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Warning/ Disclaimer - The idea for this story came to me shortly after the dreadful events of that day. It is a fictional "what if" short story and is not intended to offend anyone nor raise painful emotions. If you think this could describe you, concerning the 9/11 event, please be very cautious about reading further. If not, all feedback is acceptable.
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Looking at himself in the mirror, Ali Bousaid decided that he looked the part of an average workman and hoped that others would think so too. The round, wire-framed glasses and sleeked back hair had altered his appearance very well and the tool bag in his hand completed the image. Shaving his full beard and moustache had been the final touch and now he stared at the transformed face of a stranger looking back at him from the mirror. He knew that no one would recognize him now. They had hardly even noticed him when he worked there. He knew there was no turning back now…!
The guy he had been was treated as little better than a servant to the people who flitted in and out of the offices downtown, as if they had no time to breathe let alone acknowledge the presence of another human being. Most of them had the obligatory laptop briefcase in their hand and a cell phone almost permanently attached to their ear, as they did their wheeling and dealing, making and destroying lives in the time it took him to blink.
Today, that would change though. Today, they would all have to stop and think about something else. Today, he would help to remind them that there was more to life than money. Today they would all know who he was and remember him for years to come. With one last glance in the mirror, he lifted the case and left the apartment.
It was a short cab ride to the financial district downtown and Ali passed the time in small talk with the driver as he knew that to do otherwise would seem strange and he didn’t want to raise anyone’s suspicions too early. He got the driver to drop him off four blocks away and began to walk the rest of the way, giving him time to calm his nerves and enjoy what would be his last day of freedom. It was also a lovely bright, clear morning with just a hint of the heat to come as the day progressed and, as he walked, he realized the view from the roof would be phenomenal, and found himself actually looking forward to getting up there.
Pushing his way through the glass entrance doors, Ali strode confidently towards the security desk. Hoping his nervousness wasn’t showing, he nodded towards the security man and took a pen from his pocket.
“Good morning, Sir”, he said, “Electrician. Working up on sixty three”.
“Fill it out”, the security man replied, placing a sheet of paper in front of him.
Ali briefly scanned the clearance form and was pleased to see that it hadn’t changed any since he’d been employed there. He quickly filled out the required information, using his assumed name, before he handed it back to the security guard. The security man, in turn, gave it a cursory glance before handing over a ’visitor’ pass to Ali.
“Thank you Sir”, Ali said as he pinned it to his top pocket before picking op his bag and making his way over to the express elevator. He would be on the roof in no time at all.
As he rode the express elevator up, he stood at the back, keeping everyone else in front of him and idly wondered how these people would react when his plan came to fruition. Not that he cared. This wasn’t about the individuals in the building, they were incidental. This was about mighty organizations thinking that money was more important than people and Ali was going to teach them that money couldn’t buy them everything. Like loyalty, for instance.
‘By the end of this day”, he thought to himself, I will be in jail and everyone will have my name on their lips because of what I will do here‘. The thought gave him a strange sense of satisfaction and excitement.
The doors opened on the twentieth floor and the occupants spilled out, each hurrying off in their respective directions towards another day of work, completely unaware of the man who strolled casually out of the lift behind them. All, that is, except for one!
As Ali exited the elevator, a security guard standing there looked towards him, eyeing his bag suspiciously. Ali was quick to spot the potential problem but decided he couldn’t be stopped at this stage so, taking the bull by the horns, he walked straight over to the guard.
“How you doing?”, he asked lightly.
“What can I do for you, Sir?”, the guard asked.
Ali knew by his tome that the guard was suspicious of him, despite his visitors pass. Perhaps he was just one of those over-zealous types, the kind who were not quite good enough for the police or military and adopted an over inflated sense of their power as security guards. Either way, Ali knew he’d have to tread carefully with this one and give him no reason to raise his suspicions further.
“I’m doing electrics for Cantor Fitzgerald toady”, Ali said, “But you know what those guys are like. Someplace I can grab a smoke before I go up there?”
The guard considered him for a moment before replying, “I guess you could use our place. Follow me.” With that, he turned and walked off along the corridor with Ali following close behind.
The security office was little more than a basic cupboard, with space for only two occupants at a time, and even then it was crowded. It had a small table set against the wall and an extractor fan for ventilation. The guard walked in ahead of Ali and sat down. Removing his cap, he laid it on the table beside him and then fished in his pocket, producing a packet of cigarettes.
Seeing this, Ali produced his own pact and offered the guard one of his. The man hesitated briefly before replacing his own packet and taking one from Ali’s pack. Ali leant forward and lit the guard’s cigarette before applying the flame to his own.
“Thanks” the guard mumbled, not looking directly at Ali, who knew that he had won the guard over and was in the clear.
After a moment, Ali stubbed out his cigarette and said, “Well, better get on, I guess”
“Yea”, the guard replied, “No rest for the wicked, huh?”
Flashing him a smile, Ali replied, “You got it my friend”.
Leaving the small office, Ali made his way to the first and began his journey towards the roof of the building. He was surprised to see that the lift was empty but also pleased since he could afford to relax a little. It took only another five minutes before he left the lift on the 108th floor. He knew from past experience that he’ have to climb the rest of the way.
The 109th floor was the lower level of the dual restaurant/ staff canteen and the topmost floor, the 110th was the upper level with the access to the roof. After a slow climb, he finally reached the small stairway that took him to the roof itself.
It was exactly half past eight in the morning of September the 11th, 2001!
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Posted by scotslad60 on 2008-07-14 12:54:38 | Rating: | Views: 91
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hmmm...don't know where you are going with this but it is interesting!
although i guess the whole idea of sept 11 makes people agitated these days.
let's see what happens in part 2!
:)
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Posted by badlydrawnstickman
on 2008-07-14 13:09:11
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Very interesting story, i will be reading part 2.
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Posted by misselusive
on 2008-07-17 10:49:16
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It's certainly still a hot potato sticky, that's why I was dubious about posting this but wth, I thought. :p
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Posted by scotslad60
on 2008-07-17 12:15:40
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Glad you like it so far misselusive :)
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Posted by scotslad60
on 2008-07-17 12:16:08
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i just read it now ... but very interesting story
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Posted by DreamingOfBruxelles
on 2008-07-29 11:24:19
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