Carnage

(Attention to detail is important when planning a terrorist strike)
 
‘You have done well to obtain the minister’s schedule Ahmed, now pay attention, this is the mobile phone that will cause the detonation, first you must take it to work and test for a strong signal.’
 
‘I’m sure it will be fine, Muszra.’
 
‘Check it anyway, attention to detail at all times Ahmed. When you plant the device first switch on the phone, only when it is up and running will you throw this arming switch, OK?  Once the switch is thrown it cannot be switched off without detonating the explosives.’
 
‘I understand Muszra, though I would be willing to detonate it personally and enter paradise.’
 
'Your zeal is noted Ahmed but we have other work for you. Engineers with your skills can gain entry to many places and we have other targets. Be patient.’
 
Ahmed examined his toolbox ‘it fits so well Muszra, very precise and I still have room for my tools on top.’
 
Muszra Wazir smiled grimly ‘when it is complete there will also be five kilos of ball bearing to increase the effect. The carnage will be great.’
                                                        *****
John Patchett, chief maintenance engineer at Aircol Max Plc regarded his protégé with admiration. Ahmed was quick to learn, an instinctive engineer. His beloved machines would be in good hands when he retired. The gentle old man had learned to accept Ahmed’s peculiarities like his insistence on taking his tools home every night, of sitting on the toolbox to eat at lunch and break time, snubbing the works canteen.
 
‘In my country’ Ahmed had explained ‘if a man lost his tools he would have no means to support his family. It would be a terrible disaster’ he shrugged ‘here in the West you are rich and can replace such losses easily, some of my spanners I inherited from my father.’
 
‘I wish you were as conscientious at keeping up the service and repair logs Ahmed, you have a whole batch to bring up to date.’
 
‘I’m sorry John, I will catch up by the weekend, I promise.’
 
Ahmed drove a dilapidated old car even though he could have afforded a much better one. ‘It’s a good car, only the door locks do not work. Who would steal such a car anyway?’ he had said when John remarked on it one day. John had not mentioned the car again considering it just another Ahmed idiosyncrasy.  
 
John brought him an old cushion from home to put atop the metal toolbox for some added comfort. Ahmed couldn’t understand John’s attitude, such kindnesses were alien to him. Why did the old fool keep doing him favours? He disliked that aspect of him but grudgingly admitted to himself the old boy was a first rate engineer. He never shirked getting down under machines, either; never using his age as an excuse to push work onto him.  
 
‘Right, Ahmed, we’ve been given the task of building a platform for the opening of the new wing and installing the speaker system.’
 
Aircol Max Plc had recently made a breakthrough in the fuel systems of jet engines making them run cleaner by almost 10% and for minimal cost, too. Such was the potential that the new extension had been built to accommodate this development. It was to be opened by the government’s environmental minister herself. This was a chance Ahmed and his group could not ignore. The opportunity to assassinate a government minister and several dignitaries as well as up to two hundred highly skilled engineers could not be passed up.
 
The company supplied the civil aviation industry. It had no political or military affiliations. This would be just another routine job for the Minister Ms Sally Goldsworthy. She did around thirty of this type of ceremony every year. Nothing about it was controversial; there was no particular security threat and no grounds for anyone in high places to worry. It was just uncomplicated every day ministerial work.
 
Ms Goldsworthy had insisted on the minimum of fuss for her visit. She would arrive at eleven forty-five, meet the directors and senior staff then proceed to the new department. There she would make a short speech then uncover the wall plaque declaring the new wing open. After a light lunch in the boardroom, she would depart no later than twelve thirty. Her aides had called weeks before to discuss such things as security, lunch menus, toilet facilities and other nitty-gritty details that accompanied ministerial visits. Everything had been thrashed out to the satisfaction of her team.
 
‘We will have to build the platform at least two feet high John I’ve checked and the minister is only five foot one inch tall.’
 
John was impressed ‘that’s great research Ahmed, well done. By the way, have you completed those maintenance logs yet?’
 
‘Soon, John, I promise.’
 
‘It will need to be Ahmed, the general manager was asking about them earlier. I can’t keep putting him off. You really need to pay more attention to these details.’
 
Their work progressed well, two small steps and a hand rail were built and Ahmed brought some blue velvet cloth to skirt the platform’s base. It looked a very professional job.
 
At home Ahmed watched the bomb maker going about his business with cool efficiency. The bomb consisted of five kilos of Semtex1A, the most powerful of commercial explosives. The toolbox was lined with half inch ball bearings. The device was designed to cause the greatest damage possible. In the confines of the foyer of the new extension that would surely be achieved.  
 
Ahmed knew no one would suspect the maintenance engineers going about their business. He would leave the toolbox under the platform at the last minute. The minister would be standing right above it to make her speech.  
 
Wazir finally finished, replacing the tray of tools on top. Once more it looked like an engineer’s toolbox.
 
