Bang on Time

For over a year now Ahmed had been working as a maintenance engineer at Aircol and Max a small but important aero engine research firm. He was good at his job and never gave anyone cause for complaint or suspicion. He attended his mosque regularly and seemed a very serious devout young man. No one outside his small radical group had the slightest inkling of his deadly plan to strike a blow for jihad. His group had been looking for a suitable target for months and now Allah had sent a target straight to them.

Ahmed worked with old John and, at first, disliked him intensely he was in his view a typical old fashioned Christian of little worth. Yet he tolerated him, put up with his slightly eccentric ways and the fact that he always seemed on the look out to do him little kindnesses like staying behind to finish a job so he could get away on time. For some reason these little acts of kindness irritated him immensely all the more so because he dare not show his annoyance.

Ahmed never went to the canteen for lunch but sat on his toolbox in a corner of the workshop eating sparingly of the food he brought from home. After he’d finished his meal Ahmed read some verses from the Koran ignoring all around him until it was time to restart work. John had brought him a small cushion from home to make the toolbox more comfortable.  Why did he do it? Ahmed wondered, he had not been particularly friendly towards him. Ok he’d been civil but that was part of the job and that wouldn’t be for much longer and then all would be avenged.  Above all he must not raise the suspicions of the people he worked with at this late stage in the operation so he had thanked John and made sure he usd the cushion.

A&M had recently made a breakthrough in the fuel systems of jet engines making them run cleaner by almost 10% and for a minimal cost too. Such was the potential that the new extension built to accommodate this development was being opened by none other than the government’s environmental minister herself; this was the chance Ahmed and his friends had been waiting for. The opportunity to kill a government minister as well as up to two hundred highly skilled engineers was one they could not pass up; it was perfect in almost every way.

The company supplied mostly the civil aviation industry it had no political affiliations and was not a major employer. This would be just another routine job for the minister who did almost a hundred of this type of ceremony a year nothing controversial, no particular security threat and no grounds for anyone in high places to worry.

Old John was a man approaching retirement. At sixty-four and a widower he had spent all his working life as an engineer, for the last three years he had been in charge of maintaining the lathes drills and assorted machinery in the A&M workshops. It was the kind of hands-on work he loved as no two problems were ever the same.  Just over a year previously he had been called into the office to be told he was getting an assistant to train up so the firm would have continuity when he retired. When Ahmed had turned up that first Monday morning John had had some misgivings not because of Ahmed’s Asian origins but because the fellow hardly spoke. John soon discovered however that Ahmed was a skilled engineer who picked things up quickly and was not afraid of hard work or of getting his hands dirty.

John, a gregarious man, had tried to befriend Ahmed but it had been a slow process. Ahmed had his ways and rituals which he kept to rigidly like always eating on his own perched atop his toolbox. Every evening he put his toolbox into the boot of his car always taking it home. John had told him the workshop was secure and that there was no need to carry his heavy box home every night.

Ahmed had insisted he must and John let the matter drop. He supposed it was because Ahmed had grown up in a very different society where, if one were to lose one’s tools then the means of earning a living was lost with them. On one occasion when Ahmed’s ancient car had been in for service John had given him a lift home. He lived with two other single men in an end terraced house in a modest street not too far from where he himself lived so dropping him off was no problem. Little did he know that the two other men were co-conspirators in a deadly plot in which he himself would unwittingly play a significant part.

The minister of the Environment, one Ms Sally Goldsworthy, had insisted that the minimum of fuss be made for her official visit. She would simply turn up at eleven forty five, meet the directors and senior staff then proceed to the new department, make a short speech then uncover the wall plaque and declare the new wing open.  After a light lunch with the directors in the board room, she would depart no later than twelve thirty. Her aides had called the week before to discuss such things as security, lunch menus even toilet facilities and a lot of other nitty-gritty details that always accompany such a visit. Everything had been thrashed out to the satisfaction of her team and so all was set.

At home Ahmed watched the bomb maker going about his work. Ibrahim had been trained by the best Al Qaeda bomb makers and he worked with a cool efficiency. Five kilos of PE 808 a military plastic explosive that wasn’t the latest or most powerful explosive but, because of that, was somewhat easier to obtain. The toolbox had been lined with ball bearings filched from the firm itself over many months so as not to attract attention. The whole device was designed to cause the greatest carnage possible and in the foyer of the new extension with around two hundred engineers packed in that would surely be achieved.

No one would have reason to suspect the maintenance engineer going about his business. He would leave the toolbox under the plinth at the last minute, the minister would be standing right above it to conduct the ceremony and make her speech. He and John had of course been involved with installing new machinery in the extension and had free access to come and go as they pleased. Ahmed watched with satisfaction as Ibrahim finished, instructed him on arming the device and the put the tray of tools neatly on top. Once more it took on the appearance of an engineer’s toolbox.

Ahmed received his instructions he was to plant the bomb then phone when this had been achieved to confirm that all was well.  Once he had confirmed to Azziz that the device was armed and in position he would then leave and go to the rendezvous.

Things had not been left to chance by Ahmed he knew John was a very conscientious worker and would stay with him throughout the installation of the public address system. He had arranged for a machine to break down in the main workshop by cleverly doctoring a bearing. He knew it was a machine John loved to work on and had been nursing for some weeks so Ahmed would be left alone in the new foyer for at least a few minutes and that’s all he needed. May Allah bless conscientious John he thought sarcastically.

Abdul Azziz was the third man involved in the bomb plot he was the quartermaster, the fixer the man who supplied the explosives and the false passports they would use to leave the country that very afternoon. The flights had been booked the cases packed and all was ready. Ahmed had informed the company that he has a dental appointment that afternoon and would, unfortunately, have to miss the grand opening.

