“When the incendiary first ignited, it showered sparks several feet out. Some of these contained fragments of thermite. They can only ignite at high temperatures and these particles cooled flying through the air. Providing us with the evidentiary samples.”
“How was the explosive delivered?” Weng asked. “Was it a missile or bomb dropped aerially?”
“We’re still trying to figure that out,” Xiang said.
“What about video surveillance of the building?” Weng asked.
“The fire destroyed the cameras on the roof, along with the drives storing the data. But we did recover footage from security cameras on other buildings.”
“I would like to see them,” Weng said.
Deep in the bowels of the neighboring Bank of China building, Weng and the two other men stared at a bank of security monitors. Flanking them were a security official and surveillance operator from the Fuzian Branch of the Bank of China. They were both honored to be in the presence of high-ranking officials from the Chinese intelligence community.
The monitors showed video recordings from various incidental angles of the inferno. One view was from the roof of the thirty-story bank building that happened to capture a large section of the burning roof. Other cameras were in offices several floors down, that could “see” the burning building in the background.
“Were you posted here on the night of the fire?” Weng asked the seated operator.
“Yes, sir. A custodian on the twentieth floor spotted the blaze from the window and radioed it down to security. I triggered the alarm immediately and called the fire department, but the fire spread too fast. I’m sorry, sir.”
“It wasn’t your fault. You may very well have saved the rest of the building, as well as sensitive data belonging to the government.”
Weng turned to Xiang, “Whoever did this knew what they were doing. They intended for the roof to burn quickly, preventing any attempt to extinguish the blaze. Did your cameras detect anyone on the roof before the fire?” Weng asked the seated guard.
“No, sir.”
“How about your watchmen on duty?” Xiang asked the security officer in charge. “Did they see anything unusual?”
The officer shook his head. “No sir.”
“Were there any aircraft passing by or projectiles flying toward the roof of the building?” Weng asked.
“No, sir. It was a quiet night. Nothing was happening. Our building was mostly vacant. I don’t recall any helicopters in the area or anything unusual. My guards also said there were no pedestrians near the building, aside from people leaving work for the evening.”
“Will you show me the feed from the roof of your building at the time just before the fire, please?” Weng asked. It was the monitor that had the best view looking down on the neighboring roof.
“Yes, sir. The recorders are synchronized, so you can see them all just before the fire.” The operator reversed the footage and it sped back rapidly. The roof appeared to rise upward as the building “unburned” itself. The blaze vanished and the building was intact and quiet. The operator then played the videos forward in real time.
Weng’s eyes darted from screen to screen. Looking for anything peculiar. Xiang and Zhi also studied the bank of monitors. One with a view near ground level showed sparks spraying from the roof at the moment of detonation. A brilliant burst illuminated the sky above the building on other monitors. Giving form to the puffy clouds hundreds of feet up. Moments later, the glow from the explosion dissipated to the size of a beach ball — melting through the roof — igniting the top floor of the building. Flames shot upward from the hole in the roof as the glowing orb continued to melt downward.
“Go back to a couple minutes before the fire.”
“Yes, sir.” The operator rewound at a rapid speed.
“Slowly, please,” Weng said.
The video reversed in slow-motion. Weng spotted something— “Stop.” The operator did. Freezing the image. “Now, go forward, slowly if you can.” Weng tapped a smaller monitor. “Make this the main one, please.” The operator moved that image to the much larger main screen. It played in real time. The initial burst of light nearly whited-out the entire frame. “Can you zoom to this area?” The operator zoomed in, and the handrail inexplicably wobbled — one end seeming to break free of its own accord. It dangled over the building’s edge. “Can we see it from higher up? The wide angle?” The operator complied, showing the same moment in time from a higher angle on the main screen. The handrail detached and hung from the building. It jolted again as the bolts broke further down.
“Something is pulling it down.” Weng said.
“What?” Xiang replied.
“Is there footage from a building on that side?” Zhi asked.
Xiang shook his head no. “This is all we have.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Weng said. “Back up a little. Slowly.” The handrail bent back up and froze in place. Undisturbed. “Freeze it there” Weng said. “A view from another building is irrelevant, because we can’t see what’s pulling it down from here.” The operator toggled the video back and forth. It was empty black space all around the railing as it broke free.
“There’s nothing there,” the operator said.
“So, what caused it to break?” Xing asked.
“Tremors from the explosion?” Zhi guessed. “Vibrations from a load-bearing beam beneath it may have caused it to loosen.”
“This soon after the fire, though?” Weng asked. “It’s within thirty seconds after the initial explosion. Keep going backward before the explosion, and stay zoomed-in on the handrail.” The operator did, and the footage crept backward. The blooming glow died out. The handrail was hard to see in the dark. Glints of reflections from the building lights set it apart from the gun-metal sky. The rail wobbled. “What was that?”
The operator played the video and the rail jittered again in real time.
“Something shook it. Before the explosion.” Xiang said.
“Yes. And whatever that something was also placed the incendiary device.” Weng replied.
“Go back to the first handrail wobble and zoom out a little bit, until you can see the area where the explosion occurs. Now play.” Weng said. The footage played forward. Weng intently focused on the blurry network of cables below the satellite dishes.
“Can you sharpen the focus?”
“No. We don’t have that ability.”
“Zoom in here. Did you see it? Back up a little and go forward slowly.”
A black blur of the incendiary device box appeared from thin air. Hovering and seeming to float down toward the pipes containing the cables. The image was so blurry it was hard to confirm anything with certainty. Something dark and blurry definitely moved on its own before coming to a rest on the roof, among the pipes, cables and gravel.
“That’s the device.” Weng said. And in that moment it became clear to him why command hand-picked him for the case. Somebody higher up the chain of command anticipated something that had completely eluded Weng, until now. “Play it again. Slower.” Weng said — more for the benefit of the others than his own. The operator did and the others watched mystified. Weng removed his cell phone from a coat pocket and placed a call… “It’s Officer Weng in Fuzhou. The Phantom was here.” He listened intently to his next orders, dictated over the phone. “Right away, sir.”
Zhi and Xiang exchanged blank gazes as Weng snapped his phone shut, turning to the security officer. “We’re going to need these drives. All of them.”
“They’re all yours.” The security officer replied.
“Please give them to Lieutenant Xiang. If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen, I am required to return immediately.” Weng shook hands with the men, leaving Xiang and Zhi even more bewildered.