Nitrobenzene is a common chemical raw material, inherently flammable and explosive. It's also a precursor to many explosives, such as the famous TNT, whose scientific name is trinitrotoluene.
Sodium chlorate is a herbicide, also highly flammable and explosive. It's more effective when mixed with phosphorus, sulfur, or other substances.
"Wyatt works at an agricultural supply store. He must have gotten the sodium chlorate under the guise of a herbicide. We can ask there about it.
As for the coal-fired power company, who is this Griffin?"
Jubal felt a headache. The words "power plant" and "explosives" combined almost conjured up the image of a terrorist attack.
Alice read from the newly compiled information, "Larry Griffin, but he sold his shares in the coal-fired power company two years ago and now lives in Pelham, a suburb of Birmingham."
"Should we notify the power plant to increase security?" Aubrey asked.
"Notify the state troopers to increase patrols and check for suspicious vehicles on the roads leading to the power plant." Although Jack said so, he didn't think the Hammond brothers were going after the power plant.
Greg Hammond, in particular, looked nothing like a mindless redneck. His previous two murders seemed more like targeted revenge.
But this current case had left him somewhat unmotivated.
Before his time travel, Seres was heavily involved in environmental protection efforts. While there were inevitably issues of exploitation, bureaucratic inaction, and even local protectionism, it was undeniably effective, particularly at state-owned power plants.
Unlike European and American environmental protection requirements, which often remained mere PowerPoint presentations and slogans, Seres' power plants adhered to the world's strictest emission standards.
Those towering chimneys no longer emitted billowing black smoke, but a barely visible, thin vapor. Wastewater and solid waste were also 100% recycled.
The fly ash Greg's wife mentioned refers to the fine particles trapped in dust collectors after coal-fired power plants grind coal into fine particles less than 100 microns and burn it in the flue gas.
Every ton of standard coal burned produces approximately 0.138 tons of fly ash, which itself contains numerous pollutants, including heavy metals like mercury and lead, as well as harmful substances like sulfur dioxide and nitrogen oxides.
Directly releasing the fly ash into the atmosphere is relatively easy to detect, but collecting it for storage and landfill, while seemingly environmentally friendly, can lead to severe soil salinization and heavy metal contamination.
The typical treatment method is to recycle the fly ash, extracting valuable heavy metals and rare earth elements, and then converting the remaining material into building materials like cement and bricks.
Therefore, for the US, which is busy repairing the planet, fly ash is a highly desirable building material, used in roads, bridges, and dams.
For privately owned coal-fired power plants in the US, burying it in an uninhabited area is the most cost-effective disposal method.
This method presents no immediate problems; as long as the burial is deep enough, it may go unnoticed.
However, over the next ten or twenty years, as rainwater corrodes the metal drums and the heavy metals in the fly ash seep into groundwater, the contamination can persist for centuries.
"What a disgusting act," Clay said after looking up the information.
Jack sneered, "Now you know why fish and crabs from the Hudson River and the bays around New York can't be eaten, right?"
From 1947 to 1977, General Electric dumped countless tons of industrial waste into the Hudson River. The waste, derived from the insulating fluid in its transformers, contained large amounts of polychlorinated biphenyls (PCBs) and heavy metals like mercury and cadmium.
The effects of this dumping are similar to those of coal ash landfills. Large amounts of carcinogenic PCBs and heavy metals remain in the sediment deposits along the Hudson River and its tributaries. Beneath the seemingly clear water lies a sludge laden with carcinogens.
They were now in Blue Springs, less than 10 miles from Cleo. Soon, the Hammond brothers had placed over 200 stolen tablets outside the town's elementary school.
The area was equally dilapidated, but compared to other towns the FBI had encountered along the way, it was slightly more lively, with a few businesses still visible.
They found the agricultural supply store where Wyatt worked. The owner, a white, brown-haired woman in her early forties, looked ill-tempered, yet she busily carried fertilizer outside the store.
After explaining his purpose, Jack got straight to the point, "Ms. Barron, can Wyatt get access to the two chemicals I mentioned through your procurement channels?"
"Of course. I can only afford him as a helper right now, and luckily there's not much work left,"
the shopkeeper said with a touch of leniency. Jack could tell from the shabby shopfront that business wasn't very good.
"Do you really think he could make a bomb? Wyatt and his brother Greg are the most honest men I've met in this area. They don't smoke weed, they don't drink, and they certainly don't beat their wives."
Angry honest people are the most terrifying, Jack muttered silently.
"The evidence suggests it's possible. We know there's a lot of outrage around here because of the Griffin Coal and Power incident. Do you think Wyatt has discussed his desire for revenge?"
"No, but that's not surprising," the shopkeeper blurted out, setting down the fertilizer bag and leaning against a nearby pillar, panting slightly.
Seeing the two FBI agents staring at her, she continued, "What I mean is, I know he lost his niece and his parents, and it's natural to be angry, but who isn't here? Everyone in town is angry."
"How bad is the fly ash pollution here?" Clay asked, puzzled by the beautiful scenery they had seen along the way, all verdant mountains and clear waters.
The shop owner, Barron, had clearly noticed. "Not only are they secretly burying fly ash on the land near the water source, but they're also periodically shutting down the filters under the guise of maintenance, releasing it into the air.
This has been going on for nearly twenty years. If the power plant hadn't gone bankrupt, you'd still be smelling that stench of hell."
She waved for the two to follow her and then walked to the side of the store. A large wooden board was nailed to the wall, covered with a variety of old hats and stuffed animals.
The shop owner picked up a baseball cap with a bull's head logo and the words "Hackett Barron Farms" sewn on it, her eyes filled with nostalgia.
"My father used to have a farm nearby, but when all the cows died, he hung his hat here and died of illness six months later."
(End of chapter)