Richard, disguised as a cleaner, set the trap on the 62nd floor. He primed the lift shaft, planted the charge, and blew the mechanism.
The explosion rattled the walls and sent alarms screaming. Smoke poured into the corridors. He staggered out, shouting, "Help! Fire! Somebody help!"
His small stature actually helped him go unnoticed, though not his voice.
Within seconds, terrified staff came flooding into the hallways.
Some coughed and covered their mouths, others grabbed what they could and ran. Security raced in, pulling people back, barking orders to get everyone out safely. The chaos was complete.
But that chaos had a hidden purpose—because down in the lower levels, NATO's garrison was scrambling to gather. Their organized pursuit was delayed, but not stopped. They chose the staircase.