Ahmed knew John was very conscientious and would stay with him throughout the installation of the PA system. He had sabotaged a machine in the main workshop by over tightening a bearing. He knew it was a machine John loved to work on. Ahmed should be left alone in the new foyer for at least a few minutes and that was all he needed. If not he had another plan.
 
Abdul Azziz was the team’s leader in the bomb plot. He was the quartermaster, the man who supplied the bomb materials and the false passports they would use afterwards. The flights were booked, all was ready. Ahmed had informed the company that he had a dental appointment on that afternoon and would miss the grand opening.
 
The next day was it. John and Ahmed set up the microphone and rigged it to the speakers, tested it and did one or two other jobs. The Minister’s security man came around and checked the room. He looked under the platform using a torch. He then went through the doors of the new wing, doing more checks. Satisfied, he left leaving the two engineers tidying up wires.
 
John couldn’t help noticing Ahmed was very nervous ‘What’s the matter, Ahmed?’  
 
‘Oh, It’s my dental appointment this afternoon, John’ he answered ‘I really hate going to the dentist, it terrifies me.’
 
John was sympathetic and made some kind remarks. As the time for the visit got nearer they gave the microphone system one last test. Ahmed’s nervousness seemed to be increasing by the minute, surely that bearing must have burnt out by now? He had foreseen the possibility of having to kill John, there could be no blood spilt to cause questions. Both John and the bomb would fit under the platform. He reached into his pocket for a wire garrote and moved behind the older man.  
 
John’s phone rang. ‘Yes? Oh, I see, I’ll be right along, he turned to Ahmed ‘I have to go mate the big milling machine’s playing up again.’  
 
Ahmed breathed a sigh of relief. Once alone he quickly armed the device then pushed his toolbox under the platform.  
 
Walking through the factory he bumped into the Mark Dutton the general manager who needed answers to some routine questions. He was also carrying a bunch of maintenance logs Ahmed recognised as his. ‘I’ll need these signing before you go anywhere Ahmed, my office now please.’
 
‘I’m sorry Mark, but I have a dental appointment,  they’ll get upset if I’m late.’
 
Dutton was having none of it ‘It’ll take just a few minutes Ahmed and I must insist that in future you pay more attention to these things.’  Ahmed reluctantly complied he still had a few minutes in hand.
 
Hurrying to his car Ahmed drove to the rendezvous on a hill a quarter mile away that overlooked the factory. The lane was deserted because it led nowhere, the farmhouse it once served had long been demolished. It was one of those desolate places used by fly-tippers and prostitutes who brought clients there after dark.
 
Ahmed was first there despite his delay and checking his watch saw that he was still a minute early. The others arrived on time and drove up behind him.  
 
Getting out of his car Ahmed went and sat in the back of the BMW driven by Abdul Azziz. ‘All set?’ Azziz asked.  
 
‘Yes,’ Ahmed replied ‘I paid full attention to every detail.’
 
Azziz lit a cigarette and sat silently holding a phone in his left hand he closed his eyes and drew smoke deeply into his lungs then he slowly exhaled. ‘To you, Ahmed must go the ultimate honour of detonating the device’ he said solemnly ‘this is your first operation and you have done well my friend.’  
 
Azziz looked through powerful binoculars ‘OK’ he hissed, ‘the official cars are arriving now.’  
 
He took the Minister’s schedule from his pocket and read it for the tenth time ‘eight minutes to meet and greet’ he said, his voice cold and steady ‘then one minute to walk to the new building followed by a seven minute speech to the workers so that’s twelve minutes to detonation, right in the middle of her speech’ he smirked and drew on the cigarette again. He was enjoying himself.
 
In the back of the car, Ahmed was deep in thought. It was right, he believed, that the infidel should be taught a lesson in blood but he hoped John would stay with his machine and not attend the opening. Despite his beliefs, Ahmed found he had grown fond of the old man.  
 
‘One minute’ the voice of Azziz cut through his thoughts and he was handed the phone. ‘Bring up contacts’ Azziz ordered ‘Select Prayers and await my command.’
 
Ahmed took the phone, his hands trembling slightly. ‘Wait..wait..’ said Azziz looking at his watch. Time seemed to stand still for Ahmed. In the front passenger seat, Wazir sat rocking back and forth, praying under his breath a fixed stare in his eyes.  
 
‘Now’ Barked Azziz and Ahmed brought his thumb down on the dialling button.  
 
He heard the phone beep beeping out the number, a slight pause then the phone made its connection. The bomb detonated with its full lethal effect.
 
John rang Ahmed’s number, the phone went straight to voicemail. Thinking he must still be at the dentist's he left a message. ‘Hi Ahmed listen, mate, I left my glasses on the platform and when I went back for them I saw some tape you used had come unstuck on those microphone wires. When I bent down to replace it I noticed you’d left your toolbox under the platform so I took it to the car park. I couldn’t find you so I popped it in your car boot old son so don’t fret when you remember it, ok?’ John’s voice took on a humorous note ‘That dentist must really have got to you rattled pal, I’ve never known overlook a small detail like your toolbox before.’