Joss sat on the table, the room was dark, his head hung down as he starred at the floor. He had trained for this day, prayed for this day and now it was here. He was to enter the arms of Allah. The video camera was still on the tripod, he had filmed a message to his parents during the revelry of the previous evening. It had been a spirituous night, all the members of the cell had gathered, singing and preying. Joss and his best friend Marmot were intoxicated in the glory of the event.
Marmot raced into the room already dressed in his suicide jacket.
“Come Joss, for today we see Allah and we kill those who oppose him, today is a great day.” Joss did not respond, Marmot helped him into his jacket running the control lead down the arm of shirt making sure the control button sat in the palm of his hand.
“Now remember one click to arm, second click,” Joss looked at Marmot he couldn’t bring himself to say it.
“There now, put on your overcoat, you look like everyone else. Now what about me!”
Just then there was a call from downstairs, muffled but told the boys to get a move on the transport had arrived.
One of the cell members was a taxi-driver and it was his job to drive to the boys to their destination, a large Shopping Mall. When the boys emerged they praised and congratulated them, a feeling of elation gripped the group. The driver smeared mud over the licence plates then took his place behind the wheel, checking his mirror he pulling away from the pavement and into the traffic.
The journey was silent, Joss could hear Marmot preying softly, and doubt crept in. Thoughts of his family, his mother and father, they weren’t extremists; they weren’t trained to give everything to Allah. He was told they would not understand and was stopped from seeing them. His younger brother and sister he would never see them again. The taxi pulled up near the entrance, and the driver turned to the boys.
“Now you know your targets.” The boys nodded.
“Good, today you will be received as Martyrs in the army of God, now go.” And with that, the two alighted and the taxi pulled away.
They entered the mall with a string of others it was the twenty-third of December and the mall, full of eager shoppers hunting last minute gifts. Marmot patted Joss gently on the shoulder wished him luck and headed towards his target while Joss walked through the mall. Packed with families getting there last minuet shopping, he'd been there before but today he can see all their faces. Joss reached the food mall and made his way the seated area, it was five to twelve and the area was filling up fast with mothers and small children were these the enemies of God? They were wealthy but then his father would say, “Our country would be wealthy if we didn’t spend on war.”
What of the cost to bring them in to this country how many mouths could that have fed Joss was confused.
“Is this seat taken?” Asked a woman clutching a child, he jumped not expecting anyone to speak to him.
“Yes! No! Sorry, you may take the chair,” Josses mouth was dry and sweat dripped from his forehead.
“Are you OK,” asked the woman. It took a few seconds for him to respond.
“Yes, thank you I am fine.” He stammered nervously
“Are you sure I could get you some water?” Just then
He felt the ground move as the loud explosion echoed through the malls. Joss looked pale, he knew that Marmot was dead and so were many others, and for what? To make people hate them more? The lady looked at Joss her face showed her fright as she hugged her child close, people started running and women and children screamed. He wanted to reassure her it was ok he wasn’t going to do it, riddled with fear, regret, and remorse he wanted to live. Most of all he wanted those around him to live.
Then he noticed him, the cell member that had brought them in the taxi, he was at the far end of the mall by a pillar, he was holding a phone, texting a message. Joss lost all sight of those around him, of the panic, people running back and forth, he had heard the arming click of the detonator.
“He has armed the bomb.” called Joss.
He rose, lifting his arms to the sky in a vain attempt to signal his intent to stop. Joss watched in terror, the eyes of the terrorist as he sent the signal that had overridden Joss’s hand control; he did so with no remorse, no fear, no compassion, and ultimately no danger to himself.
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