The Package

The scene outside was chaotic. Through the curtain, Ian could see numerous police cars and heavy duty trucks parked. The blue and red light coming from the vehicles was illuminating his usually quiet neighborhood. The officers blared into their megaphones to remain in doors as they figure the situation out. Whatever the situation was, it didn't seem light by any stretch of the matter. All of his neighbors were doing what Ian was doing: looking through their windows and pointing at the commotion outside and talking amongst their household members. Ian was waiting for his wife to get back home from work, but it would have to be an even longer wait, as the whole area was cautioned taped off. No one was allowed to enter the neighborhood, and all traffic was being diverted to go away from it.

The news wasn't giving much detail as to what was happening, but Ian had a bad feeling about what was going on outside. It wasn't everyday that a scene like this would happen, and he only thought that something like this would happen in the movies. He tried calling his wife on his cell, but every time he tried placing the call, the line went dead. He went to his landline phone, but the line wasn't giving a dial tone. He realized the force outside had put a jammer to block any calls going in or out of the area. Whatever the situation was, Ian just wanted to see his wife. For some reason, he was getting that knot in the stomach feeling that something bad was about to happen. Little did he know, something was about to happen in his neighborhood.

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Detective Christopher Finch was assigned to this task. He was standing on the street, feeling the stares of all the neighborhood on him and his team. Earlier in the day, the bureau had received a tip about a bomb threat that was going to occur later in the day. Finch was used to getting these threats, as the bureau got one at least once a week. But this case was different, as the person that sent in the threat gave the bureau a package via a drone sent to the bureau. Advised not to shoot down the drown, or else there would be a fatal consequence, the bomb squad and officers watched as the drone placed the package near the load in area at the bureau. As the drone flew away, the bomb squad went in to investigate and determine what was inside the package. As they opened it, they realized that it was an already diffused bomb, given as a message by the person that gave in the threat.

Using a randomly generated number, all the detectives and workers at the bureau received a text message that said: "the next one, or ones, won't be diffused." After a few minutes of deliberating on the next move and plan, another text message had arrived, but this time, the message gave coordinates to where the perpetrator was going to target. What confused the bureau was the location. It wasn't a landmark, nor was it a mall or something significant. Rather, it was a suburban neighborhood that had a population of about 100. Everyone was trying to find what the motive was for targeting such a random location, to which another text message had come, which stated that there was no motive. According to the texter, it was going to be a "fun experiment."

Finch was trying to coordinate with the team, triangulating the location of where the drone was going to go, and the amount of time they might have had once the drone arrived with the package. It was a chilly night, and it didn't help with all of the people around him and in their homes already on pins and needles. Finch was trying to coordinate with the bureau back at headquarters when he heard a humming noise. "That's not ours, is it?" he asked one of his fellow officers. They shook their head no. Finch and the others looked up to see 20 drones hovering towards the neighborhood. "What the," said an officer out loud as the drones each descended towards a home each. The bureau and police helicopters above were awaiting instructions as to what to do. "Stand down, for now," said Finch into the walkie. The helicopters elevated higher into the night air, as the drones descended to each of the home's doorsteps. The neighborhood residents now saw the drones hovering down, and the commotion began.

An officer blared into the megaphone to keep calm and remain indoors, but it didn't help calm any of the residents down. Finch looked on as the drones placed a package at each of the home's doorsteps. After dropping the packages off, the drones flew back up and went off into the night. Finch's radio went off. "Sir," the officer on the other end spoke. "Go for Finch," Finch replied. "Sir, we just received a message from the perpetrator," the officer said. Finch motioned the officers around him to come closer as he put his radio on the loudest volume. "Relay the message," Finch said. The officer read the message into his walkie:"welcome officers. As you can see, this is a thought experiment. Its an ethical dilemma. You have 20 packages to check, but you don't have the resources to check each package. What a bummer. Anyways, I'm going to give you all 5 minutes, to decide which homes you're going to save. According to my calculations, you will only be able to check 19 homes out of the 20 within a 5 minute time frame. So, this is why you get 5 minutes. So, lets see your agency tactics and planning. Once I see your team descending on the packages, your timer will start. And don't think I won't be able to see you. In fact, I'll be very close by, because I'm in one of the houses. And you must begin to help, because the more delaying you do, I've rigged the streetlights in the neighborhood to explode, one for each minute you waste. This household's life is in your hands."

