Benmethyl dimethylamine. Owen silently committed the name to memory.
After Nathan left, CTU's investigation was split into two major directions: identifying the two suspects and tracing the source of the explosives.
As dawn broke, they had been working tirelessly for a full night, and the case was finally beginning to take shape.
After 7 a.m., Tony's phone rang nonstop—calls from the mayor, the governor, Jack Bauer, and the media.
The bombing at the Los Angeles premiere had, overnight, become a national sensation. Reporters even spent the entire night camped outside the CTU headquarters, hoping to scrape together any first-hand info.
Owen had just phoned his two best contacts in the LAPD—Carlos and Carl—asking them to keep an eye out for anything related to explosives.
The more sources, the better. Carlos, a member of Major Crimes, had connections in the intelligence division and his own network of informants. Carl worked patrol and frequently dealt with street-level crooks—he might hear something useful.
Earlier, forensics had confirmed that the abandoned SUV contained no usable evidence. It was a stolen vehicle—no fingerprints, no hair, no traces at all. The suspect's counter-surveillance skills were clearly top-notch.
Soon after, Carlos called back.
A warehouse owned by a plumbing contractor had been robbed a few days ago. The company filed a report, but it wasn't a major crime and didn't fall under Major Crimes' jurisdiction. However, Carlos—being the nephew of Police Chief Wayne Haviland—held considerable sway within the department. He'd asked various divisions to keep an eye out and tipped off some other precincts. The result: a lead.
"Grab something to write this down. Newman Pipe Engineering Company, address: *** Street, number ***."
"Thanks, man. You're a lifesaver."
Carlos was busy and hung up quickly. Owen and Heartbeat looked at the address and drove off.
Meanwhile…
Under pressure from multiple angles, Tony Almeida decided to hold a brief press conference outside CTU to update the public.
Of course, the content had been carefully coordinated with the PR department. Tony didn't intend to share any real details—his sole goal was to deliver a clear message: The case is progressing. We're in control.
Behind the scenes, similar strategies were already in motion. Just like during the Zhongchen Tower incident, public focus couldn't remain fixed on a single topic forever.
Back then, the media had been distracted with the outing of a certain A-list celebrity. This time, another public figure was likely about to get thrown under the bus. PR was already preparing the narrative.
Since David Palmer had taken office, CTU's resources had expanded significantly. With a beefier budget and more complete departmental structure, CTU was finally functioning like a top-tier federal agency.
On the outskirts of Los Angeles, inside a small house…
The TV in the living room was on, showing news coverage of the bombing.
"This is Koval reporting for CBC. A bomb detonated during the premiere of Universal's new action film Die Hard, based on a real-life event. The explosion killed four and injured twenty-three. CTU has yet to issue a public statement…"
"Hi everyone, I'm Angela, reporting live from the corridor of Mary General Hospital. As you can see behind me, the number of wounded is substantial. The bombing at last night's Universal premiere has shocked the city, and though CTU is in charge of the investigation, 12 hours later there's still no official update…"
"Experts suggest the attack may be linked to the Zhongchen Tower hostage crisis, as Die Hard is based on that very event…"
"Following the attack, real estate stocks have plunged across several markets, indicating growing public concern over safety in Los Angeles…"
On the couch, the Asian man seen at the premiere and the white man in sunglasses were flipping through channels. Just as CTU had suspected—they were indeed working together. The bombing was their handiwork.
Nearly every news outlet was covering the event, each with its own spin.
News channels focused on the investigation. Financial outlets analyzed the ripple effects on the markets. But all of them mentioned the connection between the bombing and the film Die Hard, giving the movie free publicity.
The result? Die Hard exploded in popularity. Some netizens even bragged they'd "risked their lives" to attend the screening. This became an online trend—fueling ticket sales. Discussions about the original Zhongchen Tower incident also resurfaced, and since CTU had played a role in that operation, it too found itself in the national spotlight.
Inside a side room, the bespectacled bomb maker was fiddling with equipment when—
Heavy footsteps echoed outside. The door was kicked open, and he was yanked into the living room.
There, the Asian man had a Colt M1911 pressed against a woman's forehead. His face was twisted with fury as he glared at the bespectacled man. The woman trembled violently, but didn't dare cry out. She covered her mouth, eyes pleading with her husband for help.
"Why did the news say only one bomb exploded?" the Asian man barked. "Why didn't the other one go off?! What the hell did you do?!"
He roared, finger twitching on the trigger.
"I—I didn't do anything! I swear! Don't hurt her! I made the bombs just like you asked! You were both watching the whole time! I didn't mess with anything! You promised me she wouldn't get hurt!"
"Then why didn't it explode?!"
The Asian man rammed the gun barrel into the woman's mouth.
"I don't know! Maybe it was the materials—maybe the fuse failed—I honestly don't know! Everything was done under pressure! You saw me build both devices, step by step—they were identical!"
The bomb maker spoke rapidly, sweat pouring down his face as he stared at the trembling firearm in front of his wife's face.
Ding ding… RUMBLE…
Two sharp warning chimes sounded outside, followed by the roar of a passing train. Clearly, this house was close to a railway.
Even after the train passed, the Asian man said nothing. The silence in the room stretched on endlessly.
Just then, the television broadcast switched to Tony Almeida's press conference.
"We have made progress in the investigation. So far, no organization has claimed responsibility. Two explosive devices were discovered at the scene—one detonated, one did not. We regret the casualties and have already contacted the German government for cooperation on possible connections to the West German People's Liberation Front…"
The room fell silent. Ironically, Tony's vague speech became the bomb maker's salvation.
The Asian man finally lowered his gun.
"When will the rest be ready?"
The bespectacled man knew he and his wife were safe—for now. Adjusting his glasses, he answered, "Half a day. I need a few more hours…"
"Make it fast. The sooner you finish, the sooner you're both free."
The Asian man waved a hand. The bomb maker was dragged away. He hadn't pushed too hard on the deadline—after all, explosives were delicate. A rushed mistake could blow the whole house sky-high.
Then the woman was forced up the stairs and shoved into the attic. She fell hard. Behind her, the Asian man checked the boarded-up window and the busted telephone lying in pieces on the floor. Satisfied, he slammed the door shut.
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