The bomb disposal technicians were leaving the apartment for the second time. Commissioner Zhou was waiting for them at the door.
The bomb inspector in his coveralls and flak jacket was sweating profusely, not surprising considering the nature of his job and that the air-conditioning was off and the windows smashed. “Comrade Commissioner, there are no explosive devices in the apartment.”
“So you said before,” Commissioner Zhou replied.
The inspector took a step back but did not retreat. “Comrade Commissioner, we have examined the refrigerator carefully. There was no bomb-triggering mechanism. Peroxide-based improvised explosive is very unstable, especially at higher temperatures. So it is commonly kept in a cool place. It is possible that this material was left in the refrigerator and the State Security officer somehow disturbed it.”
Commissioner Zhou admired the inspector’s courage in attempting to save his face, but let his own face say that he did not fully believe the story. “And this explosive is that unstable?”
“Yes, Comrade Commissioner. It could easily detonate if not handled carefully.”
“How much of it would cause this damage?”
“Only a few grams, Comrade Commissioner.”
“Be serious.”
“It is very powerful. Any more would have completely destroyed the apartment.”
“So you theorize that this was residue left from a much larger batch of explosive?”
“Yes, Comrade Commissioner.”
“Then which of you checked the refrigerator the last time?”
The inspector hesitated. “Comrade Commissioner, the man is a 1st Grade Officer who has just graduated from bomb school. He saw the bowl in the refrigerator, with paper in it, and did not realize what he was seeing. The explosive is not common in our country, and is not taught in our basic school. The paper is used to filter the explosive from a liquid solution.”
“This is how you know it was only a few grams?” The story always emerged in small pieces, and always under pressure.
“Yes, Comrade Commissioner.”
“And the type of explosive?”
“Yes, Comrade Commissioner. The chemical analysis will prove it.”
“Can you determine how much was made?”
“It depends upon the number of batches, Comrade Commissioner. Based on the size of the bowl, less than 150 grams in one batch. It is much safer to make many small batches.”
“It is easy to make?”
“Easy but hazardous, Comrade Commissioner. But it is possible that only a small amount was made in order to ignite another type of explosive, due to its sensitivity.”
Commissioner Zhou opened his notebook and removed the list of purchases traced to Avakian. ‘Tell me what you see here.”
The inspector examined the list carefully. “Comrade Commissioner, the hair bleach would be the source of the peroxide. The other ingredients are not here.”
“What ingredients?”
“Either acetone and sulfuric acid, or citric acid and hexamine.”
“Easy to obtain, then.”
“Very easy, Comrade Commissioner. This large amount of swimming pool cleaner indicates another explosive. But the other ingredients are also not listed.”
“And they are?”
“Nitromethane fuel used to power model cars. Or common naphtha.”
“So this would bear out your theory of two different explosives.”
The inspector was experiencing both relief and newfound confidence. “Yes, Comrade Commissioner. Using the peroxide explosive would make the swimming pool bleach easier to detonate, and also increase its velocity. The pipe listed here would contain the explosive material.”
“Why would the suspect purchase a large amount of flashlights?”
“To construct firing mechanisms, Comrade Commissioner.”
“What kind?”
“Any kind. Timer, impact, pressure, trip wire, antidisturbance.”
The inspector fell silent as Commissioner Zhou paused to think. “You have redeemed yourself, Inspector. Look again at the list and tell me of any additional impressions.”
“The amount of explosive could make one large bomb or many smaller ones, Comrade Commissioner. But based on the amount and diameter of this pipe, I would say many smaller ones. Unless his intent was to deceive us with the quantities.”
“Why would anyone carry so much pipe about when they did not have to?”
This served to remind the inspector that his field was explosives, not investigation. “You are right, of course, Comrade Commissioner.”
“How many bombs?”
“It would depend on how he cuts the pipe, Comrade Commissioner. If the same general size as the dummy device he left here, then possibly between twenty-five and forty.”
This gave Commissioner Zhou a sinking feeling. But the inspector had been invaluable despite his mistakes. Because all this information was new to him. The explosives section of the Ministry Department of Science and Technology had not yet delivered their report on the list. Finding the explosive in the refrigerator intact would have been just as valuable. And what might they have been able to recover from the carpet before the explosion? That fool Shen. Which reminded him. “What is Colonel Shen’s condition?” he asked Inspector Cheng, who waited at his side like a watchdog.
