The Chess Player
When the death of millions becomes a statistic,
the death of one person remains an unspeakable tragedy
and the prevention of it a triumph of our humanity.
As soon as we got off the plane in Honolulu, we were reminded that our fears had not been unrealistic. Sounds of angry people came from the departure level. Jennie suggested we go and see. The crowd was chasing a man with dark, bushy hair. He ran behind one of the counters. When he noticed us, he ran toward us. "Please help me," he said. He spoke in heavily accented English.
I was wearing my captain's uniform at the time. Perhaps that's why he approached us. The man was tall, heavily built, athletic looking.
The crowd came after him towards our end of the building. It appeared that there were a hundred people on the move. The man placed himself behind us, near the stairs to the lower level. When the crowd arrived he made a daring attempt to defend himself, using me as a shield, arguing with some in the crowd. But he achieved nothing. He only made the people angrier. Some where barely ten feet away from us.
Before I knew it, I was involved trying to negotiate a peace of some sort.
"What has this man done to you?" I called to the crowd in as calm and authoritative a voice as I could manage, hoping that my captain's uniform would lend a measure of power to my words. I felt that I had to find a way to calm the crowd before a riot broke out that might endanger our mission.
"He's one of those Russians who sent us the bomb," shouted a tall man in a business suit.
"Kill the murderer! Kill the murderer!" shouted others, mostly young people.
"A murderer? Whom did he murder?" I shouted back.
"The Russians sent the bomb!" shouted the young people. One tall one chap in particular, chanted with his fist raised.
"But don't forget that we built the bomb first and held it over their heads!" I replied.
"What does that matter!" shouted a stout woman in a bright Hawaiian shirt.
The crowd came pressing upon us. I knew if I stepped back, the game would be over.
"Remember, we made it quite clear to the world that we had no qualms about using it if our interests were not observed," I shouted back at them. At the same time I was calculating the distance between the elevator and us. I saw the elevator light coming on. It was going up. Thirty seconds between floors, I reasoned.
"Well, what did you expect the Russians to do, to sit idly back and buckle under?" I shouted. Twenty seconds now. It was time to go.
I no longer answered their accusations. If I could only keep them confused for another fifteen seconds.
"So who is to blame when a technicality fouls up and one of those disasters which we have prepared for each other, happens? Think about that!" I shouted at them, angrily now. "Don't straight-away condemn a man simply because he is a Russian!"
At this moment I took hold of the Russian's arm and marched him off with swift steps towards the elevator as any security officer might have done.
Some people in front of us stepped aside. The young people, farther back, protested. I hoped to God that I could fool the crowd long enough to get us to the doors, and that the doors would open in time. They did.
As the doors closed, slowly as if driven by molasses, a shot was fired! It exploded in the cab. For a split second I thought it had hit someone. In fact I was surprised it hadn't hit me. Then I noticed the Russian sink to the floor. Jennie was white as a sheet. We were both shaking. But the Russian was all right. He had merely fainted.
No doubt there had been military guards patrolling the airport. We had seen many the first night. But where were they when we needed them?
