“Now, you got an order from Bush. You got it yet.” Asked the terrorist aggressively.
“Yes, it came in the morning...” stuttered John. The terrorist interrupted and said “Shut up and listen now, I want you to put this powder into his medicine, don’t worry it’s harmless, its makes the medicine last longer.”
“Don’t lie to me, its cocaine or something.” Said John.
“Shhhh!!!” whispered the terrorist aggressively. “Now if you don’t do as I say otherwise your successful business won’t be there no more.”
“Why do you want me to do this, why me?” asked John.
The terrorist was from a Pakistani origin, he had a bold head with a small scar on his face running across his upper neck His face wasn’t visible in the dark light. He wore full black clothing and a balaclava which covered all his face. The terrorist then pushed John out of the alley-way with great strength. He then suddenly disappeared into the thick darkness. John strolled back to his business.
“How many left?” asked John.
Two, the president’s and one of our clients” replied Tim. Tim had short, black hair with dreadlocks. A formal suit was his usual clothing. He was very tall compared to the average adult. He had an average build; his muscles were toned because he was a regular at his local gym.
“You do the clients and I’ll do the president’s!” shouted John from a distance.
“Okay boss!” screamed Tim. John took the order and strode to his office. Shut the door’s blind down. He walked slowly and gently towards his armchair and sat down. While scratching his head, he thought about what to do with the powder.
He felt a sense of evilness in him. In the back of his mind he remembered what the president did to Afghanistan and Iraq. His eyes widened, and his fists tightened. He pulled out the powder from his pocket and slammed it on the table. He then got up and went to his cupboard and grabbed some tablets. He ground them up and added the white powder at the same time. Mixed it up and poured the white powder mixture in to a clear bag and then sealed it.
A knock on the door interrupted him. John rushed and panicked. He then ran and quickly hid his equipment.
“What are you doing, sir?” asked Tim in concern. “Why is door locked?”
“I’m okay, just finishing off this order” stuttered John.
“Okay boss, just checking if you were alright” sighed Tim. John sighed heavily. What if Tim had found out what he was up to? Would he tell the police?
The equipment was now put away. John grabbed the powder and unlocked the door. Slowly he creaked the door open, keeping a lookout for any of his workers. There were none. As he walked out, he tapped the door shut. He walked over to the processing bay quietly.
The warehouse was silent, it was as if it had been deserted for years. John crept over to the machine and turned it on. This was the packaging machine for the company.
Suddenly a pin dropped from behind. John shot round and covered the machine. John became very aware of his surroundings. He could hear someone breathing; it was coming from the far office. He then saw a shadow appear behind him. The process had finished and had then been sent to the mailing machine. John sighed, but was more aware then ever. He walked slowly back to his office. Sat in his comfy armchair and fell asleep a few minutes later.
The next morning he woke up, put on the television and switched over to the news. A report claimed that George Bush had dies of poisoning. John gasped, acting as he was terrified as Tim walked in. He stood behind John’s armchair, tears flowing from his eyes. He then sat down and froze like a statue. John asked “What’s wrong with you?” There was no reply.
Suddenly a constant thud could be heard from the office. The main entrance was smashed through by the FBI.
“Everyone, freeze and stop what you are doing!” Shouted the leader. John froze as they came in. Lots of thoughts rushed through his mind like a painful blizzard. Was this the end? What would happen next?
The FBI Squad rushed in, they were heavily were heavily equipped with artillery, and wore bullet-proof vests under their navy blue uniform. They scattered themselves all over the factory; blocking all entrances and exits; surrounding the perimeter.
“Tim Doherty, you are under arrest from the United States government, you have the right to remain silent, and anything you do say maybe given in evidence, which you may later rely on in court. Do you understand?”
Tim replied “Yes, I understand...”
