The Atlanta street was bustling with activity as cars drove by, and people walked up and down the sidewalks on either side. Many were going in and out of the local lesbian club, The Otherside. With the holidays past, and people beginning the ritual of thawing out, this particular Friday evening was busier than usual.

A dark haired man in his mid-20s, looking nervous and anxious, walked to the front door of the club. He hesitated before entering, looking back down both sides of the street to see if anyone was watching him. He only saw a white car parked across the street, his companion sitting in the driver’s seat, waiting for him. The young man knew that while the chances of his being watched did exist; the odds were very low and highly doubtful for this one evening. He also knew that, after tonight, he would become a part of history, the type of history generally listed as a footnote to the larger, more important events of the time. For him though, he was the big picture of history at the moment so, caution was the word for the night; nothing was to stop him.

 

 

Finally, he saw a glass door leading out to a patio where there were tables with stools around them. As he walked out onto it, he saw a table in the corner with one stool, and it was empty. It was perfect for him to sit at while killing time, waiting for the magic moment when he could give his gift properly.

 

He placed his knapsack under the stool and sat down to watch the men and women talk to and fondle each other. Actually, the bar, itself, didn’t seem to be any different from the straight ones he’d been to. Only the people in this one were different.

 

 

Sweat began to run down the young man’s face, a clear sign he was very nervous about what he was going to do. The patio crowd thinned out due to a cold wind picking up and yet, the man sweated like it was summer and the sun was beating down on him alone. Looking around, he slowly and carefully slid off his stool and bent down to the backpack. He opened the top just enough to slide a hand in and flip a switch to activate a timer. It began ticking down the one minute he had to leave the bar safely before everyone else noticed his present. Satisfied that the timer was working, and with fifty-five seconds to go, he pushed the knapsack further under the stool. Casually, he stood and then, he headed out of the place.

 

 

“BOOOOOOM!!!” One large, pulsating sound then, a brief second of silence before the screaming and the panic began.

 

The terrorist was gone, but his companion had left another package for the emergency crews to find at just the right moment to cause more panic and confusion. Luckily, the rescue team had found it, they were in time to clear the area before they dealt with it.

 

Before they left Georgia, headed west on Interstate 10, the terrorists switched vehicles four times to make sure the police couldn’t catch them. They had been prepared, and they were confident their job had been successful. It would actually be several days before they found out just how well they’d done.