Project 9/11
Chapter 23, Hero's Farewell

Chapter 23: Heroes Farewell

The incoming Jet caught his immediate attention. It was flying very low, and would be difficult to catch under any circumstances. He braced himself for the catch. From a crawl, he adjusted his position to a low crouch, and had to smile looking down between his legs at the tiny cars and buses in the parking lot, thinking about the view anyone below might be witnessing, particularly those looking up.

American Airline Flight 77 was coming in low and fast; Thomas took in a deep breath, and held it as the plane zoomed in. He grabbed the fuselage almost at ground level, his angle was just a little off, and the right wing hit the ground, bent and snapped, flying off onto the parking lot doing a crazy cartwheel. Other than that, he held the plane firmly but securely in his grasp. It never impacted the building. The President, watching on a monitor whistled and said to his aide,

”Damn! I’m glad whatever it is, it’s on our side.”

The staff had been worried about the sudden appearance of the Colossus in Washington, now they realized why he was here.

There were six hijackers among the sixty eight passengers. Thomas demanded that they be escorted out the door. He had been warned about saying anything other than the carefully scripted dialog, but he inadvertently said,

”I did it Doc.” He hoped the doctor could hear.

There was no response in his ear implant, not even the static of the void.

The angry passengers pushed the six out the door forcibly, Thomas looked at the pathetic tiny figures, singled out and lying on the ground.

”You wanted to do so much damage,” He thought,

”To take the lives of innocent people.” His anger welled up inside, then he remembered the doctors own words. “Stamp the remainder out for me!”

He picked up one squiggling little figure holding it between his thumb and index finger knuckle, He had learned how to hold a person without killing them. He would put that knowledge to good use. The Terrorist frantically tried to free himself of Thomas’s grip.

“No you don’t” Thomas addressed his captive. With just the slightest pressure Thomas turned the tiny man into a bloody smudge on his fingers.

”That’s for the passengers of Flight 93!” He thought, It was sad that he could not save them as well. Thomas picked up the second terrorist in his blood-smeared fingers. He held the terrorists tiny head pinched between his thumb and the flesh of his index finger, and slowly rolled the head and body between his fingers. A spray of blood foamed as the figure was squashed beyond human recognition.

”That’s for trying to kill my Mom and Dad!” He thought. He could actually hear the third terrorist scream as he suspended his giant thumb over the tiny insect lying on the ground, this pleased him, he slowly lowered his thumb upon the squirming figure, the pavement cracked under the pressure of the weight.

”That’s for all the other victims!” He thought.

”I’ve had enough of you!” he said to the three remaining terrorists. He picked up one in his hand, brought it close to his flaming eyes:

”You like to kill innocent woman and children, do you? You want to attack Americans?” Carefully Thomas held the lower limbs between his fingers in one hand, and the upper limbs in the other, the terrorist let out blood curdling screams, as he was ripped apart. The body separated and the entrails dangled. This pleased Thomas who observed carefully his actions, and for no reason in particular he squashed the gory remains onto his stomach, creating a red thumbprint. It looked like war paint. "This one's for Ralph" He thought with a smile.

Two were left.

Thomas stood up, leaving them below on the ground, his staggering height seen from the ground paralyzed the two quaking terrorists. They were screaming to Allah for mercy.

”You miserable piss ants, I’d really like to take a piss on you and drown you in it, If I were Ralph I would gladly do it!” He thought. Another darker thought crossed his mind, “Or worse!” He held back the base impulse and instead placed his toe directly over one of the killers. In clear view of the other he smashed and ground the terrorist to screaming paste.

”This is my message to All terrorists!” He said aloud, his voice like thunder. He bent down, picked up the remaining tiny figure, and held him below waist level, Dangling the mans tiny body in front of his enormous boyhood. The tiny man was squirming, screaming and struggling in his fingers, "Thirsty?" Thomas goaded.

“You’re pathetic” Thomas said, with satisfaction. He then dropped him, only to catch him in his other hand, toying with the terrified killer.

The terrorist was then placed on the ground gently, almost delicately. Thomas stood up again to his full sixteen hundred foot height, looked down at the pathetic spot lying helpless on the ground before him, and squashed him very slowly under the ball of his foot, like a roach. The spray of blood wetted the corner of his foot and spattered ten feet around.

A crowd had gathered out in the parking lot, they poured out of the Pentagon when they discerned Thomas’s intentions, and they cheered wildly as each terrorist was executed.

”Damn!” said the President to his staffers,

”Well done! Give that thing a medal.” He laughed. His staff members looked at him quizzically wondering where they could get such a medal made.

Thomas was proud of the job he had done, the disaster of nine eleven was turned around, and a clear message was sent to any who wished to harm innocent life.

Without saying a word, he turned his back on the scene, and stepped back into the low muddy waters of the Potomac. There was absolutely no sound coming from his headset implant. A tear came to his eye when he thought that anything bad might have happened, but he bravely walked down river as he had been instructed.

He stepped over the bridge connecting downtown Alexandria with the Maryland shore, and continued walking south, not mindful of the crowds that cheered him on along the way. They were snapping photos and making movies that they would show to their kids. Thomas continued down the rivers edge to the wide bay.

They should be bringing me back pretty soon he thought, but as the waters grew deeper, there was no sign of the swirl, no warming lights and no smiling scientists holding blankets and clothing.

Thomas heeded the instructions, and started to dog paddle out into the deep blue Atlantic, he was crying. The Ocean and the sky cloaked him and after forty minuets, everything faded.