is over four hours in length. I expect that I’ll
catch a few winks myself on that flight.”
“It’s been a
pleasure conversing with you. Do enjoy your vacation. This is the final leg of
my own trip and I’ll be most pleased to be back home with my family in three more
days.”
The front door of
the aircraft was thrown open and the passengers began quickly filing out.
I retrieved my
carry-on from the overhead luggage bin and stepped back to allow my seatmate to
go ahead of me since I was in no hurry.
When we arrived at
the front of the aircraft, four armed guards were present and requested that
the Arab chap and I follow them. One of the men took my carry-on bag from me.
“I must retrieve
my baggage first,” the Arab answered. “The crew insisted that it be placed in
the plane’s storage compartment. My computer and cell phone are in the small
bag.”
“Your luggage has
already been offloaded and is in our custody,” one of the guards replied.
Instead of
proceeding down the jet way to the terminal, the Arab and I were led the
opposite way out to the tarmac where two black SUV’s were waiting.
He was taken away
in the first vehicle and I was asked to get into the second.
“I’ve got a
connecting flight to Las Vegas departing in less than two hours,” I informed my
two escorts. “May I ask where you’re taking me and why?”
“It’s a Homeland
Security matter, sir. You’ll be briefed when we reach our destination. We’re
merely following orders.”
“No, I’ll be
briefed right now. You could be kidnapping me for all I know.”
“We’re not
kidnapping you, sir. Your presence is required at a Homeland Security sub-office
near the airport. Driving there is much quicker than walking. Please get in the
vehicle. We have specific orders and the legal authority to do what we’re
doing. Please cooperate by emptying the contents of your pockets and removing
your watch.”
“Fine,” I mumbled
as I complied with their request and then got into the back seat where they
secured my seatbelt.
One of the escorts
climbed in the back beside me and the other one got into the front seat on the
passenger side. A third man was already seated in the driver’s seat.
By now the first
vehicle was already out of sight.
I was most curious
to find out what was going on.
CHAPTER
13 (Intelligence Gone Berserk)
Nobody spoke
during the five or ten minutes it took to exit the tarmac and drive to a large
office building situated quite near the airport.
I was then
escorted on foot inside the building via a small private side door and taken to
a service elevator where the three of us rode to the eighth floor.
After a short walk
down a hallway, we entered a door with no lettering but simply bearing the
number 811.
Once inside I was
led into an inner office where three men in suits were waiting. My escorts left.
“Hello,
gentlemen,” I smiled. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company today?”
“We’ll ask the
questions, sir,” one of the men replied. “I’m Special Agent Harlan D. Matthews
with Homeland Security and these are my assistants. Firstly, where are you travelling
today?”
“I’m heading to
Las Vegas on vacation. In fact my next flight departs in an hour. I do hope you’ll
permit me to catch that flight.”
“That may not be
possible, sir. Who are you and why were you on that flight from Syracuse to
Washington today?”
“My name is Tom
Kennedy and I’m a retired lawyer from Kingston, Ontario. It’s cheaper to fly
out of Syracuse rather than Toronto or Ottawa, but there are no direct flights
from Syracuse to Las Vegas so I was connecting in Washington.”
“How long have you
known Bander Haddad?”
“I don’t know
anyone by that name.”
Matthews pushed a
man’s photo over to me. It was my seatmate.
“That’s the fellow
who sat beside me on the flight. We never introduced ourselves to each other.”
“Had you ever met
him, spoken with him or corresponded with him
catch a few winks myself on that flight.”
“It’s been a
pleasure conversing with you. Do enjoy your vacation. This is the final leg of
my own trip and I’ll be most pleased to be back home with my family in three more
days.”
The front door of
the aircraft was thrown open and the passengers began quickly filing out.
I retrieved my
carry-on from the overhead luggage bin and stepped back to allow my seatmate to
go ahead of me since I was in no hurry.
When we arrived at
the front of the aircraft, four armed guards were present and requested that
the Arab chap and I follow them. One of the men took my carry-on bag from me.
“I must retrieve
my baggage first,” the Arab answered. “The crew insisted that it be placed in
the plane’s storage compartment. My computer and cell phone are in the small
bag.”
“Your luggage has
already been offloaded and is in our custody,” one of the guards replied.
Instead of
proceeding down the jet way to the terminal, the Arab and I were led the
opposite way out to the tarmac where two black SUV’s were waiting.
He was taken away
in the first vehicle and I was asked to get into the second.
“I’ve got a
connecting flight to Las Vegas departing in less than two hours,” I informed my
two escorts. “May I ask where you’re taking me and why?”
“It’s a Homeland
Security matter, sir. You’ll be briefed when we reach our destination. We’re
merely following orders.”
“No, I’ll be
briefed right now. You could be kidnapping me for all I know.”
“We’re not
kidnapping you, sir. Your presence is required at a Homeland Security sub-office
near the airport. Driving there is much quicker than walking. Please get in the
vehicle. We have specific orders and the legal authority to do what we’re
doing. Please cooperate by emptying the contents of your pockets and removing
your watch.”
“Fine,” I mumbled
as I complied with their request and then got into the back seat where they
secured my seatbelt.
One of the escorts
climbed in the back beside me and the other one got into the front seat on the
passenger side. A third man was already seated in the driver’s seat.
By now the first
vehicle was already out of sight.
I was most curious
to find out what was going on.
CHAPTER
13 (Intelligence Gone Berserk)
Nobody spoke
during the five or ten minutes it took to exit the tarmac and drive to a large
office building situated quite near the airport.
I was then
escorted on foot inside the building via a small private side door and taken to
a service elevator where the three of us rode to the eighth floor.
After a short walk
down a hallway, we entered a door with no lettering but simply bearing the
number 811.
Once inside I was
led into an inner office where three men in suits were waiting. My escorts left.
“Hello,
gentlemen,” I smiled. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company today?”
“We’ll ask the
questions, sir,” one of the men replied. “I’m Special Agent Harlan D. Matthews
with Homeland Security and these are my assistants. Firstly, where are you travelling
today?”
“I’m heading to
Las Vegas on vacation. In fact my next flight departs in an hour. I do hope you’ll
permit me to catch that flight.”
“That may not be
possible, sir. Who are you and why were you on that flight from Syracuse to
Washington today?”
“My name is Tom
Kennedy and I’m a retired lawyer from Kingston, Ontario. It’s cheaper to fly
out of Syracuse rather than Toronto or Ottawa, but there are no direct flights
from Syracuse to Las Vegas so I was connecting in Washington.”
“How long have you
known Bander Haddad?”
“I don’t know
anyone by that name.”
Matthews pushed a
man’s photo over to me. It was my seatmate.
“That’s the fellow
who sat beside me on the flight. We never introduced ourselves to each other.”
“Had you ever met
him, spoken with him or corresponded with him
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