But even a man like Kehoe couldn’t fight the clock, and the past twenty hours had taken some of the polish off his chrome. He was in the process of telling everyone to play nice with one another—and he emphasized that this included other agencies: federal, state, and municipal. “I expect a lot of jurisdictional cross-chatter, but I don’t want snakes and ladders to hobble our efforts—if things get tied up, I want you to consult Legal to work them out. This is going to chew up all the media cycles for the next while and we can’t make any mistakes.”
Kehoe stopped the chatter with a raised hand. “The specific cause of the explosion has been determined to be a thermobaric bomb. You might remember the first publicly acknowledged operational use of the MOAB—which is the military designation for Massive Ordnance Air Blast, dubbed the ‘Mother of All Bombs’ in the media—by our military forces in Afghanistan on April 13, 2017. The device used in the Guggenheim explosion was a scaled-down and custom-made version of the MOAB.” Delivery was getting better with each syllable that rolled out of his mouth—exhaustion giving way to instinct.
“A thermobaric explosion is relatively simple to achieve, and functions under the same general mechanics as a grain silo explosion—with a little massaging to increase damage.” Kehoe took a sip of tea from his mug. “In this particular instance, the flammable particles were delivered as aluminum confetti dropped from a snowmaker—a device used in movies and television to create weather for the camera.” With that verbal prompt, the screens went live with an HD image of the confetti machine suspended below the blown-out skylight. The four massive steel drums now looked like what they were—bombs.
“TEDAC is taking the delivery system apart one bolt at a time, and so far they’ve confirmed that the chemical composition of the confetti used as the combustible was a thin slice of aluminum backed with a laundry list of other components, mostly tweaked magnesium molecules that accelerated the burn rate, magnifying the pressure wave of the explosion. The banners that hung from the ceiling were also of the same manufacture. The drum gears were modified to create a static charge after a certain number of rotations—about seventy turns—when most of the foil was dispersed.” Kehoe put his tea down. “Besides the massive loss of life, somewhere around a billion dollars’ worth of art was destroyed.”
Seven hundred and two dead people: a ripple of murmurs—lost dollar signs: actual gasps.
Kehoe lifted an eyebrow and all chatter stopped. “Many of these pieces were on loan from private individuals, but there were also corporate loans on the roster. The loss of these works means we can’t discount insurance fraud or some complicated confidence scam as a component.”
Kehoe put his hands on either side of the podium and leaned forward. A picture of the Guggenheim appeared on the monitors around the room. “The company that was hosting the gala—Horizon Dynamics—is a privately owned corporation that was going public this morning; the IPO was expected to trade at somewhere around half a billion dollars, and the gala was a presale celebration. Horizon Dynamics specialized in environmental risk assessment and the rejuvenation of ecosystems damaged by industry, specifically former petroleum extraction and bauxite mining sites. They lost all of their top people and most of their mid-level management; they will not be bouncing back from this. Because we are looking at a crime that has ramifications in the billions of dollars, we will be closely partnering our efforts with the SEC, the IRS, the U.S. Postal Inspection Service, the CFTC, and the Treasury Department’s Financial Crimes Enforcement Network, since they are used to looking at crimes from a dollars-and-cents perspective. So far, all concerned haven’t come up with any sort of a lead.
“So until we have evidence to the contrary, we are classifying this as an act of terrorism—with the specific motivating ideology still unknown. Our Joint Terrorism Task Force will be coordinating with the usual outside agencies, and we’ve reached out to every foreign intelligence agency on the planet through the DOJ and the DHS. So far we’re looking for a crime that was orchestrated by people who don’t seem to exist, which means we don’t know if they are foreign or domestic. The complicated nature of the attack suggests that we are looking for several individuals or a group.
“All the early indicators are that the attack was too complicated and well executed to have been carried out by Islamic fundamentalists; most of the known groups are too unsophisticated to have done this. We’re not writing them off, but this looks more like the kind of thing a foreign-state-funded actor would do. Another possibility that has been brought to my attention is that we might be looking at a group of eco-fascists—check the updates.” With that he turned to Lucas and eyed him for a moment. “When looking at evidence, a good way to put it is to not only look for the things that are there, but for the things that aren’t.
“We have teams interviewing everyone from the event planner to museum employees to delivery personnel. We’re looking at the confetti supplier, the company that built the snowmaker, and the transport people that delivered it. Our agents are talking to absolutely everyone and anyone in the supply chain for both the gala and the Guggenheim.”
Kehoe nodded and the displays cycled up photos of the scene outside the police tape at the Guggenheim—people holding up conspiracy signs and QAnon placards. There were plenty of crazed expressions and spelling mistakes. “These people are going to be the biggest obstacle you face out there—we’re combing social media and message boards, chat rooms and comments sections, and they are pumping out disinformation, misinformation, and lies at a rate we can’t keep up with.
“We’ve already had two tourists beaten unconscious after they were incorrectly identified as suspects by online digilantes. Unfortunately, those people are the gift that keeps on giving, and we can expect more problems because of them. You all know how social media clogs up the gears of a good investigation, and with this many victims and so much global curiosity, be prepared for the worst from people. Expect innocent people to be attacked and expect mob thinking. The conspiracy fools at the crime scene are just the beginning—I fully expect their numbers to grow into a sizable problem in both the virtual as well as the actual world. Again, if you’re not sure about something—ask.” He stepped away from the podium and Lucas knew this was where he would try to make everyone feel like a big family. Kehoe stopped and nodded at Lucas. “Which brings me to Dr. Page, who is standing at the back with our own Special Agent Whitaker.”
Lucas didn’t bother waving. He just nodded a single time and kept his focus on Kehoe, who continued.
“I am sure those of you who were here last winter during the New York sniper case remember Dr. Page. He is a mathematician—an astrophysicist, actually—and is here as an independent consultant. His methods are not always obvious, and I don’t want anyone giving him any grief if he asks for something.” He turned back to his people, clapped his hands once, and was back in command mode. “Please keep your phones and computers synced and read all updates. If you don’t know something or you need something, ask. From here on out, all briefings will be delivered by the special agent in charge—you all know Samir Chawla.” He nodded over at Chawla, then turned off the mic, picked up his mug of tea, and stepped away from the podium.