GREG ARRIVED AT THE SITE and it was a disaster, not comparable to September 11th, but he knew how to recognize an attack when he saw one.
— Greg, we think it was...
— I know, but we can't say it was a terrorist attack.
— But...
— There's no but, Martin, the truth in our world was born to remain in the shadows.
The sad news was already echoing around the world. Numerous television channels were covering the case in their news programs. The FBI was still silent about the possibility that it had been a terrorist attack. Strangely, no cell or family had come forward to take responsibility for the case.
Greg Evans considered the possibility that some explosive or flammable material present in the van's cargo, together with the unfortunate failure of some electrical system, could have been the cause. Government experts were studying the scene and the wreckage, looking for any clues that could direct the investigation and provide some information that would ease the public pressure.
— Greg... there is no one more qualified than you to be in charge of this right now — said the president.
— Yes sir... I just don't think it's a good idea for you to make any comments until we have more details about the facts.
— I will do that, Greg.
The news reported that President Kenan Vaine would not comment until everything was confirmed.
EVEN WITH THE tense atmosphere after the strange event on Friday, the New York Marathon was held for Sunday. The government did not want to let the people's spirits wane, and the event was important.
Although they were wary, people showed up in large numbers to watch the great race. As always, a certain joy filled the atmosphere of the event, people were able to forget their problems for a while by joining in the cheering.
A huge crowd surrounded the streets that made up the circuit. Professional photographers tried to compete with their smartphone lenses for the best angles of the competitors. Balloons of all colors and other props decorated every corner of the competition. It was more of a party than a sporting event.
The starting gun was fired. The professional runners took the lead, followed by the amateurs who tried to catch up and, much later, by the others who just wanted to participate and wave to the cameras. They quickly spread out through the streets, following the path that led to the finish line.
The event had already started half an hour ago. The world's favorites had already progressed much of the way and were now visiting new groups of photographers and admirers on the following streets. The leading runners were in a line, in a fierce competition for victory. They turned a corner carefully so as not to lose their rhythm and took a breath to continue. They were cheered by the fans who waved happily from behind the banners, but there was no saving them, the impact of the explosion also reached them.
A bomb exploded on the sidewalk just as the leaders of the competition were passing by. The cries that had previously been of celebration and encouragement for the marathon runners were replaced by tears and despair.
Amazed, those who were able to stand up to help others or pull the fences that were blocking the spectators. Some less humane photographers and cameramen insisted on recording the tragedy while aid was being given to the injured. That stretch of the street turned red.
Ambulances arrived without delay to help, many were already on standby. Once again, the world saw the American tragedy of terror.
Hours later, after the count of the number of people being treated, the newspapers reported a total of five deaths and around two hundred and eighty injured. People of all ages had become victims.
The authorities were going crazy. All hell broke loose when a video of a man dressed in Middle Eastern clothing began to play:
— Don't you think we've forgotten what they did to us... this is just the beginning.