Chapter 4
"Terror at 30,000 Feet"
A week had come and gone and after Ron and I had toured the cities of Madrid and Barcelona, it was time to return to the United States while still waiting for a response from either Harvard or Brown. However, there was something far more important to pay attention and it was happening somewhere over the horizon.
The morning of July 17, 2006 began like any other as the sun rose over Barcelona, Spain. Arriving at the Barcelona International Airport, we checked in for British Airways Flight 477 to London/Heathrow departing at 7:10am on an Airbus A320 before connecting to British Airways Flight 213 to Boston departing at 11:20am on a Boeing 747-400.
Everything seemed uneventful as we flew up to London and landed just after 8:30am. As we waited to board for our flight to Boston, however, we began to notice the suspicious behavior of one passenger.
Little did we know that this guy had deadly intentions.
"Hey Ron," I said as we waited to board. "I can't help but wonder of that guy over there. What do you think he's up to?"
"I think he's probably nervous, KP," replied Ron in a very mellow voice. "Just ignore him and think of all that we had done over the past week."
It was very hard to think of all that we had done in the past week and there was something about this young Arab man that made me think of him as one of those idiotic terrorists with those warped beliefs. Soon, we boarded the 747-400 jet and sat a couple rows behind the man, my eyes still locked on him like a hawk.
"Can't you just ignore him, Kim?" cried Ron as we sat down in our seats. "He looks harmless to me."
"Not to me," I replied, firmly. "There is something about that guy and I can't help but wonder about it. He must be up to no good, Ron and I know it very well. You may not notice it, but I certainly do."
The agent inside of me knew that what Ron was saying was indeed truly false. Ever since 9/11, our mantra has always been to say something if you see something suspicious. But before I could ask a flight attendant, the request came for all passengers to be seated for departure. Shortly after 11:30am, we took off from Heathrow Airport and turned over Ireland before starting our long journey across the Atlantic Ocean.
For the next seven hours, everything seemed to be normal. Our documentation was filled out to reenter the United States and the inflight meal had already been served. Just as we were about 45 minutes away from landing however, was when things began to take a frightening turn.
"Well, guess I'd better hit the john," remarked Ron as he got up from his seat. "Might as well clean myself out before we go through the formalities, wouldn't you say, KP?"
"I'd certainly say," I remarked in a disgusted voice at Ron's toilet humor. "Perhaps maybe you should, given what you had just said."
"Hey, what happens at 30,000 feet stays at 30,000 feet," chuckled Ron as he walked over to the bathroom.
Shortly after going over to the bathroom, the young Arab man got up and I began to notice that he had something in his hands. It was a small bag that had what appeared to be several components inside of it. At the time, it was not an issue. But to me, it was. However, as Ron was waiting, I saw him struggling to open the bathroom door, only for a man to open it with a young girl inside.
"Didn't you see the sign?" he muttered to Ron in an irritated voice as he pulled his daughter out of the bathroom. "Bloody idiot."
"Well sorry," replied Ron as he walked into the bathroom. "I didn't see the sign."
It took several minutes for Ron to do his business in the bathroom and then he came out while the Arab man went in right after him. Perhaps maybe he needed to throw something out that couldn't be waited for collection, but I had my reason.
"That guy was a jerk," said Ron, bitterly as he sat down. "How was I supposed to know that he was occupying the bathroom?"
Suddenly, we heard a loud bang coming from the bathroom and the sight of smoke was coming out of it. The sounds of people screaming were heard next and the doors flung wide open as the man collapsed onto the floor, his body covered with what appeared to be in burns and that his clothes were torn off in several places. I leapt out of my seat to help put out the source of the disturbance and I saw that the bathroom had markings of an explosion on it and a small fire starting to form.
"Get a fire extinguisher!" I shouted to a flight attendant as she sprayed the bathroom through the large hole caused by the bang. The man was still alive, but he was crying out in pain as several passengers carried him to an empty seat that was not his while the flight attendants called up to the cockpit.
"What was that?" asked the captain as he listened into what was being said. "Bloody hell. Tell everyone to be seated and we will ask for an immediate emergency landing at Boston."
Putting the phone down, the pilots contacted the tower at Logan Airport, demanding an emergency landing. Once the word had come out about our situation, airport officials immediately ordered that the fire and rescue teams were to be dispatched at once to meet us.
"Ladies and Gentlemen," the captain said over the intercom in a tense, yet calming voice. "We have notified Boston of what happened and they are going to meet us at a random location at the airport. Please stay seated until further instructions upon landing. Thank you."
So, we prepared for an emergency landing and that a pair of handcuffs were placed on the individual in an effort to keep him contained. Still, there was the matter that there was no doubt whatsoever that this was an attempted terrorist attack. After we landed, we were taken to a remote part of Logan Airport where we were met by local Massachusetts state police as well as the local branch of the FBI.
"I guess you were right about one thing," said Ron as we were later bussed to the terminal to clear immigration and customs. "This guy was up to no good."
"I told you so, Ron," I said, my voice filled with determination. "And we are going to get to the bottom of this if it is the last thing we ever do at Global Justice."
