[ WP ] Write the backstory , or immediate aftermath , to the white flags appearing on the Brooklyn Bridge .

The flag continued to ripple in the breeze. 
 
 The American flags, proudly stationed atop the Brooklyn Bridge, acted as a symbol. And in post 9/11 America, a symbol is exactly what we needed. 
 
 I looked at the flags for a long time. Finally, my phone rang. I answered, still looking at those flags. 
 
 `` Tonight is the night,'' the voice said. The broken English and heavy accent indicated this was the same man I had spoken to a month ago. 
 
 `` Yes,'' I answered. `` I'm ready.'' 
 
 `` As am I'' he said. We both sat on the phone silently for a moment. I watched those flags wave in the breeze. 
 
 `` You'll leave the letter?'' I asked. I could hear muffled noises. 
 
 `` Yes,'' he replied. `` As will the rest of them.'' 
 
 I nodded. `` Good.'' I said. 
 
 `` Allahu Akbar'' he said. 
 
 `` God be with you,'' I answered. 
 
 I hung up the phone. I picked up the bundle of bags beside me and walked to the edge. Looking out over the water, I slung the bags over my back and began to climb. 
 
 The wind picked up as soon as I was above the railing. It was freezing cold. I continued to ascend, until I reached the first platform. In order to cross to the flags, a four inch cable stretched between platforms. 
 
 Reaching down, I grabbed the clip from my waistband. It was connected to the harness I wore. I clipped into the top cable, and tentatively stepped on the bottom one. 
 
 The cable bounced and swayed in the wind. Moving slowly, I inched my way across the cable. A quarter mile seemed like nothing on the ground, yet it may has well have been a world away now. The wind pushed against me, and the weight of the bundle threatened to throw me off. 
 
 I kept moving forward, my hands felt sore from the grip. I paused near the middle to rest. Looking down, I could see cars pass below. I began to get nauseated. I continued to move. 
 
 Finally, after what felt like days, I reached the flag platform. A few steps up, and I could see it billowing above me. I dismantled the coupling and pulled it down. Wrapping it up, I removed the bag from my back and unzipped it. Inside were two bleach bags. I shoved the American flag inside and shook it. 
 
 After a few minutes, the American flag was relatively white. I pulled it out, bleach dripping all over my clothes. I reattached the coupling and raised it. Bleach flew off the end in the wind, and it stretched out. 
 
 Nodding, I zipped up the bag and moved carefully to the wire. Another long walk and I was back to the first platform. I made my way down the ladder. Finally on the ground, I took a moment to admire it. From this distance, it looked like a different flag. 
 
 I hopped on my motorcycle and took off on the footpath to the other end of the bridge. My hands were sweating, yet it felt so cold. I reached the other side, and parked. Ensuring the bag was tight against me, I began to climb again. 
 
 When I reached the platform, I clipped in. This time the walk across the wire was shorter, as I knew what to expect. I reached the steps and climbed up. With the same movements, I bleached the other flag. 
 
 I reattached the coupling and raised it. I looked across the bridge. In the night sky, I could see the first white flag flying high. I was proud, in this moment, and a tear rolled down my cheek. I made my way to the wire and began moving out. 
 
 Suddenly, a huge gust of wind blew and my foot slipped. I grabbed for the top wire and missed. I felt myself fall off the cable. The safety harness snagged and caught me, just feet past the bottom cable. I sat there, breathing heavy, thankful to be alive. I looked up, and fear hit me. The clip was dangling open; in my haste I had forgotten to close it. 
 
 I hesitantly reached up for the bottom cable, but I was inches too far. I decided I needed to make a move, in order to get back to the platform. I jumped for the cable. 
 
 At that moment, the release of the weight on the clip made it bounce off the top. For seconds, I was suspended in mid-air, hand outstretched for the bottom cable. 
 
 I missed. My heart jumped into my throat as I looked down, and began to fall. The wind gusted and turned me on my back. It would be minutes before I hit the ground. 
 
 The flag continued to ripple in the breeze. 
 *** 
 Agent Shanan took the report from the officer. He scanned it over. 
 
 His partner, Agent Moynehan, walked up beside him. 
 
 `` Suicide?'' Moynehan said. 
 
 Shanan shook his head. `` No,'' he replied. `` This was a highly coordinated effort.'' 
 
 Moynehan took the report. His jaw dropped. 
 
 > *Deceased was found on the ground 13ft 4in away from the base of the access ladder. White flags flying on both ends of the Bridge. * 
 > 
 > *Found in the bag were documents suggesting a coordinated effort with other agents across the world. * 
 
 Moynehan turned the page, and saw a single legal pad sheet with a handwritten letter. 
 
 > *We are citizens of the world. These are our demands. * 
 > 
 > *Along with this note you will find White Flags of Peace flying. These flags are placed not just at the Brooklyn Bridge, but at other sites around the world. Temples, Mosques, and other religious sites all have the same flags flying today. We want no more war. As citizens of the world, we demand our leaders end the conflict. We demand peace. * 
 
 Moynehan shook his head. `` This will never fly,'' he said. 
 
 Shanan nodded. He spoke, `` Tell the press we do n't know anything. Let them make up their own stories. Classify what you have there, get this body out of here. Leave it vague enough that it captures interest for a moment.'' 
 
 Moynehan nodded. `` Sure thing,'' he said. `` What then?'' 
 
 Shanan looked at the body lying on the ground. 
 
 `` Then,'' he said. `` Some other story will happen and no one will remember this. Which is exactly what we want.'' 

