A suitcase of misery

Nobody paid much attention to him, the young man wheeling a suitcase into the airport. After all, there were a few thousand others there that day, all doing the same thing. Taking their suitcases, checking them in, then boarding a plane to some destination.

It didn’t even strike people as odd that he was coming into the arrival hall instead of departures. Lots of people were there wheeling their bags around after getting off their flights. So many people, jetlagged and disorientated, even the airport police didn’t think anything was out of place. This was Australia after all, and there have been very few credible threats against aviation in this country. Whilst passengers boarding flights or entering the departure hall were subjected to screening, anyone could walk into an arrival hall without undergoing basic screening.

There were people hugging relatives, overjoyed by their reunion, emotions encapsulated in tears and laughter echoed all around. Simon wasn’t there to meet anyone, or at least not in person. He had a job to do. The large heavy blue suitcase he dragged along was filled with misery. The fluorescent pink strap wrapped around it and the bright red tag affixed to the handle made it impossible to miss. Yet, in this sea of suitcases, it remained anonymous.

His eyes scanned the arrivals board, searching for the information he needed. Flight 698 from Sydney, landed, baggage carousel 3. Simon looked for the required baggage carousel, he wheeled the bag closer and waited.

He could feel his nerves growing inside him. He tried to justify the events he was close to setting in motion, he felt anger towards his own country, and he had been convinced this was the way to have his mission noticed. Simon hadn’t always held these feelings, but since his mother had died during lockdown and he couldn’t be there with her, his emotions had changed. There hadn’t been a positive father figure in his life, except for his older brother Peter.

Peter had tried to calm Simon down, but the more he tried, the more the 32-year-old turned away. He descended the rabbit hole of the internet where he met others with similar views. They interlaced their hatred with bible verses, talking about how their country had turned against its people and how they needed to fight to reclaim it.

He learned how to make deadly explosives including the one in the suitcase he dragged along. He found out how to purchase firearms both legally and illegally. He had joined a gun club and purchased the semi-automatic pistol also within the suitcase. But most destructively, he had met Raymond.

Raymond was a member of one of the hate groups Simon had joined, he understood Simon’s pain and they grew close. Raymond had been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer; he blamed the COVID injection he had been required to get to keep his job. Raymond was a baggage handler at the airport. Through their encrypted chats they had discussed the flaws in airport security and this plan quickly formed. They wanted to cause maximum carnage, and this would get their message heard.

As the baggage carousel began to roar to life, Simon realized that the time was here. He would place the suitcase on the carousel, it would pass around to Raymond waiting within the secure area. He would remove the suitcase, take the bombs within, and detonate them near the fuel tank on a ready-to-depart aircraft filled with passengers. The explosion would be devastating. He’d use the pistol if he needed to, but there would be no slow radiation and chemotherapy death for Raymond.

At that moment, a small child ran past, excitedly screaming, “Mommy!”

This was the first time Simon had thought about the real consequences of his actions.