Fueling the Rage

by Jim Wilson

  He walked down the long corridor of the mall and could see the sign up tables ahead. There were over a one thousand people trying to sign up and two hundred or more had completed the process. The completed group pinned their number to their tee shirts. It was raining, so this group was waiting inside the mall, and standing together talking just past the sign up tables. Bill went to the nearest end of the table marked “ABC” and gave the volunteer his name. At the other end of his table there were four runners standing close together while a slower volunteer was looking for their numbers. As he was signing his name, he saw Mo and Ike in the heart of the now larger crowd of runners that had their numbers. It was warm and everyone was wearing running shorts and a tee shirt, but they had on their letter jackets. Bill waved to them.

  Then Mo yelled, “William!” He only used this name when he was being dramatic. Followed by, “Allah Akbar!”

  Ike then yelled the following to Bill, but in Arabic, “I will see you in Paradise.” Ike then went farther down the corridor and turned left into the walkway to the restrooms.

  Somewhere deep within Bill’s chest, panic grew and he knew what Mo was about to do. He tried to think of something to do to stop him, but he was too far away for any action. All he could do was to start screaming, “Get down!”

  Mo was in the center of over two hundred and fifty runners. It was still raining softly, and more had gathered near him. They were staying dry and waiting for the call to start the race. Mo cherished the moment and the large crowd that would give extra value to his death. He raised his right arm and simply disappeared into a cloud of deadly pieces of metal. Bill bent forward, lowered his head and covered his face with his arms. This was his only act of self-protection. People, tables, chairs and debris of all sorts lifted into the air like leaves blown by the wind, but this wind was a fire cloud full of deadly projectiles. Bill and everything in front of him became airborne. His body snapped straight up to a standing position, and his feet lifted two feet off the ground. His arms forced outward and his body flung backward by explosion.

  Fifteen feet behind him was a booth that sold cell phones. A massive support beam anchored its position. His back smashed into the booth. The metal box that held the names of the runners at his table then pounded into his chest, followed by his sign up table and the unlucky people that were at the other end before the explosion. It was over in an instant. There were alarms coming from all directions. All of the lights were out, and Bill could neither breathe nor move. Emergency lights came on and the table and bodies were still holding him in a standing position with his back against the booth.

  Then from deep within his chest, he began to take short gasps, his mind returned from his dream state, his vision returned and started to clear. He was facing the carnage and as far as he could see, there were bodies. They each formed a pattern, a strange S shape against the mall floor. Then some of the shapes started to move and make noise. Cries of pain competed with the sound of the alarms. Dark shadows of blood slowly formed around the bodies.

  From the hallway behind him, a mall security guard was the first to run to the center of the scene. Then police, firefighters, and even an ambulance found a way to enter the corridor. He saw Mira with an EMT at her side running towards the devastation. Carnage and bodies were everywhere. They hesitated for a few seconds about fifteen feet from him, but they did not see him. After a few words, they headed for the center of the slaughter. Then Bill saw Ike appear from the restroom walkway in his USF letter jacket. He thought, maybe he changed his mind. Mira also saw Ike and they headed for each other. Bill could not warn her, and he saw the future as Mira and Ike hugged.

  Even with all the noise, Bill still heard Ike’s last words, “Allah Akbar!”

  There was no slow motion this time. He tumbled to the floor, covered by tables, bodies, and parts of the dislodged roof that was once above him. His mind went to other places. Even after he lost consciousness, somehow he was still thinking of Mo, Ike, and the certain death of his sister. His lungs were automatically taking in gasps of air, but not enough for him to survive. With every minute that passed, less and less oxygen was reaching his brain, and his life was slowly slipping away.

  After the second explosion, authorities learned their lesson. This time the arriving police officers formed outside of the mall and took fifteen minutes to develop a plan. A well-armed small group of officers cautiously entered the site of the explosion and inspected the area. They called additional officers to guard positions at all possible entrances surrounding the site of the damage. With weapons drawn, they were prepared to stop any additional attackers before they could reach the rescue workers. They developed longer-range plans that involved fully armed troops from Mac Dill Air Force Base. The governor of Florida dispatched troops to all of the major malls of the state. A national directive alerted the State National Guard of a possible activation in case of additional attacks. All the surrounding hospitals implemented often-practiced emergency medical disaster plans.

  Bill was unconscious, as George, an EMT, pulled him from the debris. Few times in your life are others in charge of your very breath. Trapped around Bill’s lungs were broken ribs and George shared his breath with Bill. At first, George filled Bill’s lungs using mouth-to-mouth resuscitation and then with an intubation kit, that another EMT tossed him. He thought, there are so many, stay focused. I am going to save this life. He inserted the tube down Bill’s windpipe and squeezed a soft bag to force air into his lungs. With his right hand, George squeezed the bag until his hand was too tired to move and then he changed hands. He waited and squeezed until they put Bill in an ambulance and George squeezed more as they headed to the hospital. As they rolled the gurney from the ambulance to the emergency room, he still squeezed the bag.

