Tozun watched the moon appear in the sky. There were a few clouds but they seemed of little consequence. The sea was awkwardly still–mere ripples in the dark water, barely slapping against the hull of the lifeless ship. It was a full moon this night. As the moon slowly moved towards zenith, Tozun could see to the horizon where the sea meets the sky. Soon there would be a ship there—a ship like no other. It would take Tozun to his country; for at last he was free to go home. Once aboard the ship, Argo, the charges in place on the condemned ship, Canberra, would detonate remotely and what was left of the Canberra would be at the bottom of the sea and he would be able to rest his weary spirit.
The first time he was referred to as a terrorist, he was surprised and somewhat bewildered. He didn’t think of himself as a terrorist . His mother and father would have nothing to do with him unless he walked away from his group. His parents were horrified, claiming they did not raise him to be a hurtful person… The moon was at its zenith–still no sign of the Argo.
Tozun’s gaze was fixed on the horizon. He began to worry that something was wrong, but then he saw it. The ship was too far away to identify, but he was sure it was the Argo. As he strained his eyes to see the ship he felt something odd pass through his body, like a wave of electricity. Quickly, he ran to the bridge and found a pair of binoculars. He focused on the ship and saw that it wasn’t the Argo, but a Turkish Naval vessel, with a lot of armament. His mother called him a murderer and his father, who he respected above all others, called him a coward. It was his brother who called him a filthy terrorist, smearing the blood of the innocent on the family name– their father’s name.
As he was thinking, trying to decide his next move, another wave passed through him. This time much stronger. What was the naval ship doing? He peered through the binoculars again. The ship was closer. There was something odd on the deck, It looked like something out of the comic books he used to read. A coil of some kind. His father had him get his things and leave the house immediately. His father told him the same thing his Iman told him: nothing has ever been solved with violence. It just makes the other side angry and more dangerous.
The wave went through him again. They were being transmitted by that coil on the deck of the Turkish ship. The Argo was intercepted. He was sure of that. Tozun would not be going home, a hero. He doubted his body would be returned to his parents. It would not matter to them. His sister-in-law told him that to be a terrorist was contrary to everything Muhammad taught and that suicide bombing–that is, suicide itself, goes against the Islamic religion and is a sin. And to kill innocents is murder and, rightfully so, sinful.
This time several waves passed through him like waves breaking on the shore. Suddenly, Tozun knew what the coil was doing. It was emitting Tesla waves. They must be affecting the remote detonation sequence on the charges. Nothing worked on this doomed mission. Tozun’s friend, Bulut, said that Westerners wrongly believed that Islamic suicide bombers would be rewarded 72 virgins in heaven. Tozun was repulsed by Westerners. They believed anything they heard about Muslims.
Tozun decided that there was one thing left for him to do. There was a hostage tied up in the foc’sle. He was Tozun’s prisoner to be taken back to the group. Tozun carefully and stealthily, walked to the bow, found his prisoner hiding, pulled him out into the open, pulled out his handgun and….
A shot was fired. The report echoed off the handrail along the ship’s bow. The prisoner was still alive. Tozun had disappeared.
Tozun began swimming. His shoulder was bleeding; the bullet had gone clean through. With every stroke his shoulder bled more and the pain was excruciating. Soon he would be food for sharks. His mother once told him that everything happens for a reason.
Once more with feeling #15 at Cognitive Reflection
Word Count: 720
Photo prompt– Credit: o-Blue Moon-o