Ahmed was in the habit of parking his old Ford as near to the works door as he could get then take the keys from the car and just leave it to walk in carrying his toolbox. John asked once why he never locked it. “Because it’s an old car and this is a secure car park, if anyone were silly enough to break into it they would do more damage than the car is worth.”  He explained that he never left anything of value in it anyway and locking it necessitated pushing the key in the stiff old lock and turning. “No posh key fobs like yours John” he had smiled.

John was a little puzzled as to why the man had such an old car anyway as he was earning good money and could have afforded much better however he considered it none of his business so never mentioned it. The truth was the car had been bought for him for cash and it was registered at a false address.

It was now  the day of the minister’s visit John and Ahmed set up the microphone and rigged it to the speakers, tested it and did one or two other jobs like putting a curtain around the front and sides of the temporary plinth to give it a neat appearance and making sure all was ready. After that a security man had come around checked the room he looked under the plinth flashing a torch for a couple of seconds. He then went through the door of the new wing and did some more checks. Seemingly satisfied he wandered off leaving the two engineers tidying up the wires.

John couldn’t help but notice that Ahmed was rather nervous and asked what the matter was. “Oh I’ve a dental appointment this afternoon John” Ahmed had said “I really hate going to the dentist, always have done.”

John had been sympathetic and made a few kind remarks. As the time for the visit got nearer they gave the microphone system one last test then Ahmed told John he needed to go to the toilet and then he really must get off to the dentist as otherwise he would be late. His nervousness seemed to be increasing by the minute surely that bearing would have burnt out by now?

John was quite worried he’d never seem Ahmed so on edge before but just then his mobile phone rang and John answered it. “Yes? Oh I see I’ll be right along, see you in a minute.” And with that he turned to Ahmed “I have to go mate the big milling machine’s gone funny again” and with that he walked briskly off.

Once in the toilet Ahmed looked around and made sure he was quite alone then phoned his co-conspirators.  “All set” he told them “I’ll give it a couple of minutes in here to make the visit look genuine then I’ll come and meet you.”  

"Ok" Azziz said "you made sure you switched on the telephone yeah?”  

“Of course I switched the phone on my brother what do you take me for?” Ahmed was annoyed ok so it was his first operation did they take him for a damn fool? True he was nervous but not that nervous and his planning and execution thus far had been flawless.

Ahmed held his nerve, checked his watch then flushed the toilet washed his hands and left as casually as he could. To his annoyance he bumped into the workshop foreman who needed answers to some routine questions. The man was another like John who tried to engage him in social talk as well as deal with the matters in hand. Ahmed, after supplying the answers to the man’s questions, looked at his watch and cut the foreman short “I’m awfully sorry but I have a dental appointment and they’ll get upset if I’m late.” And with that he walked off cursing in his mind at the delay.

In the car park his car started first time and he drove to the hill about half a mile away that over looked the factory. The lane was deserted at this time of day because it led nowhere, the farmhouse it once served had long been demolished. It was one of those places streetwalkers brought their clients to after dark, a lost and lonely place.  He was first there despite his delay and checking his watch saw that he was still a minute early. Better than being late he told himself.

Bang on time the others arrived and drove up tight behind him. Ahmed got out of the car and went to sit in the back of the old BMW driven by Abdul Azziz. “All set?” Abdul asked and Ahmed just nodded in reply and turned to look at the factory below.

Azziz lit a cigarette and sat silently holding a mobile phone in his left hand he closed his eyes and drew on the cigarette deeply then slowly exhaled. “To you Ahmed must go the ultimate honour of detonating the device” he said with great solemnity “this is your first operation and you have done well my brother.”

Azziz looked through powerful binoculars “OK” he hissed talking as much to himself as the other two the official cars are going in now. He took a piece of paper out of his pocket and read it for the tenth time. “Seven minutes to meet and greet “he said, his voice cold and steady then two minutes to walk to the new building followed by a seven minute speech 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 secretly hoped old John stayed mending his beloved machine and did not attend the speech. In spite of himself Ahmed had grown to have a grudging respect for the older man. For a start he was, like mimself, a first class engineer and a good worker. If the need was to get down under a machine he would do so unhesitatingly never once did he plead age and send Ahmed down into the awkward corners. Always John was easy going and Ahmed had learned a lot of practical stuff working with him. May Allah protect you John he thought but the job must be done.

“One minute” the voice of Azziz cut through his thoughts he was handed the phone. “Bring up contacts” Azziz ordered “Select 'Allah Akbar' and await my command.” Ahmed took the phone his hands trembling slightly and did as he was told. “Wait..wait..” said Azziz looking at his watch. Time seemed to stand still for Ahmed. In the front passenger seat Ibrahim the bomb maker sat rocking back and forth a fixed stare on his face. He was softly chanting over and over Allah Akbar, Allah Akbar....

“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 and the bomb detonated with devastating effect.

John finished mending the machine and remembered he had to ring Ahmed. He rang the number and Ahmed’s phone went straight to answer phone. John thought he must still be at the dentists so he left a message. “Hi Ahmed it’s John here. Listen mate I left my glasses on the plinth and when I went back for them there was some loose tape on those microphone wires we laid. When I bent down to replace it I noticed you’d left your toolbox under the plinth mate so I took it to the car park hoping to catch you and when I couldn’t find you I put it in your boot old son so don’t fret when you remember it ok? That dentist must really have got to you rattled pal I’ve never know you forget our toolbox before!'