  Finally, they lifted Bill onto a bed in the ER and a VA nurse gently touched George’s hand, “We have him now, George.”

  “Will he make it?”

  An older doctor answered, “You saved him George.” George nodded approvingly and went back for more.

  They removed Bill’s clothing, placed them in a special numbered container, and wrote the number onto his right shoulder with a black marker. As soon as he was stable, they identified him from his driver’s license as William Crane. The hospital printed an identification bracelet with his name and number, placed it on his wrist, and drew a black line through the number on his shoulder. A nurse that also worked at UMC looked at his wristband, “My God, it’s Bill Crane. I’ll call his mother.”

  Alice heard the news and was accustomed to moving fast. She finished stabilizing the patient that she was working on and said to the doctor working near her, “My son was injured and he’s at the VA.” She did not yet know about Mira.

  “We have it here, go!”

  “Will someone tell Brian?”

  A nurse yelled, “I will.”

  Alice used a special corridor that ran under the busy road that separated the hospitals. Five minutes later, she was at Bill’s bedside. She arranged to have him moved to UMC. He will recover and it will be just as if it never happened. He would recover, but he would change.

  Within a few minutes, local news stations reported the explosions and alerted their national affiliates. The story of the Tampa mall bombing took over the entire output of all the cable news channels. As the information became clearer, they broadcasted it to the world. By 10 o’clock that evening, all the networks announced the same casualty figure. There were 221 dead, 254 seriously wounded, and hundreds of walking wounded.

  *****

  In Paris, several men sat together in a small room and watched the news of the Tampa bombing on BBC. When they heard the dead and wounded summary, they applauded. One man stood and reviewed their project. “It took us four years to complete this attack. The Muslim Faith Society spent one million Euros, and there were at least 475 dead and wounded. That means it cost only 2,105 Euros per casualty. If we can do this in three or four cities, Americans will be afraid to spend their money
. My brothers, we have found their weakness, Allah Akbar.”

  When enemies lie as friends in cast

  The body heals in time once more

  To erase the memories of the past

  And let in sleeping dogs of war

  Chapter 2

  Just as in Africa, in Florida life and death had great value. The final count was 256 dead and there was sad work to come. For a week, there was an almost never-ending parade of funerals. The Tampa area lost the most people, but USF draws students from all over the United States. The State of Florida did everything possible to assist distant loved ones and the State Department eliminated the transportation paperwork. Hillsborough County and The City of Tampa raised the money to pay for the medical costs of foreign students, and the transportation cost of the bodies back to their families.

  The university was a friendly place for foreign students. Many were from Islamic countries, but the Student Union was no longer a warm and welcoming setting for them. Some of the Islamic students changed the way they dressed and many stopped using their first names and replaced them with common American names. Most of the Muslim students felt sorry for the injured and dead, but they had very strong beliefs. A fraternity and a sorority became their new gathering points. Muslim students demanded and received isolated campus housing, guarded by armed campus police. The once open Muslim community now incorporated undercover FBI agents in their fraternity, sorority, and campus housing. For the agents it would be a long-term project, and included the benefit of earning a master’s or doctorate degree during working hours.

  The powers that arranged this act wanted to spread fear, but they also received overt anger. Anger takes energy and after the dead was laid to rest, overt anger turned to a hidden anger, a quiet rage. Brian, Alice, and many others had this quiet rage, but Bill would harbor overt anger for years. Only revenge could satisfy his anger. It would take a while, but he would act. Initially, it would be brutal government sanctioned revenge, and later it would become the revenge of a trained killer. Each of his actions would spawn a new action. Both his victories and defeats would fuel his rage.

  Three days after the bombing, both his parents stood over Bill. His chest healed nicely. Alice removed his breathing tube and they smiled that he was able to breathe on his own. They reduced his medications, and a few minutes later, he opened his eyes to see his parents.

  His lips moved, “Mira’s dead. Ike killed her.”

  “We know. We buried her today.”

  They were glad he was back, and his mother bent over and kissed his cheek. A few tears fell from her eyes onto his forehead.

  Usually the random thoughts of unconsciousness disappear like a vapor. Normally what makes perfect sense when you are asleep means nothing moments after you are awake. Maybe it was his memory, maybe something else, but his mind had been planning. His plans were real, and he would follow them. He loved his Grandfather, and fondly remembered the many times they would all go to his little home in Key West, Florida. He loved to listen to his grandfather’s stories of his Navy adventures. As a young sailor, he joined a group called the Underwater Demolition Team. Years later, the UDT changed its name to the Navy Seals. Bill clearly remembered his plan, and becoming a Seal was his first step.

  “I decided not to go to medical school next fall. I’m going to join the Navy.”

  His parents saw something in his eyes and there were no arguments, no hesitation. Brian and Alice still had dirt on their shoes from Mira’s fresh grave.

  “If that’s what you want then I’ll take you there myself,” his father said. Alice nodded in agreement.

