to smash the baby!”
“Sorry! I am just so happy to see you. You don’t even know how happy I am. I feel like I am going to explode!” I said, wheezing from how hard I ran just to get here. My lungs couldn’t keep up with the emotional surge I was experiencing.
“Well, I am happy to see you too! So what is the surprise? Today is the day, right?”
“Ah ha!” I said, pointing my finger in the air like a mad scientist. “Indeed today is the day. But you will have to wait until six o’clock. Your surprise should be on the news.”
She gave a look that almost came across as disappointment. “The news?” Then she thought she had figured out my surprise and her eyes beamed with excitement. “Wait, are you going to propose through the TV??”
I did not even think about that and now I felt like I was going to let her down.
“No, that isn’t it. But it will be just as good, I promise. You will know everything in due time. Just trust me, okay?” I gripped her shoulders and almost started shaking her in my joyous outburst.
“Haha. Okay, Stan. I trust you.” She seemed to find my erratic behavior hilarious. I could understand why. I don’t think I had ever been this happy. Not the day I lost my virginity to Alexis, not the day I met Keiko, and not even the day I found out I was going to be a father. Those days were definitely up there, but this was on a scale none other could reach. It was almost too much to comprehend.
“I think I need to go out for a run. My excitement is starting to seep out of my pores. I’ll be back!”
I didn’t even wait for a reply. I was out the door and running up and down lower Manhattan, burning off the immense surplus of emotion that was bottled up inside me. Some probably thought I was a lunatic, running down the street, screaming and yelling and waving my arms. I gave zero fucks. If anything, I figured I would just blend in with all of the other eccentric individuals that overflow the streets of this tiny little island.
I ran all the way to the Trade Center complex and just looked at the diversity that swarmed the streets and walkways. I listened to the music that played through the overhead speakers. Music that I had heard a thousand times played in documentaries that would have been filmed this very minute. This was an exciting time to be alive. And I am getting to share it with nearly three thousand people who have just been given a second chance.
I was feeling normal again. People were walking in and out of both towers, talking on their phones, talking to each other, some carrying briefcases, others carrying shopping bags from the underground mall. Some of these people might have been dead already. It was a strange feeling knowing that in
my original time, some of these folks had already been dead for seventeen years. Then I remembered that at home one of those very people was waiting for me. It sent a shiver down my back, down my legs, all the way to my toes. I decided to walk back home. I had done enough running for one day.
That evening, Keiko and I huddled next to each other on the couch to watch the CBS Evening News. I remember this show fondly as my dad would watch it every night. Of course, that familiar voice of Dan Rather and his almost whistled S sounds was oddly nostalgic. The last time I actually saw a picture of him, he was in his 80s. Here he is again on the TV looking like the retirement age man I remember so well. It is a strange thing to experience.
“Okay, now watch the whole show. I know this wasn’t what you were expecting, but just hold any judgment or comments until after it’s over, okay?” I said to Keiko, trying not to sound too serious even though I was.
“Okay, okay. I have to say, you sure do know how to keep a girl in suspense.”
“Well, it isn’t entirely intentional. That is just how everything turned out. Oh! It is starting.” I placed my finger to my mouth to signal quiet time.
“This is the CBS Evening News. With Dan Rather reporting from CBS News headquarters in New York.”
I couldn’t help but get mild chills from the opening theme from the show. Again, something I had not heard in a very long time yet still sounds as familiar as if I had heard it yesterday.
“Good Evening. A terrorist plot on America? CBS News has been told that a plot to hijack commercial aircraft and use them as guided missiles on numerous iconic American buildings was set for today but has been foiled just in the nick of time. Sources say that in addition to the Capitol Building and the Pentagon, the suspects had also planned to destroy both towers of the World Trade Center in New York in an attempt to finish what had been started with the 1993 bombing that took the lives of six and injured over a thousand.”
Once the twin towers were mentioned, I saw Keiko’s jaw go slack, hanging agape in awe. I looked at her and couldn’t hide the smile that was slowly widening on my face. She finally turned and looked at me, knowing that was the surprise.
“The trade center? You had something to do with this, didn’t you?” She said in a tiny voice, almost a whisper.
I couldn’t hold back my smile. I was feeling incredibly proud right now. I gave her the signal to hush and pointed back to the TV.
“The FBI was tipped off by an anonymous source about the attacks months in advance. It seems the tipster was insistent in his getting the word out and sent letter after letter to the FBI over the course of many months. Today, we learn that two of the named assailants were apprehended at a Gold’s Gym in Greenbelt, Maryland, just outside of Washington over a week ago. The two suspects are listed as Nawaf al-Hazmi and Khalid al-Mihdhar, both of Saudi Arabia.”
Keiko’s mouth was still hanging open. It made me almost want to start laughing. I was getting the reaction similar to what I had envisioned only hours earlier.
“Dulles International Airport narrowly escaped disaster today. While three of the named flights that were mentioned in the tipster’s letters arrived at their destination with no attempts at hijacking, American Airlines Flight 77 out of Dulles was not so lucky.”
My smile faded almost instantly and was replaced with a feeling of ultimate dread. Dan Rather indicated they narrowly escaped disaster, but he still added that they were not so lucky. I was getting a bad feeling.
