Today marks a tragic event in human history. I wanted to talk about how I feel about it, and I found it best to write about it in the perspective of Cyrus Hale, an old CIA officer, as his point of view on the matter matches my own. This short story is dedicated to the victims of 9/11 and all of the servicemen and first responders that serve us today.

Cyrus Hale is a character from the Spy School universe, and thus is owned by Stuart Gibbs.

Cover photo comes from the following hyperlink: https://www.health.mil/News/Gallery/Photos/2016/09/11/Pentagon-Flag

New York City, New York

September 11

0615 hours

Cyrus POV

It was a chilly morning in New York City. The sun was yet to peek over the horizon. And me? I was walking down West Broadway, having just crossed Barclay St.

Out of habit, I looked around, studying the environment around me. New York City: when a foreign national hears of the United States of America, they automatically think of this city. I'm not surprised in the slightest, considering that this has historically been America's gateway. Millions have come through this city, seeking citizenship in this nation.

The city is also somewhat of an enigma. As coined by Jacob Riis and sang by Frank Sinatra, this is a city that never sleeps. It's always busy, never quiet.

I hate cities like this. From the perspective of a CIA Paramilitary Operations Officer, urban operations are immensely difficult, thanks to all the hustle and bustle. There is too much background noise, too many civilians. There's too much danger of losing a target or causing collateral damage. From the perspective of a man just trying to live his life (off-duty, at least), it's pretty much the same reasons as earlier. I'm astounded at the fact that people actually manage to sleep despite all this hullabaloo. Further, there is the fact that I don't trust anybody. You may be able to conceal yourself easily, but so can your enemy, and I've racked up plenty over the years.

Yet, cities like this have one amazing characteristic that I can respect: resilience. This is the greatest strength of New York City, and all other metropolises. Especially when disaster strikes.

Like the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001.

I finally reached my destination: 180 Greenwich St.

The site of the 9/11 Memorial and Museum.

Four passenger airliners, all of which were bound for California, were hijacked by terrorists. Two planes, American Airlines Flight 11 and United Airlines Flight 175, crashed into the North and South towers, respectively, of the World Trade Center. A third plane, American Airlines, crashed into the Pentagon. The fourth plane, United Airlines Flight 93, actually had a target in Washington, DC, but the passengers thwarted the terrorists.

It was the single deadliest terrorist attack in human history and the single deadliest incident for firefighters (343 killed) and law enforcement officers (72 killed) in US history. In total 2,977 died and there were over 25,000 injuries and substantial long-term health consequences.

The World Trade Center had seen one attack earlier on February 26, 1993, with a truck bombing. It largely failed in its efforts of mass destruction, but it still caused substantial damage to the complex and worse, killed seven, including an unborn child, and injured over one thousand.

I saw the names as I walked by the pools. Most were men and women I never knew, nor would I ever meet. Except for two.

First, John P. O'Neill, a former assistant director of the FBI. He assisted in the capture of the 1993 WTC bomber Ramzi Yousef, and was head of security at the WTC when the attacks happened. He died in his efforts to rescue people from the North Tower.

John was a good man. I had worked with him several times when we were executing counterterrorism missions in the United States. Over the course of several joint operations, we became good friends, and remained in touch even when he went into the private sector. I never called too many people my friends, and he was one of them.

Second, Lt. General Timothy Maude, an Army Deputy Chief of Staff. He was at a meeting in the Pentagon when Flight 77 crashed into the west side of the building, killing him.

Tim and I have worked together a few times. When he became an officer, he served a year in South Vietnam. I was leading one of the teams from the CIA's Special Activities Division Special Operations Group. I provided him with intelligence while he provided me with logistical support. Even after he moved stateside, we still kept in touch from time to time, and got together for coffee and skeet. Like with John, I considered Tim one of my few friends.

On that fateful day, I saw the attacks on national television. I have never been more scared and enraged in my life. I was retired. But my blood was boiling. Barely three hours later, I called the director. I wanted back in.

When I later found out that John and Tim were among the fatalities, I was more determined than ever to declare war on terror.

This was why I got back in the fight. There was a new enemy. One that wore no uniforms, one that had no rules of engagement.

One that had absolutely no qualms with targeting noncombatants, civilians.

These enemies are not soldiers. The duty of soldiers is to protect the innocent. These are terrorists. They target the innocent.

The rules have changed.

Erica, Alex, and the rest all think that I came out of retirement when SPYDER went after Ripley during his first summer.

It's a lie.

I've been back in the fight longer than anyone realizes.

As the sun rises, its beams shine over the water of the pools, turning them gold. I see the American flag raised nearby. I turn and slowly salute both the flag and the memorial.

This sunrise heralds not only a new day, but a rebirth.

9/11 was our nation's darkest time. But it was our strength as individuals, as a community, as a nation, that allowed us to overcome. It is what allows us to continue to fight today.

I will never forget the attack, nor will I ever forget who I'm fighting for: for the fallen, for the wounded, for Americans and fellow humans of the past, present, and future.

I've been back in the game since September 11, 2001.

And I'm staying in it until the end.

I owe it to them all.

Author's Note:

John P. O'Neill and Lt. General Timothy Maude are real victims of the 9/11 attacks. Everything said about them, barring Cyrus's interactions and friendships with them—considering that Cyrus is a fictional character—is real.

Please observe a minute's worth of silence for the victims of the 9/11 attacks.

Remember those who lost their lives, and remember those who gave their lives.

If you know any first responders or servicemen, thank them immediately for their service and show your appreciation. From law enforcement officers to firefighters to medical personnel to soldiers to sailors to Marines to airmen to guardsmen... these brave souls are born of a different cloth, sacrificing so much so they can defend their communities, their nation, their people.

We as everyday citizens may not be the ones directly fighting the War on Terror at home and abroad, nor are we the ones watching over society on a daily basis, but—as the people they protect—we owe these men and women our support, our compassion, our fellowship. We cannot dehumanize them, not when they are the ones protecting us. Because if we do that, then the terrorists have won.

Speaking as a proud American, I am proud to call these men and women my countrymen. No matter how different we are, we are all brothers and sisters, united under one flag.

My fellow Americans, and our friends of other nations who have stood with us to fight back against terrorism... I salute you.

Stay safe, everyone.

And never forget.

This song sums up how I feel. This is dedicated to all the servicemen and first responders of the past, present, and future.

https://youtu.be/Ps7xmW-9LXQ