Finch and his team began to look around frantically. The officers looked at Finch in a state of confusion and shock. "What do we do?" asked one of the officers to Finch. Finch was perplexed: how in the world did this person know how much staff we had? Why was he doing this to his neighbors? If his claim was to be true, why would he be at the scene of the crime? Was he that egotistical? Whatever the answers were, Finch couldn't think about pondering on an answer to them. He needed to help save everyone, and there was no other way around that. As he began to shout commands and the process in how the bomb squad was going to each home and diffuse the bombs, one of the streetlights exploded. The tall light pole had a burning top, almost looking like a match on fire. Finch needed all the light he could get and pointed to where each person needed to go. With the technology of today, bomb squads were able to work and diffuse bombs of this nature in record times. But in this kind of circumstance, they would have to go above and beyond the call of duty. "We're going to save each of these people here, so help me god," Finch said as his team went off to each of the homes.

As the team went to diffuse the bombs, Finch knew the harsh truth. It would take a 0.01% chance that all of the home's bombs would be diffused. But, being the type of agent that he was, Finch had to take that chance. Any chance was needed in a time like this. Slowly, the squad gave Finch and other's the green light to say which of the home's bombs were diffused. Finch looked at his watch to see how much time they had left. If the perpetrator had begun the count at the time that he thought he did, then the squad had 1 minute left. And now, judging by the speed and efficiency the squad was working at, they had 3 homes left. At the rate they were working at, They would only be able to defuse 2 of those homes, and that was an optimistic estimate. As the time ticked away, Finch looked at the squad as they worked on each of the three homes.

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Ian looked one in shock as a bunch of people came to his doorstep and began to do work on whatever was at his doorstep. He looked and realized who these people were: they were bomb squad members. He began to tremble in fear. Why was this happening, and why would someone send a bomb to him? What did he, and his neighbors do? He looked outside to see the other homes that the squad had worked on. Each of those packages were smoking, but it seemed as though the threat of explosion was gone from those packages. As he looked outside to all his other neighbors, he noticed one neighbor looking at him with a smile. It was the new tenant at the house down the road. No one really knew who he was, and the only time Ian had seen that person, he didn't wave back when he waved hello. The tenant pointed his finger like a gun in Ian's direction, and mimicked the motion of shooting at him. Ian looked back at his doorstep, and saw a commotion amongst the squad members. And within a second, a bright flash of light emitted from the package. That was the last thing Ian would see.

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Finch and his team were hit with a wave of heat and force as one of the bomb's detonated. The force of the explosion caused the front of the home to shatter and fall into a pile of debris and smoke. The houses that neighbored the home were affected by the shrapnel and debris of the bomb as well. Finch was knocked to the ground so hard he hit his head on the road pavement. Shards of glass and metal had cut him and his fellow agents, with the neighboring home's windows all shattered into smithereens. Finch looked up to see the carnage, and one of the residents from down the road walking towards his team. "Stay right where you are!" Finch tried to scream through bouts of coughing and pain. The resident would not stop. Finch pushed himself up, retrieved his gun and pointed in the resident's direction. "Put your hands on your head and stand down. Now!" He yelled out loud as the officers who had any sort of strength got up and also pointed their weapons towards the resident. The resident stood pat, put his hands on his head, and slowly knelt to the ground. With a wicked and disturbed smile he looked at Finch and his team as they proceeded with caution towards him.

The resident was knelt under the burning streetlight that had exploded earlier, giving the resident an almost hellish glow. "Seems like you failed the experiment, detective!" screamed the resident. Finch stopped in his tracks and slowly put his gun down as the resident looked at him in a smarmy way. Finch could only think of one thing in his head: why? Sadly, he had a feeling he wouldn't get an answer to that question.