Chicago, Illinois
The man whom some knew as Walter retrieved a new cell phone from his pocket and dialled a long series of digits from memory. The line took only a few moments to connect. The phone on the other end did not complete a single ring before being answered.
‘I’m listening.’ No greetings were exchanged. No names would be used. The protocol had been discussed and rehearsed many times.
‘It’s time.’
From Walter’s seat at the Palm Court restaurant of the Drake Hotel, Chicago’s ‘Magnificent Mile’ was framed in picturesque view through large, tinted windows. Even as he made the call that would set the final phase of their plan in motion, he knew this place was the perfect stage. Lining the six-lane Mecca of consumerist self-indulgence were endless shops, ranging in their degree of glamour from Ralph Lauren, Tiffany & Co. and Luis Vuitton, to the Disney Store and the Purple Pig. Even in the early morning, the street bustled and tourist-shoppers jostled excitedly from one glass door to the next, caught up in the surroundings and willing to pay twice the actual value for items they only here realized they couldn’t live another moment without.
Walter looked on the scene with unmitigated disgust. Everything about the sight repulsed him, from the fat, materialistic shoppers who scuttled about like insects below, feeding on the dung heap of decadent materialism, to the buildings themselves, which stood like dazzling, shiny monuments to gluttony and delusion. Even the so-called ‘religious’ buildings of the Mile had fallen prey to the convoluted idolatry of the age, with the Archdiocese of Chicago’s complex blending seamlessly into Saks Fifth Avenue, leaving considerable doubt as to whether there was any real difference to the philosophies exemplified within them.
If anything was proof of the Great Leader’s interpretation of the End, this was it. The world was lost, dead, over. Anything good was long since gone, leaving behind only . . . only, this. A sour taste formed in Walter’s mouth.
The silence on the phone became conspicuous, and he turned his attention back to the exchange.
‘Release the video.’
The slightest pause, then the brief, expected response. ‘Consider it done.’
Walter said nothing further, and a moment later the line went dead. The diminutive script had been followed to the letter and the men on the other end would know precisely what to do. The video they had prepared a week earlier would be released and the public face of the plan set in motion. Truth would begin to be spoken in darkness, and the elect would at last be set free.
Just as had been intended for nearly two thousand years.
Walter took a sip from his water glass and a bite from the single slice of plain bread he’d ordered from a visibly unimpressed waiter a few moments before, turning the small phone over in his hand. He raised his gaze from the street to the buildings lining the avenue to the south, his eyes settling on the site that had been selected long ago. Its location was ideal: accessible, along the scheduled route, and the central structure of a gardened square where the Mile was at its widest and the greatest concentration of people would be assured. Its elevation was perfect. At just over 150 feet it was tall enough to ensure wide exposure, without being so high as to diminish the impact or effect.
Even the design was fitting. On a street that glistened with everything modern, this building looked old. Almost ancient, so much like their own cause.
With no need to linger further, Walter set the cell phone down on the table, wiping it clean of his prints. He would leave it as he departed, a tool that had served his purpose and was no longer required. Gazing back through the window, for a brief moment the scene before his eyes changed. He saw a vast, fiery cloud; glass fragmenting the sun as it fell like rain; bricks loosing their connected clutch and turning to vapour. He saw ash and dust and an impact blast stronger than any natural wind. He saw the future, and it filled him with an excited satisfaction.
When he blinked, the vision was gone. Before him was once again the glitz of the present, yet his satisfaction remained.