Alarming times

Alarming times, by Alan Smith, Jan 2003 (2300 words)

Hey, check this out! called Reg, and four of his five drivers crowded
around to stare out his office window. Now, said Reg like an MC, here
he comes. All eyes focused on Reg's fifth driver Tony, as he walked to
his Commsoft van, put a parcel in the back, then spun around, scanning
the car park and the buildings.

Two of the drivers stepped back. He can't see us through the reflective
glass, said Reg. Can't hear us neither. Tony turned and got in the van.
Nothing else happened. The boys were bored, fidgety. Hang on, said Reg,
you'll see!

Tony Fotopoulos sat in his car, drumming his fingers on the steering
wheel. Sweat rolled down his brow. He knew someone was watching, and
his nerves were all ajangle. Damn it, just get out and do it! he said
aloud, then with great care he eased the key from the ignition. Is
better we are safe than we are sorry, he told himself and got out,
careful not to make the van bounce. He went down on his knees and
checked under the four tyres, then up on the underbody of the car. Then
he stood, leaned back into the car, and pulled the bonnet release. Out
again, around the front of the car, and a thorough check of the engine
compartment. Then he banged the bonnet closed, got in and started the
car.

What's he up to, Reg? asked Mikey.

Checking for bombs, said Reg.

The group burst into laughter. Why? asked Ray.

Because he's a terrorist target. Well that's what he told me.

Timid Tony the terrorist target? giggled Paul., who fancied himself
with word games.

Reg waited until the laughter died a little. I'm afraid there's a
serious side. He refuses to deliver to some areas. Reg tossed a large
scale Sydney map in front of them. There were huge red Xs showing
airport, bridge, buildings over 20 stories, parliament house. And
Fotopoulos house, in Epping, where Tony lived..

So he wants to dump all his demanding deliveries on us? asked
Ray.

Not really, said Reg. He's willing to pick up your fringe jobs in
exchange, like Appin, Springwood, Kurri Kurri. The ones you all hate,
because they involve part loads, big drives, and never two deliveries
at the same. You get, in exchange, his inner city customers.

So what's this striped area, asked Mikey. All the area north of the
harbour was crosshatched in red.

You've got to use the bridge to get there. Tony sees the Bridge as the
number one target

Doesn't he know he might get fired?

I don't think he cares. Tony sees himself as a patriot, and a protector
of his family above all else. You've all seen his locker?. They nodded.
Green-and-yellow monstrosity with stuffed koala standing watch over
photos of Georgie Bush, senior and junior, plus a little shrine to the
victims of the night club bombing in Bali.

Later, when Reg was out of earshot, Paul called the others over. 'That
bastard Tony has management all fooled, manipulating the schedule like
that. I mean geez, if he's wrong, why listen to him at all, And if he's
right, why should we be in danger, not him? Listen, he needs a bit of a
reality check ok? The others nodded agreement. Then this is what we're
going to do?

* * * * *

No bomb. No wire. No nothing, this time. He was relieved. But Tony
still had this strange feeling of being watched. There was a stream of
traffic in his rear view mirror as he drove south, but they reduced to
three as he reached Rockdale. Then two. He sped up. One car dropped
back, the other kept pace with him. At the next traffic lights, Tony
swung suddenly into a left turn, tyres screaming. The watchers
followed. He sped through several intersections, heading for Kogarah
police station. Chase car gaining, not far to go, lights turning red,
car right behind him, no choice, hand on horn, charging between cars,
missing them all, screech to a stop outside the station, the other car
blasting its horn to clear the lights, no it's not a horn, it's a
werp-werp-werp siren, and that's a flashing bluelight on the car, and,
and, ?

Tony stood perfectly still, half in, half out of the station. He buried
his face in his hands, and cried. The police from the car also stopped.
Instead of grabbing his arm and ramming it up his back, the Senior
Constable put an almost gentle hand on Tony's elbow, and led him to a
vacant room, where he provided a cup of tea, and completed the
paperwork within half an hour. Four charges. Serious enough to lose his
licence if proven. But he had done these things, and risked lives. Tony
thanked the police and left.

He yearned to look under the van outside the station, but knew he must
not. Deep breath, turn on ignition, engine starts, nothing else. Pheew.
Blinker on, accelerate slowly away. Pheeeeew. But terrorists wouldn't
want to operate outside a police station, would they?

* * * * *

Tony usually finished work at four thirty, but he had been late that
morning, and intended to stay back to make up the time. There was a
message on his table from his wife to pick her up from work an hour
later than usual. What a happy coincidence, he thought.

'Happy' it was not. Gia Fotopoulos was fighting mad when she got in the
car. Turn right she ordered. Go over the bridge.

Tony started a stream of bu-bu-bu-buts, but she cut him down. No buts
Tony, the bridge! Now! I am not going to play your little games Tony,
do you hear me? And don't just sit there, say something! At least say
sorry, Tony. Sorry I went all around the world this morning Gia! Sorry
I didn't go straight over the bridge this morning Gia! Sorry I got you
sacked Gia!

Sacked? Tony exclaimed. Sacked?

No need to repeat yourself, Tony. Yes sacked, fired, discharged. I lost
my job because you made me so late.
But my darling?

Don't darling me, Tony! This is the end of it, do you hear me?

The end of what?

The end of this terrorist thing of yours. No more avoiding the bridge.
No more stupidity.

They drove in silence over the bridge , which did not burst into flames
or explode. This is not the time to mention the charges, he
thought.

Gia eventually broke the silence. You're a very lucky man Tony
Fotopoulos, said Gia. Tony raised an eyebrow. I got it back. My job. No
thanks to you. So we can still pay the mortgage, and we can still
afford the holiday in Greece next month.

