Arnesto Modesto: The World's Most Ineffectual Time Traveler

Building Violation

Dhaka District

Bangladesh

Saturday, April 20, 2013

Afternoon

Bangladesh was a beautiful, verdant country. The heat and humidity were not unlike Massachusetts in the summer. After nearly being exploded in Boston, Arnesto felt he should probably get away for a little while, in case the feds were looking for the guy who threw the bomb. How could he have been so stupid?

He had another reason for coming to Bangladesh. It was because of something a coworker had said a couple days from now in his former life. He couldn't remember the exact words, but it was something like, "All those people died in that factory, but the media still won't shut up about the Boston Marathon."

Upon arriving, he paid the rickshaw driver and looked up at his target: Rana Plaza, an eight-story, dilapidated eyesore. Soon, it would be collapsing, with or without Arnesto's help.

He walked around it a few times, surveying the outside of the building. Points of entry, points of exit, and possible escape routes lead the list of which he made a mental note. Finally, he went inside.

He was surprised to see several shops — all he remembered of the place was that it was the site of one of the worst factory disasters in history. The factories were on the upper floors, including several floors built without a permit — in a building not intended for factory use — made from substandard materials — built on a pond. It's a wonder the building lasted as long as it did.

The shops were small and didn't appear to have many hiding places. Though the people were friendly to him, he was clearly a foreigner, and this made him feel even more conspicuous. His plan had been to hide somewhere until everyone went home for the night, but it was starting to look like he might have to break in after hours.

He almost didn't notice the camera crew until he was on top of them. After putting some distance between them and himself, he observed from behind a couple of other observers who had gathered. He couldn't figure out what they were recording, but the camera seemed aimed at the wall. Then he saw them.

Cracks. They were recording cracks in the wall. Cracks big enough to make one call a film crew. Had he missed them on his first pass or had they appeared since his arrival? One thing was certain — he was in the right place.

Someone ordered an evacuation soon after. Though it was unexpected, it gave him the opportunity he needed. Acting like he was supposed to be there, he alternated between directing evacuees and working his way upward. Eventually, he made it to the fifth floor, where he was able to sneak inside one of the now-deserted factories. He took note of his surroundings.

There were rows upon rows of sewing machines with some supplies scattered by the walls. At one end of the building were a couple of small offices while at the other end there was a generator. Behind the generator were a couple of small gas containers, while off to the side were a few large laundry carts that didn't look like they were being used.

With the building evacuated, this might be the perfect moment to bring it down. He walked over to the window and looked out, then immediately changed his mind as he ducked down. Right, evacuated doesn't mean sent home, it means evacuated to right outside the building. He cautiously raised his head to look out the window and saw roughly two thousand workers gathered a few stories below on the ground outside. Can't exactly commit arson then run out the building in front of a few thousand eye witnesses. Besides, they're too close, they'll still get hurt. He turned his gaze toward the entrance in time to see a few men in construction helmets enter the building.

He slunk down again, deciding to wait until the inspection team went back out. After a long wait, he heard what sounded like crowd movement, so he again peeked out the window. For once, history was on Arnesto's side. The workers were being sent home.

The building was his. There was no security, at least none that he saw, and there were no cameras watching the place. There also weren't any smoke detectors or sprinklers. Sure, this would help him in his pursuit of arson, but he needed to make it big. What good would one little fire do if people still showed up to work the next day, only to have the building collapse on top of them?

Looking over at the generator, he decided to step up his game. He lifted the first gas tank and shook it. Empty. He lifted the second gas tank but didn't shake it. There was half a gallon of gas inside. It would have to do.

First, Arnesto made sure he could, in fact, escape. The door leading out to the stairwell locked from the inside. From there it would be a cinch to run down the stairs and out a side door at the bottom. He couldn't access the other factories or shop levels, but if the fire was big enough, he wouldn't need to.

Second, he formed a makeshift fuse out of fabric and apparel. Unscrewing the gas cap on the generator, he stuck one end of the fuse inside while the rest continued down the side of the generator then along the floor between two rows of sewing machines. He then moistened the fuse with gasoline from the container.

Finally, he removed a lighter from his pocket and lit the far end. It took a moment, but the flame caught. He watched for a bit to make sure it progressed, then felt satisfied. He hurried out the door and down the stairs, then nonchalantly walked outside and away from the building. As he looked back, he could barely make out a tiny flicker in the fifth-floor window.

After a few blocks, he again turned to look at the factory. Shouldn't he have heard something by now? What if the flame went out? Should he go back? He still had some hours of nighttime left, though he hadn't propped the doors open, so he'd have to risk breaking a window—

BOOM!

The explosion was so loud that it scared him half to death even from three blocks away. The explosion had not only sent the burning wreckage of the generator into the floor below, it had also blasted a hole in the floor above, causing that generator to fall through as well. With so much heavy machinery tumbling through substandard building materials barely strong enough to hold the weight to begin with, the whole building collapsed in on itself into a massive pile of burning debris and sewing machines.

It didn't hurt that the gas canisters had been nearly empty because they had been used to fill the generator after repeated power outages.

Arnesto made it back to his hotel to gather his belongings, then took a cab to the airport to get the earliest flight home. A day-and-a-half later, he walked into his apartment, dropped his bag, and fell exhausted onto his couch. His phone buzzed, but he didn't feel like talking to anyone. He only decided to answer it when he saw it was Pete. Good, Arnesto wanted to ask him about any fallout from the Boston bombings.

"Pete," Arnesto said as he answered the phone.

"Hello, Mr. Modesto," said a pleasant but firm female voice. "I'm sorry we had to approach you like this."

The hairs on the back of Arnesto's neck stood on end. "Who is this? Where's Pete?" he asked.

"Mr. Modesto, we have Peter Morgan in custody, and we'd like you to come in as well."