An Act Of Terrorism

[Note:  This is not intended as any sort of inspiration, or how to guide.  It’s sole purpose is to point out what I perceive as a vulnerable point in the typical airport’s security.]

    For a moment, he considered using the month long parking area to park his car.  It wasn’t like he needed to save money.  Not after today.  But still, it would be wasteful, and there was no need for that, better to park his car in the regular parking area.

    He had second thoughts about parking in the regular lot, when he had to drive through it twice to find a parking space, but eventually someone pulled out and he was able to park.  He left a letter in the seat of the car as he left, something for the authorities to find just in case it was not totally clear why he was taking this action.

    He was already wearing his vest and coat, but he put on his backpack, and began the slow walk from the parking lot to the airport terminal.  He already had his airline ticket, and anyone would simply think the backpack was his carryon luggage.

    His mind was a blank as he made the long walk.  He didn’t even think about his name.  His life had no value to anyone, except through death.  Dying for a cause, he felt, was the only thing that could redeem him.

    Once he reached the airport terminal, his only worry was the possibility of dogs.  If there were any police or security patrolling the airport terminal with any dogs he couldn’t see them through the mass of people.

    He timed his visit perfectly.  Crowds of people were everywhere; standing in lines to purchase tickets and check their luggage at the counters for the different airlines.  Families, with children in tow, moved from one section to the next trying to figure out where they needed to go.

    The next stop for everyone was the security checkpoint that separated the public section of the airport from the section that was only open to people with tickets, where they would board, change planes, and eat in overpriced restaurants, and buy duty free souvenirs.

    Remember to arrive at least an hour early in case of airline delays, he thought to himself as he joined the mass of impatient people as they cued up into the long lines to go through the security check point.  It looked like a standard checkpoint, with full body metal detectors and luggage x-ray machines, and uniformed security members who monitored the equipment, and intimidated the crowds into staying in line, and performing more detailed searches if one of the scanners picked anything up.

    The would be airline passengers obeyed like sheep, laying their carryon luggage onto the conveyor belts.  They removed their shoes, belts, cell phones and anything they had in their pockets and placed them in bowls that followed their luggage through the scanner.  The experienced travelers were prepared and already had most of their stuff in their carryon luggage so they only had a small handful of change to place in the cups, along with easily removed shoes.

    None of that security would do them any good.

    He did not know how much of an explosion  the explosives in his vest would make.  They just assured him it would be a big one, and that the trigger would work.  He didn’t want to be one of those idiots who were caught trying to detonate their explosives with a match.  Seriously, if you are that desperate to blow yourself up, at least do it in the airplane restroom where the other passengers cannot tell what you are doing.

    Nothing about his face betrayed him as he waited patiently in the security check point line.  His entire life had been a lie hidden under a false smile.  There was no way he was going to let realty show through this close to.

    Just a little closer.  Behind him was a businessman who was completely absorbed in his cell phone.  To his left was a family of four, the kids were already annoying each other.  Who knew how badly they would behave on a prolonged flight.  Just ahead of him was a woman in a wheelchair who would need special attention from security to make it past the metal detectors.

    He was there to make a statement.  Show how vulnerable the country was, and as a suicide bomber, no one could hope to stop him.  He would show those fat cats who could afford to fly for pleasure and business how foolish their lifestyles were.  Teach the parents of those annoying kids a lesson in the process, or at least spare the other passengers on their flight the annoyance of having to put up with them.  But then, he supposed, in just a few moments, all the flight to and from this airport would be stopped… for security reasons.

    He was only three people away from the metal detectors now.  Surely most of the security officers would be in range with him being this close, to say nothing of the annoying would-be passengers that surrounded him.

    With a practiced, natural motion, he reached into his jacket pocket, as if he were looking for a Kleenex.  His fingers gripped reassuringly around the trigger he had concealed there.

    He didn’t know what would happen when he pressed the button, if death would be sudden and painless, or if he would feel the pain as the explosives burned and ripped his body apart, even as it was killing everyone around him.  Would he be redeemed by his act of self sacrifice and go to heaven, or was he truly condemned to a Hell that couldn’t possibly be worse than how he felt every day of his life.  If not heave, maybe he hoped that there was nothing beyond life except for a comforting void.

    One of the security agents looked up from his terminal, and looked him in the eyes.

    He met his fate, and pressed the button.