Tony's head almost exploded. The Greek holiday? There was no Greek
holiday. At least not now. There were terrorists on overseas flights.
He was the head of the household, he was the one who had paid for, and
organized the flights, so it was right for him to be the one to cancel
them. He had done so a week ago, and at the time he thought, I am
saving our family's lives, and I recovered three quarters of the
cost.

But now I wish I had discussed it with Gia, he thought. It is too late
now.. She will never see why it had to be done. I will not discuss it
yet, things can only get better.

These thoughts were short-lived.. There were two locksmith's vans
outside their house, and Gia understood in a trice. A bloooody alarm
system isn't it, Tony. Tony nodded. About 5000 dollars?

They got out of the car. Tony locked it then rattled each of the doors
in turn to be sure it was locked. Four, said Tony, delighted to offer
the lesser figure.

Four thousand, where on earth do we get four thousand eh? You tell me.
Where? We do not have that money. We do not have any money, so where
Tony? You have sold our insurance? Gia started up the steps. Tony gave
the door handles one last try, tapping each of the windows in turn to
ensure they were up

No! called Tony, hurrying to keep up.

You've borrowed it?

No.

So where, Tony? I demand you tell me! She had reached the front door
now, and stormed into the house, Tony bobbing in her wake.

Mmmmblmmblbl mmmmmmbbbll.

Speak up Tony! The audience, two daughters, three locksmiths and a dog
were totally invisible to Gia, whose radar was locked on Tony
alone.

Hllldy.

Say it so I can hear you, you little worm!

HOLIDAY.

Gia opened fire on the little man, her words slicing him to pieces
without mercy. She threatened to leave him, to poison him, to cut off
his private parts, to die and haunt him forever. Then just as abruptly,
she stopped. Completely. Thus started the era of silence, and of the
locked bedroom door.

Tony actually felt better when the silence came. It was such a relief.
And when Gia banged and locked the bedroom door behind her, Tony could
talk with his daughters, and the tradesmen, and the dog, albeit with a
high degree of embarrassment. Not really knowing how to cook, he had a
Chinese takeaway home delivered, feeding a little of each dish to the
dog, then micro waving the lot hot again when the dog survived an
hour

After dinner, Tony turned on his computer to read his emails, most of
them from fellow car racing enthusiasts. One email came from
armyofallah@yahoo.com. Why him? How had they found him? Opening it, he
stopped breathing as he read the short message:

TONY: BEWARE THE RIBBON OF LIGHT

Tarsus

It had no meaning for him. There was no particular ribbon of light he
could think of, and Tarsus, well it could be an ancient city, but he
wasn't sure. What was very clear was that he had been targeted. All his
efforts had not been in vain. He had been right, he was under
surveillance, and though he had no idea why, it frightened him
immensely

Thank goodness the alarm system was in place. Later, he could show Gia
this email, and she would understand immediately how well he had acted
in protecting his family against Muslim terrorists.

Vindicated, he thought, Vindicated! He shouted two or three times, then
realized there was no one to listen to him.

The next working day held nothing special for Tony. He did not drop Gia
off, but had heard her go early, and thought she had probably caught
the train. Halfway through his lunch break, he took an incoming call,
where a deep foreign sounding voice gave the same message BEWARE THE
RIBBON OF LIGHT. His heart rate seemed to treble, and panic started to
set in. He had to tell someone. He looked around at the other drivers
in the lunchroom: all were occupied, doing crosswords, writing, and so
on. Mikey was giggling at some funny part of his book, and Paul had
just finished a phone call

There was always Reg. Tony went to Reg's office, closed the door, and
poured out everything that had happened. Reg listened carefully,
especially when it came to what to do. No, don't involve the police, he
said, that's exactly what the a terrorists want. If they can tie up the
police in chasing threats to citizens, they are no longer available to
deal with real terrorist attacks such as bombings. No, it's a tactic of
theirs. Don't let them have what they want. Don't react. Be vigilant,
but do nothing.

* * * * *

Tony left on his afternoon rounds, thinking how sensible Reg's advice
was. No sooner had he left than Reg called the others in to his office.
OK, he said, I may have started this business with Tony, but you guys
are taking this too far.

Taking what too far.. Mikey started to say, but Reg cut him off

Come on, I'm not that stupid, I know you guys are involved.

All right, said Paul, All right! We may have gone a little too far, but
he deserves?

He may deserve hassle, but I don't, and it's ending up in my lap, so
I'm asking, no ?telling you, finish it, and drop it. For that matter
hoax calls or emails are utterly traceable, and you can go to
gaol.

OK, said Paul, we'll finish it.

See you do, said Reg.

Tony knew they were following him that day. He felt their eyes. But he
wasn't going to run, or hide. He did the deliveries on time, then
returned to work, changed, and clocked off. He didn't notice the video
cameras as he walked toward his car.

What he did notice, could not fail to notice, was the man in the long
flowing robes bending near his petrol cap, his face hidden apart from
the eyes. Get away from the car, shouted Tony, and the man stepped back
two paces. Tony saw him reach into the robes, then his right hand
started to come forward?.

So Tony took out a pistol, and shot him. Dead. Tony was utterly amazed
when several of his fellow drivers came running and screaming, and when
they turned the body revealing Paul's face. He was less amazed when Reg
arrived, and eased the pistol from his hand. He expected the arrival of
the police who led him away. He was sure he'd be convicted, and was. In
some strange way, he was relieved that Gia never contacted him, though
he would have loved to know how his daughters were. His world - his
cell - had become a predictable and certain place for him. And
safe

Until the scribbled note came to him, saying simply:

I know you. You killed my brother

2300 words