The Terrorist

Marianne glanced down the hallway.  Empty. She quickly entered the little first floor library and shut the door. She sat next to Spencer and whispered- “The coast is clear”. The buildings’ rooming house tenants, except for Mr. X, were all seated in expensive but well worn high back leather chairs. Spencer leaned forward and took a long sip of coffee from his Marine Corp mug. It was the signal that it was time to begin the meeting.

Spencer had become the group’s leader although there was never a vote. He just had that military air. He was used to leadership as a retired Marine sergeant. He thanked Marianne for organizing the meetings, as usual. He knew it was important to praise the troops, even the low ranking ones who do the menial work.

The group were retirees who had their individual hobbies and interests. They were polite and friendly but not particularly close until now. The thought of a terrorist in their midst focused their attention and brought the group into an intimacy they had not previously experienced. Mr. X was not one of their kind. He was probably in his late 20s. He had lived in the building’s small 4th floor loft for the past six months. He came and went without a word- just a slight nod or smile. Spencer thought he was from a Middle Eastern country, perhaps Iran. 

Spencer handed out a sheet of paper summarizing Mr. X’s credit card use and bank account activity- “It’s good to have friends in the PD”. The credit card activity was minimal- mostly the usual fast food stuff but there were a fair number of charges for books. The bank activity showed a major deposit monthly followed by a withdrawal three days later of most of that deposit. “It seems our Mr. X likes to deal with cash to avoid a paper trail”.  

Betty raised her hand. Spencer sighed, “Betty, this is not a class- you can speak anytime”. Betty, a retired fourth grade teacher, responded, “I just didn’t want to interrupt”. She knew her place with the sergeant in charge. She stared at the group over her small glasses and continued. “As we discussed at our last meeting, Mr. X is out a lot. I follow him on even days. Thanks Martin for your excellent driving skills. I don’t think we have been spotted”. Martin, a retired bank manager, smiled awkwardly, blushing a bit at the endorsement, “It was my pleasure”. Betty smiled back in their little flirtation dance. 

Spencer pressed on- “Well Betty, please get on with it”. She cleared her throat and began. “Well, one day last week I followed my X to a camera store. He was there for over an hour so I finally went inside pretending to look at cameras and I observed him paying for his purchases- in hundred dollar bills, lots of them”. She explained, “He bought two high end cameras, several lenses and a backpack for the equipment”. The rest of the group mumbled softly and one let out a low whistle. 

Allison and Fred next reported on the subject’s trash bags. They had spent a couple of weeks taking notes. Allison was a retired accountant so she shared a spreadsheet outlining all of the contents of the trash. It was pretty routine until we got to the miscellaneous column. Fred chimed in looking for sympathy, “You really don’t want to look through trash, it was not very pleasant.”. Then he offered, “But it was worth it. One day he had a bag of pipes, another day- wire screening and on another day pieces of wood,. Then I found a receipt for a trip to Nicaragua”. The mumbling got a bit louder. 

Marianne filled coffee cups and passed around a tray of chocolate chip cookies for the group. Spencer passed the tray quickly without taking a cookie and asked Mitchell for his report. Mitchell was a retired postman. He was used to observing everything in his daily walks. He started with “As you know, I am in charge of the odd days. Mr. X often goes to the University for hours on end. He goes into the biology building often and I learned he is taking classes in biology and environmental science. The mumbling resumed. Cheryl, a retired nurse, came to the obvious conclusion- “He’s planning a biological attack!”. Everyone gasped as Spencer announced the next step.

“See something, say something”. He indicated he would contact his FBI friends. “This is much bigger than we can handle”. The meeting was adjourned. All filed out separately and quietly. Marianne stayed behind to clean up.

The FBI raid was pretty impressive. Three vans of agents spent all morning going over every inch of Mr. X’s fourth floor loft. Spencer eagerly asked the lead agent at the van- “Well, what did you find?”. The agent took off his vest and placed it in the van. He turned and said- “False alarm. Mr. X is from Egypt. He is the son of a wealthy businessman. He is here to study birds and the effect of pollution on rare species. He is building cages to house them and study them at the university. He pays cash for everything since he is not familiar with banks here and he gets cash discounts for everything- especially expensive photography equipment to use in his bird studies- including the trip to Nicaragua he’s planning”. He added, “Thanks for your help but we won’t be coming back”.

At the final meeting, Spencer announced the FBI findings as Marianne passed out freshly baked brownies. The group filed out sheepishly, leaving the brownies to Marianne- only to return to their mundane retired life. Marianne cleaned up the place and shut the library door. She smiled a bit as she retreated to her room. She opened her bureau drawer and thumbed through a folder filled with blue prints of the FBI headquarters. Underneath the folder she glanced at a folder filled with flight school brochures as she thought, “Yes, they won’t be back”.