This time it wasn’t an extra-long taxi ride, but to Düsseldorf Airport. There was a bit more than €60 on the taximeter and the customer paid 70. Gerster got out and said goodbye greeting Bruno with the words:
“I will call you again in the next few days.”
Let's see what will come then, Bruno thought.
*******
Sandy sat with a half-dozen colleagues in a small meeting room, sparsely furnished with no pictures or other wall decorations.
Mike said, "We have evidence that a very important person of those terrorists will be here soon. One of the top leaders of Al-Qaeda will come to Germany, probably in our immediate vicinity.
“If he comes here from a secure hiding in Northern Pakistan, this means they have planned something special. We assume that a really important attack is planned. And this time the implementation is not left not any subaltern leaders.”
A murmur went through the room. Finally, something that interrupted the boring routine work was going to happen. There would be the chance eventually for each of them to stand out in the fight against terrorism.
"We should first try to get as much additional information as possible. What’s normally an effective way, for example, the evaluation of telephone calls and mails, hasn’t had any helpful evidence. But Sandy, you’ve had contact with this little Vietnamese taxi driver. Maybe we can get some information in this way,” Mike said.
"But we agreed nevertheless that Bian knows absolutely nothing and has nothing to do with anything. It’s impossible to get any relevant information this way,” she replied.
Mike didn’t agree with that.
“Of course she has little to do directly with the terrorists, but that is very different regarding her boyfriend Bruno. So, have an idea. You can use any tools we have. It`s up to you. Do your job, Sandy!
“Are there any more questions?”
One of the group asked Mike:
“If this big leader actually comes, do we hit ourselves, or do we call for backup?”
“It depends entirely from the situation," Mike answered.
Secretly, Mike thought it would be great to have the chance to get him, and even better, if himself and his group could claim this success.
*******
Bian understood nothing. She was pissed.
This Sandy, her American friend as she thought, was so likeable! She believed that was based on reciprocity, and now something happened she never had expected. Bruno and Bian stood at the taxi stand near the station. Sandy came and Bian looked forward to a good fare and pleasant conversation with the young American. She actually came to them and greeted Bian. But then she looked at Bruno and asked if he was her boyfriend, then said at once she would like be driven by a handsome man and entered Bruno`s car instead of hers.
Bian heard her making a stupid compliment to Bruno and this idiot even was grinning broadly. How stupid men were sometimes! They fell for everything, if someone flattered their vanity. But what did this bitch actually want from Bruno?
He was small and overweight, little big Bruno his nickname among the colleagues. He was at least 20 years older than Sandy, his hair thinning out already.
Yes, if Bruno had money, then it would be obvious why she was interested in him. But everyone knows that a taxi driver can`t be rich. Perhaps Bian had offended Sandy without knowing it, and she wanted to avenge somehow? But no, absolutely nothing came in her mind.
This sudden interest in Bruno must have a reason. She thought again and again, but she had not the slightest idea.
In any case she decided to talk about everything very seriously with Bruno in the evening.
*******
Bruno was very enthusiastic. Finally, someone was really interested in his opinion, his knowledge and what he had to say about everything.
This young American was really a good listener. She liked to hear anything Bruno told her, including his life story. He studied sociology and history of literature, but he left college without any degree. The only reason for this was, he had a rebellious mind, he told Sandy. Then he was an employee at a bookstore, also there were troubles again because of his political opinion, and now he was driving the cab. He had enormous knowledge about history, geography, political and economic contexts, and much more. Sandy seemed to be interested in all this; above all, she gave him the feeling his opinion was very important.
Of course, she was American and Bruno did not like the United States, this lair of imperialism and of financial capital. But he was certainly not so narrow-minded that he would transfer his negative opinion on all people living there. There were only the few who govern, whom he rejected. Sandy was a likable young woman who was versatile and a good conversationalist as well.
He earned some money driving her around in the cab. Tomorrow, Sandy would need a cab again and wanted to travel with Bruno.
Sandy wanted to buy him a coffee from McDonalds. Even though he didn`t like the US company, he would take the coffee.
Sandy was bit clumsy and poured some of it over his jacket.
"This isn`t a problem," he said. “This is not quite clean and a few old slightly faded stains are on it anyway.”
But Sandy insisted on taking the jacket to the bathroom, for as long as the stain was still fresh, she could wash it out with water, she said. Bruno looked quite impressed. When she returned with the jacket, she explained that there was now still a water stain, but later when it dried, nothing would be seen. But Bruno didn’t recognize the fact that Sandy inserted a listening device in the lining of his jacket.
*******
Bruno decided after work not to go home but to meet his new friends, Saleh and Anwar. In the back room of the train station kiosk they waited for him, and he was greeted warmly.
Soon an intense discussion began about the decadence of Western capitalism.
“The greed and the interest rate are the bad things about this system,” explained Saleh. “These pigs don`t know the words of Allah. The interests of other people are constantly violated because they are hunting for speculative gains. They get richer, while they plunder the hard-working people. The Prophet has forbidden the interest on money and that’s good. And the infidel profiteers of our days are the worst. Nothing is sacred to them. They destroy everything to increase their profit. They must be deprived of power and completely wiped out.”
