The Brink of Destruction

The old man jumped backwards, startled. He could see that Laura had his bag…and his gun. Seeing Laura moving towards him in the dim light, he slowly raised his hands.

“Don’t shoot me!” he urged with a thick Arabic accent. “I am not armed!”

“WHERE IS IT?” Laura shouted at him.

Feigning confusion, the man responded “Where is what?”

“YOU KNOW WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT!” Laura shouted again.

“I do not,” the man responded calmly.

Laura aimed the gun at the man’s left knee and pulled the trigger. The gun fired with a deafening pop which echoed in the small chamber. The man crumpled to the ground, holding his leg.

“I SAID—WHERE IS IT? GOD DAMN IT!”

The man writhed on the ground moaning, staring back at Laura. Laura walked right up to him and lowered the gun to his other knee.

“Listen man, I know what you’re up to and I’m not going to let this happen. I don’t have time to negotiate with you. In three seconds I’m pulling the trigger and you’re going to lose your other knee. If you survive you’ll live the rest of your life in a wheelchair. One. Two…”

“Wait,” the man said feebly. “I’ll tell you what you want to know. Don’t shoot again. It’s not worth it to me. I’m just doing this for the money. I am not the main villain in this equation.”

“WHERE IS THE BOMB?” Laura asked urgently.

The man sighed and looked at her with calculating eyes. Laura raised the gun to his head.

“Where…is…the…goddamn…BOMB?” she asked, more calmly this time.

The man continued to size her up, with eyes that implied he had not yet been convinced that Laura was a worthy adversary. They locked eyes, his squinting, hers unflinching. Laura pressed the cold steel hard against his skull. The man winced in discomfort.

“OK. OK, all right. Go up through the hole and down the hall. The double doors on your right will lead you to cargo room. The bomb is in there.”

“How do I disarm it?” Laura asked.

“That will be difficult,” the man said. “The reagent has already been dropped down into the main canister. You’ve either got to pierce open the canister, which is made out of thick metal, or you’ve got to keep the temperature from dropping low enough to initiate the reaction while you send for help.”

“Where is the thermostat? In the room?”

“How the hell should I know?” the man replied matter-of-factly. “Besides, the temperature will drop rapidly. No HVAC system will be able to offset it—at least not quickly enough to neutralize the reaction.”

“Is there a way I can shoot it open?” Laura asked him.

“Not with my gun. The main canister is thick. It would need to be cut open with a strong hacksaw or some other sort of metal cutter. I don’t think anything in my bag will be useful for that task.”

Laura looked down at the man, assessing whether he was in a condition to flee while she went up through the hole. She realized he was too wounded to hoist him through the hole to accompany her. Having nothing with which to bind his hands or feet, she contemplated shooting his other knee in order to fully immobilize him. He looked to be fairly weakened though.

“What is your name?” Laura asked the man.

“Ali. My name is Ali.”

“Ali, are you lying to me?”

Ali said nothing. She rubbed the barrel off the gun hard against Ali’s scalp. He writhed in pain.

“ARE YOU LYING TO ME?” she screamed.

Ali stared back at her and drew in a deep breath.

“Lady, I have no incentive to lie to you. You may think that I have a central role in this situation. I assure you that I do not. I am just a mercenary, just a man here to collect a paycheck. At this point I will consider myself lucky to live another day. Listen to me. You have just minutes to complete your objective. At this point it is clear that I’m not going to collect my paycheck. You have incapacitated me so either I am going to prison or I am going to die. I am smart enough to realize that. I assure you I am not here to wage jihad, I am not some crazy Muslim kamikaze. Like you, I don’t want to die. I have not lied to you about anything, so get up through that hole and get on with it.”

Laura stared back at him, her confidence growing by the second that these plots were not being masterminded at all by Muslim extremists.

“Go. Go now,” Ali urged.

Laura made a conscious decision to accept Ali at his word. She reached up to grab the perimeter of the hole to hoist herself up. She took one look back at Ali, who was watching her every move intently. It occurred to Laura that he conceivably still could navigate the tunnel, including the underwater areas, and fully escape if Officer Kreig had retreated. Laura dropped back down from the hole and walked towards Ali. She cocked her fist back then punched the man squarely in the face. He slumped over, motionless, blood trickling from his nostrils.