“Two hijackers were arrested after Flight 77 touched down in an emergency landing at Dulles where they had departed from less than an hour earlier. One hijacker is reported as dead.”
“Oh shit.” The words escaped my mouth without me knowing it. Keiko heard me but had nothing to add. She was still stunned at the news about the twin towers being one of the targets.
“Law enforcement officials speculate that the two men that were apprehended on September 5th were part of the cell that attempted to hijack Flight 77 which would have made a total of 5 members. The remaining three assailants attempted the hijack but were overwhelmed by the courage and bravery of both pilots and the assistance of some of the passengers. The two men who were arrested after landing are reported as being Hani Hanjour and Salem al-Hazmi both of Saudi Arabia. The third assailant, Majed Moqed was pronounced dead at the scene from injuries sustained from the passenger revolt. The plane’s pilots, Captain Charles Burlingame, and his First Officer David Charlebois were both treated for minor injuries. Both men will most likely receive the highest recognition for their bravery and courage in regaining control of the aircraft and landing safely back on the ground.”
I had to stand up. I was feeling so cocksure when the program started, but I was not expecting a hijacking attempt; not from only a team of three men. Either they were incredibly stupid, or they were so committed to the plot that they were blinded by their conviction. I concluded that it was a hybrid of both.
I paced around in the living room, not knowing if I should be happy or sad or what. I clearly stopped the plot, but one almost slipped through the cracks. By this time, Keiko had finally snapped out of her slack-jawed catatonia and spoke to me.
“I think you should sit your ass down and explain to me what the fuck just happened.” I had never seen her this serious before. Of course, I obeyed like a good boy.
“Okay. Where do I start?”
“How about at the very beginning.”
“Well, Dan Rather pretty much gave the gist of it. These assholes were going to hijack a bunch of planes and crash them into the towers, the Pentagon, and the capitol building in DC. I tipped them off with repeated letters which allowed them to catch those two guys at the gym, and well, I did a little extra work on the side to make sure the other planes were safe.” I didn’t feel she needed to know what transpired last night up in Maine.
“What do you mean ‘a little extra work on the side’?”
“Look, that isn’t important. Why do you think I made you stay home today?” I was getting the feeling that she was somehow pissed about all of this. I had to make her see the good in it.
“One of those planes was going to crash in the building, wasn’t it? Does this have anything to do with that dream I have had so many times?” She was not looking at me but staring at some random spot as if she were trying to recall the dream and its details.
“Well, kind of. I can’t speak for any of the other stuff because obviously nothing happened. But I imagine if I hadn’t stepped in or done anything, well…I don’t even want to think about what would happen. The fact is, it didn’t. Aren’t you happy? I did this for you!”
“Of course I am glad it didn’t happen, but…I don’t know. I just feel weird that all of this was going on, and apparently, you were doing your own thing, and I had no clue whatsoever. It kind of makes me feel …almost lied to.”
“Babe, I didn’t lie to you. I may have held some things back, but never flat out lied to you.” This in itself was a lie. And I knew it.
“I don’t know, I am just shocked. I don’t know what I feel right now. It is just so much.” She sat back and faced directly ahead instead of looking at me now.
“I know it is a lot to absorb. I have been working on this for almost two years. And now it is finally over. I doubt they will try again since we know of their plan. The government has known for a while now but just hasn’t acted. Luckily my persistent letters had some effect.”
“How do you know all of this?” She asked as if she were slowly unraveling the truth.
“Look, let’s take this all one at a time. Okay? I promise I will explain everything to you, but it is just too much for right now. Soak up what you just saw on the news, and then I will go over the rest with you.”
“That guy you were living with. The Middle Eastern guy, I can’t remember his name. Was he a part of it too?”
“Ziad was his name. And yes. He was a part of it.”
“That is why you were down there for so long. To stop him.” Then he
r eyes suddenly widened. “Wait. Did you…kill him?”
I stood up as soon as she said the word kill. “No! No no no no no. I didn’t kill anybody. I promise. I don’t do that. The New Years thing was an accident. I refuse to kill. Those guys were okay with killing people, I’m not.”
“What did you do to him?”
“I convinced him that this little crusade of theirs was insane and he had a loving wife and family at home. It took a while, but I finally persuaded him to go back home and never come back.”
“Wow. You did that?”
“Yeah. Crazy, right? Just a few years ago I would barely speak to people I knew well, much less some guy hell-bent on killing a bunch of people, including himself.”
She was quiet for a moment, clearly beginning to understand and feel more at ease about it all. “Was Ziad the one who was going to crash into my building?”
“No, his plane was going to crash into the Capitol Building or the White House. Not a hundred percent positive on that one, but most likely the Capitol.”
“What happened to the guy who was going to hit my building?” She was now sounding intrigued rather than upset.
“I took care of him. You don’t need the details. And no, I didn’t kill him. He is just…out of commission.”
“What about the other guys?”
“That I don’t know. The guy who was going to hit your building, Mohamed Atta, he was their ringleader or boss. If I had to take a wild guess, it would be that since he was unable to get in contact with any of the other guys and give them all the order—thanks to yours truly—they probably chickened out and left. Well, all except for the overconfident idiots on that flight out of DC. Luckily, that one failed also.”