  Two days later, they released Bill from the hospital. The next day was Wednesday and his father was off work. Joining the Navy was something you normally did alone or with a friend, but with his injuries, he needed his father’s help. At 10 o’clock, they arrived at a small strip mall in Wesley Chapel, Florida. There were four offices: Army, Navy, Air Force, and Marines. His father opened the door to the Navy recruiting office, and Bill slowly followed behind him. There were three desks with chairs on both sides. A Chief and two Petty Officers were watching Bill’s entry. The Chief could tell that his potential recruit was having trouble walking. He offered the young man a shoulder and helped him to the chair at his desk.

  “You were injured in the Tampa Mall bombing.”

  Bill was now standing as straight as possible, “That’s right, and I want to be a Seal.”

  The Chief noticed that his potential recruit was a good three inches taller and forty pounds heavier than he was. He closed the distance between them to about two inches nose to nose and whispered, “It shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “I’m a doctor. He’s going to be just fine.”

  “It’s not easy to qualify and we need to get you able to run.”

  “Like you said, it isn’t going to be a problem.”

  The Chief had lost a close friend in the bombing, and wanted to say something about it, but he held back his comments. “Maybe you’re right. I have a few tests that you need to take.”

  Bill’s father turned to leave, “Call me when you need me to pick you up.”

  After the basic interview, the Chief told Bill that he would qualify for Officer Training. He could be a Seal, but the risk was that if he washed out of OTC, he was still in the Navy for four years.

  “You need to qualify just to enter the Seal training, and if you don’t, you’re still in the Navy.”

  “Give me your test.”

  The Chief spent about twenty minutes completing the interview paperwork and scanned it into his computer. He took Bill to a small booth where he took a personality test. The Chief took the answer sheet and scanned it into his computer. The computer printed a second test based upon the interview and the answers of the first test. A cover sheet gave instructions on how to administer the test. It was a more or less a standard aptitude test, but it had twenty-five extra questions. Normally the test is thirty minutes long, but Bill’s test allowed forty-five minutes. The answer sheet scanned and a new instruction sheet printed, but this time no test was printed.

  The Chief read the cover sheet aloud, “The following document requires a top-secret clearance to continue printing.”

  It listed a phone number to call. I have never seen this before, thought the Chief. He called the number, and after a short conversation, he received specific instructions. He reviewed them in his mind. I go next door and get an Air Force puke named Gomez and he does the test. Gomez was an electronics technician with a broken leg, assigned to recruiting duty until he regained his full duty status.

  Gomez gave Bill the test, and when he was finished, he scanned the answer sheet. A new document was printed and he followed its instructions. It ordered Gomez to collect everything that had anything to do with this new recruit and run it through the shredder. He then entered a six-digit number from the written instructions. Standing over the printer were Gomez, three sailors, and the Chief reading the cover sheet aloud. “The following document requires a top-secret clearance to continue printing.”

  The sailors left the area, and Gomez printed the cover sheet. It had a new phone number for him to call. Gomez called the number and a voice answered. ”Shred everything and wait for an officer to arrive.”

  One hour later, a standard blue Air Force car arrived. A driver, a Major, and a two star General walked into the office and the recruiters snapped to attention. The Major was the first to speak, “We’re here about Crane.”

  The Chief did not want to lose his new recruit and said, “Sir, he came to the Navy.”

  The Major continued, “He’ll be in the Navy, but we have some special procedures we need to follow in this case. Chief, would you please honor us by giving him his oath?” Bill Crane completed the oath, and signed his name to the appropriate documents.

  The Major and the driver then helped the new Navy sailor into the back seat of the car. The General took down the four recruiters’ service numbers and gave them group ins
truction. The four service men, under the threat of harsh military punishment agreed never to say a word about what had just happened.

  Mac Dill Air Force Base is on the south side of Tampa, and the traffic was building towards rush hour. As they left the office, they instructed Bill to relax and enjoy the ride. It took the driver almost an hour before they passed through the main gate of Mac Dill. Their destination was Building Six and it was about a mile drive after passing the gate. They reached the building, and drove into an underground garage. The driver dropped his three passengers at a door marked Authorized Personnel Only. The General left them to meet with the company responsible for testing.

  The Major looked at Bill and told him to call his family, “Tell them you won’t be home for at least a month. Use the phone in this office.” Bill agreed with a nod.

  “Sailor, you’re in the Navy, and when you are addressing an officer, you will say, Sir.”

  “Yes Sir.”

  He made a short call and his parents understood, but it would be eight months before he would again see his home. The Major called his Sergeant to assist his new charge.

  “I have some tests you need to take, but first, this is Sergeant McCurdy. Sergeant feed this sailor and no conversations except about food and bodily functions, and do not let him leave Building Six.

  The Sergeant instructed, “This way, Sir. It’s not far.”

  While Bill was gone, the tests were set up. A small recruiting company that filled a very special need with a special person developed them. They worried that their specifications were too tight. They did not have a single hit in the first year of the project. If Crane was a real match then they could adjust the tests for obtaining the needed number of candidates. Because of Crane’s present condition the consultants also recommended resting him, and to start testing tomorrow morning.