Bruno nodded approvingly. All his hatred of the super-rich and exploiters, which was so deeply anchored in him, resonated with these words. Yes, he was full of hatred. But also his enthusiasm for something good and new burned within him.
Now Saleh, asked him, “Do you want to fight with us, Bruno? Against the greedy and exploitative imperialists against the infidels and Crusaders? For a Caliphate where justice and peace reign?”
Bruno looked at the two friends and responded with enthusiasm: “Yes.”
Then he wanted to know, what he, the cab driver Bruno, could contribute to this fight.
Saleh smiled meaningfully. “Very much, Bruno," he replied.
“Already tomorrow a great teacher and hero in our struggle will come. Then we will talk about our plan and you can help, that we will succeed."
Bruno wanted to ask a lot of questions, but at this moment the door was opened and like a whirlwind, Bian stormed into the room. Usually she was more the cautious type, but if she was full of anger as she was today, then she must let it out.
“Bruno, idiot. You know I'm waiting with dinner! Why don't you even call? Here you’re talking about politics and all this crap. In the afternoon you’ve been driving around with this American bitch and you think the little stupid Bian makes it all and is pretty good at home? But you’re very wrong now. At once you're coming home with me or you can pack your things and get the hell out right today!”
Bruno was totally confused. First, he felt an unruly rage rising up in him because Bian embarrassed him in front of his friends and he wanted to rebuke her immediately. But when he looked into her eyes, he saw an absolute
determination and he knew it was serious. Above all he loved her very much. And pretty soon some guilt came up. Yes, really at least, he should have called to tell her he would be late. But he wanted to avoid unnecessary discussions and so he hadn`t phoned her. Now, he was just in a dilemma.
After a few moments of hesitation, he said sheepishly: "I'm coming.”
He turned to his two friends once again and said, “I'm going to leave now. Basically, everything is clear and we can talk tomorrow about anything again.”
Then he followed Bian, leaving the others irritated, head shaking, and upset.
*******
When Bian and Bruno arrived at home, she felt scared suddenly about herself. The way she just had acted was not typical of her. That was not the way her mother had raised her. She mostly was pretty well self-denying, always looking for a compromise, and trying to please a man as much as possible. But today she was driven by fear and jealousy. She felt certainly that at the moment something was enormously wrong. Indeed, a great danger seemed to loom.
Bruno grumbled to her, "How could you disgrace me so just in front of my friends? And anyway, you know nothing about politics. Imperialism is an evil for the whole world! I have always been fighting for real democracy, whereas you don`t understand anything about it.”
Bian put her arm around Bruno trying to calm him.
“My dear Bruno, you've read a lot and know very much. But what really moves most people, you have no idea about. True democracy has never existed. It would mean government by the people. Small elites always have ruled, and that will probably always be so. Democracy, socialism, imperialism. Most people in the world don't care at all. They want to be fed, improve their standard of living, and live safe and in peace. How or who governs is not important for most people. Love and good life, these are the things that count.”
Bruno wanted to protest, and had an arsenal of arguments that he was ready to unfold. But Bian snuggled quite tenderly against him, and under these circumstances, no arguments help of course. He smiled affectionately at Bian.
She wrapped her arm around him. But suddenly she noticed something.
“What's that in your jacket? Take it off Bruno, I want to have closer look at it.”
She was astonished. There was something in it she wouldn`t have expected.
“This is a micro that is hidden in the lining of your jacket! Perhaps this was done by your new friends.”
But Bruno knew better now. Full of horror, but also anger, he called out, “It's Sandy, this American! She tricked me.”
He took a hammer from the tool tray, put the listening microphone on the kitchen table and hit firmly on it.
"So that`s done, the micro is not a problem any longer," Bruno said.
Bian thoughtfully shook her head.
“Maybe it would have been better to keep it intact. Then we could have led them astray. We don’t know what they will do now to monitor us in future. I don’t say I understand everything about what's happening here, but we surely must be very careful. “
*******
Sandy is sitting in her car. She noticed that her microphone has been discovered and destroyed. She was angry about herself. “Now I'm burned for this track, the micro is destroyed and it makes no sense to get in contact with these two again.”
What a pity. Actually, she felt sympathy for the two. Sandy believed Bruno was more or less harmless. Just a would-be revolutionary, who was a good man by heart. She was now sure about this.
But she thought it her duty to put aside all personal sympathies and antipathies and work professionally. She was committed to the service of the National Security and the fight against international terrorism. Sentiments were out of place. She was fighting for democracy and Christian values, for God and her country. For the Land of the Free where there is freedom of speech for everyone and the home of the brave, where all are able to pursue their personal happiness. And the opponents were intolerant, even misogynist and ready for any act of violence full of medieval thoughts. She was proud to stand on the side of God and because of this she should have no scruples in the fight.
Especially the two Arab terrorists who were extremely dangerous. The one of them was German but acted like an Arab seemed to be in leading position. They were up to something, she was sure.