“Very poor. He did not regain consciousness, and it will take time for the ambulance to reach the hospital at this time of day.”
A reminder that Chinese drivers did not yield for ambulances. What an interesting twist of fate, to have Shen incapacitated and General Liang disgraced by cowardice. He would certainly not be heartbroken if Shen died, but a description of the contents of that refrigerator would have been useful. No matter. “Inspector He, take your men inside again. The crime scene is most likely ruined, but do your best.”
“Yes, Comrade Commissioner.”
This left Commissioner Zhou with something else to ponder. Avakian obviously believed that the police would find this place. Quite possibly he left the explosive in the refrigerator because he had no easy way to dispose of it. But he could have booby-trapped the apartment to kill any number of investigators. Instead he left a joke.
He had known from their first meeting that the American was totally unpredictable. Which had unsettled everyone during the conference security negotiations, because Chinese were very predictable. Doubly unsettling was that Avakian knew just how predictable they were.
Now he would have to begin again to locate Avakian’s new hiding place. And if those bombs began to explode the pressure would shift from Avakian to himself. Planting many bombs he would have to be seen by someone. He would have to. Unfortunately the Chinese people were eager witnesses but just as eager not to come forward and expose themselves to the authorities. That left a new sinking feeling. Perhaps Avakian had been seen by the two missing police officers. Their vehicle could not have been moved far…
No, he told himself. Not the search for a new hiding place. He had been thinking predictably, and therefore incorrectly. So many bombs meant Avakian had decided to fight them on behalf of his country. He should have foreseen this. Such a man, a career soldier. Commissioner Zhou was filled with admiration, imagining himself attempting to do the same in Washington, unable to speak English.
Two possibilities remained. Had Avakian decided to fight them in Beijing until he was killed, or would he fight and then attempt to flee? And did he still have the woman doctor with him?
Now there would have to be television, radio and newspaper appeals so he would not be able to purchase more explosive materials. This would also saddle them with thousands of worthless clues. Checkpoints throughout the city, to curtail his movements. And then slowly and surely run him to ground. Not the elegant hunt he had envisioned, but the Center would demand results. And authorize any resources he demanded. If he were in command of the equivalent of a brigade of police then they would have to make him a commissioner 1st grade. With a favorable result, a deputy general commissioner’s stars would be his. Or, he reminded himself, they would remove him and appoint a commissioner 1st grade in his place.
The security checkpoints on all the roads leaving the city would have to be strengthened. And the trafficable areas between them patrolled.
Commissioner Zhou could hardly believe it. One man challenging them all to combat.
“Comrade Commissioner?”
Commissioner Zhou had been leaning against the wall with his eyes closed. “What?”
Inspector Cheng said, “The Central Dispatcher is reporting explosions all over the city.”
That woke Commissioner Zhou up. So quickly. “Where? How many?”
“The radio traffic is incredible, and there is much confusion. Trains have run over bombs. Other explosions have been underground. At first it was thought that these were gas leaks, but there are too many in too many different places.”
He could understand the rail lines. But underground? To what purpose? Bombs randomly placed on the streets would create more havoc. “Inspector, send someone to their vehicle for a city map. Assign two men to monitor the radio and record the locations of the explosions.”
“The firemen, who were waiting in case they were needed again, were crowded around their own radio. “What news?” Commissioner Zhou asked.
“Explosions in manholes, Comrade Commissioner,” one of them said.
“Gas lines on fire?” said Commissioner Zhou.
“Some,” said the fireman. “But more streets flooded.”
“Flooded?”
“Water and sewer lines broken, Comrade Commissioner.”
“Nothing makes people more angry than water shut off to make repairs,” another added.
“Nothing,” they all confirmed.
The realization arrived on the tail of the firemen’s last words. Commissioner Zhou dashed into the apartment. He went straight for the bathroom and twisted both taps open. Water gushed out. Then sputtered, hissing air. Then stopped completely. The magnitude of it staggered him. Whole sections of the city without water. The people rushing out of their homes to buy any available liquids. And with the day ending, the necessary officials and workers on their way home. Less than three hours before darkness. The panic if this lasted more than a day. The effort required to bring in and distribute water to the city. Trains halted. Roads jammed, especially at the highway checkpoints. One man. And he must have done it in one night. Incredible. He must have a plan.
Holding on to the sides of the sink, Commissioner Zhou looked at himself in the mirror. And said out loud, “He will run.”