A tourist in Paris is very keen to have lunch,

at a restaurant that his friends had raved about on facebook.

He is staying at the Hotel Aida Marias that is just

around from Place de la Republique. Getting on the Metro

at Republique he goes to the Louvre-Musee station.

He arrives at the right boulevarde, following directions from his phone,

The man is surprised to see a lot of cars and people

blocking his access. He asks one of the police officers

what is going on. He is told that the President

is having lunch at the very restaurant he wanted to

visit. The whole area is under lock down and

secret police are everwhere.

The tourist is told to come back tomorrow. He

walks away muttering to himself. Then the tourist sees a strange

sight. Two men park a car in a tow away zone. They get out

of the car and lock it. They look towards the boulevarde

that is blocked off and walks away in the opposite

direction. Thinking this an odd sight, the tourist goes up to

the car and looks into the front window. What he views makes him

run back to the police officer, the one he was talking to earlier.

Explaining quickly what he had witnessed, the tourist takes

the officer back to the car. When the officer looks

into the car he springs into action. Calling for help

over his radio mike, the police officer begins to move

people away from the car. Very quickly a team of strangely

clothed people turn up and scan the car. They 

set up barriers around the car!

The tourist is told to go back to his hotel and wait

to be contacted. He gives the police officer his personal details and

his hotel details. Going back to his hotel via the Metro,

the man is too upset to do as he was told. So he goes for a walk

down the Boulevarde Voltaire to his favourite Cafe,

Finally he returns to his hotel room and a glum future.

Many hours of questioning follow in the days ahead.

The tourist has to tell his story over and over again. He

has to look at hundreds of photos. Almost a week passes before

he is allowed to return to his home in London. He gets the Euro Star

on Monday morning but feels uncomfortable on his arrival home.


One month later, the tourist is surprised when he gets an invitation

to go to the French Embassy. There he is given a special reception

and an official thank you. He is told that the car, that he had

pointed out, had been filled with enough explosives to blow

up an entire block. The car had been planted just where the French President

would have passed just one hour later.

Returning to his home, the man was congratulating himself when

a cold feeling came over him. He had just seen the face of a man

out of the corner of his eye. He was sure that it was the face of

one of the men he saw leave the car in Paris. And the man had been coming

from the direction of his home.

Suddenly questions flooded into his mind. How did they find him? Who the

hell where "they"? Was it now safe to go home?

Memories started to flood back. At the French embassy, he had

thought that the ceremony was too drawn out. Some of the speeches seemed

to be unnecessary. When he had tried to give his excuses and leave early,

the French police liason officer had grabbed his arm and led him to

talk to the President's aide de camp. She was very attractive and very interested

in talking to him at length. She had even hinted that he could take her home.

Reluctantly he had decided that she was out of his class and left alone.

But now he was getting paranoid, thinking that he had seen that

aide reach for her phone as he was leaving. Supposing she had called

someone to warn them? But who would she report to and why him?

      Telling himself not to be so stupid, the man began walking towards his home.

But he was subconciously walking very slowly. Then there was an explosion and he

was thrown to the ground. Looking up from his prone position, the man saw 

a big hole where his home once used to stand. 

       As the emergency people arrived, the man was checked out by ambulance paramedics,

given a blanket and asked an unending stream of questions by the police. Questions he had no reasonable chance of answering. The police were not impressed with his statement and clarifications.

They would pass on his name to their superiors. but those superiors received a phone call.

The message came down the chain of command. Leave this one to Mi5. 

        The man went to his sisters place and told her what had happened to his home.

The next morning he scanned the newspapers but all he found was a short report of yet another

gas explosion. His address was given as the destroyed property. The news report said that the owner was in the house when it happened. As the man slowly absorbed this startling report of his own

death, his mobile phone rang. When he answered it was to be told that someone from the police needed to talk to him. Due to the sensitive nature of the matter being investigated,

the police officer suggested she visit him at his sister's place. Still in shock, the man agreed.

Only later did he wonder how that woman knew where he was staying. He had not told

anyone at the scene of the explosion. Again he began to get paranoid.


        Luckily for his peace of mind, the woman arrived almost imediately after the call.

She explained that she was not a police officer but an operative for Mi5. As he reeled from that

surprise, she explained that he was now a target of a foreign intelligence agency.

She could not tell him which one because it was a state secret. But she assured him that his life was in danger. Her solution was to take him, without delay, to a safe house. After she settled him down, the woman introduced him to his minders. Then she left him for the night. Stlll in the aftermath of shock, the man finally fell asleep. When he woke in the morning, the first thing he noticed was the absence of his minders. Getting worried, he went to look for them and found that they were both dead. Their necks were broken. The man panicked and raced out of the house. He went to the nearest bus stop and caught the first bus that came along. All day, the man kept changing buses.

          By nightfall, the man had calmed down. His mind had come up with the perfect hiding place. 

The man had passed his old primary school in one of his bus trips. He knew the bus number that would get him back there. So he caught that bus and broke into his old school. That was where he

spent the night.