I must be near this station kiosk with the backroom Café. Maybe I can follow one of them and learn more about their project…
Sandy thought about whom to follow if they parted. Anwar, from Yemen, was even more fanatical than the other, this German-Arab. But Saleh was more experienced and was probably higher in the hierarchy. She wanted to follow him.
She drove her car slowly in the vicinity of the station and turned up so that she had the suspicious kiosk well in sight. She hated these boring routine tasks, like waiting for hours in the shade. But she knew it was necessary. Maybe she would manage to find out when and where the leader of the terrorists would appear. Maybe she would have the honor of catching him first. But this terrible waiting! It was a pity she couldn’t list to what they were talking about there in the kiosk. But she would arrange that soon. Hopefully, now the boredom would be over when the two finally came out.
********
Anwar and Saleh were very angry after Bian and Bruno left. They felt after all they had just seen, it was ridiculous and irritating. Especially Anwar was outraged.
Bruno had always been strange to him during the short contacts that he previously had with him, and he had little sympathy for him. There was no trace of religious awe, only a skeptical minded man. He was absolutely not the guy with whom he would make friends. And now this!
He should be a campaigner against the Crusaders? No and never! He is no real man--a woman can lead him away from here like a bear on the nose ring. Such a coward can never be our companion. He is nothing but a pantywaist. A person who is commanded by women, never is a fighter!
Saleh seemed to be worried too. He weighed his head and said nothing at the moment. He saw the role of women not so absolutely subordinate as his friend did. He was confused as well about Bruno`s behavior. There were now a lot of doubts whether they could rely on him. More than doubts, even large concerns were there. And the small Vietnamese woman talked about a US bitch? Something seemed to have happened with Bruno that could make him a security risk for them. He was no longer a reliable comrade. But they needed Bruno because of a certain contact he had. What to do now?
Saleh took a deep breath at last and then he said to Anwar: “You're right, my friend, we obviously can't rely on Bruno. But it will still be important for us. He will help us if not voluntarily, then against his will and by force if necessary. The person we want to capture trusts Bruno. We need him to come close to this person without making him suspicious.”
Anwar looked at him questioningly, but Saleh smiled. “I will explain that later, my friend. It is now time, let's go.”
Both left the coffee shop and walked to their accommodation nearby. Anwar talked quietly but excitedly to Saleh. Neither noticed that they were photographed from a nearby waiting car following them.
*******
Bian and Bruno talked until late into the night. Bian was suspicious. “Tell me Bruno, what are you actually doing with this strange new friend? This Sandy spies on you, there must be a reason for it, there's something going on. Don’t hide from me any longer, Bruno, what are you going to do?”
“We really do nothing special, Bian. We only discuss global exploitation, religion, Islam, and the capital that is the replacement of religion for the ruling people in the West up to now. These US idiots are so hysterical that they want immediately to monitor any critically thinking man.”
Bian remained skeptical. "Do you think everything is really just hysteria? In any case, your new friends are also somehow suspicious to me. Please, Bruno, promise not to engage in anything dangerous. We have plans for our common future, politics does not help, because it creates nothing but trouble. Keeping out of everything is always best.�
��
Bruno didn’t know what to say. Earlier, he would have held long speeches in similar situations, fighting for a future of humanity without exploitation and that every person is obliged to join this fight. But he knew Bian. She would have only laughed loudly. In the past, he would have felt far superior to her. But today? He was not sure if what seemed to be naivety for him perhaps was something like deeper wisdom. Bruno decided at last to be silent and then changed the subject.
"Tomorrow I have to get up early and I have a great ride again. That Mr. Gerster I told you about, will this time even go to Belgium. He called me today.”
Bian sighed. “Unfortunately, I don't have as much luck. I will probably stand somewhere without occupation, until any grandma comes and wants to be taken to the nearest doctor. Tell me, what actually makes this Gerster.”
“I don't know exactly,” replied Bruno. “I'm sure he's as an engineer, and he has to do something with nuclear power plants. I remember, when there were those stress tests for nuclear power plants, he worked on them. Doesn`t matter, the main thing is the tour brings some money. We earn little enough and we need something like this badly. "
Bian agreed, but now she thought it was time to sleep.
"Who knows what tomorrow will bring to us?”
*******
After she finished the shading and reported to Mike, Sandy sat alone in her hotel room. She felt this German Arab, who called himself Saleh now, was not completely unknown to her supervisor Mike.
She was not 100% sure about this, but when she told him this name and showed the photo, she felt for a second this Saleh played a special role. She would be happy to know more about the background, but Mike would surely not reveal his secret knowledge to her. She felt frustrated. Actually, she had other expectations about her fight against terrorism. Much more dramatic and more independent. Instead of this, she was a small part of a big machine so far. She evaluated a lot of data electronically, read interrogation logs and lots of other routine work done. Not very exciting, but this was her foreign assignment. Now finally something exciting and meaningful could happen, so that her entire initial enthusiasm was not stifled in nerve-killing routine.
Whoever Kills The Innocent Page 2
