Chapter 357: Gearing Up for Action: The Expert Group's Response!

Meanwhile.

Federal Bureau of Investigation!

In the Command Center's monitoring room, the technician's fingers were still tapping away on the keyboard.

They had already tracked all the surveillance cameras around the alley where Chu Chen had vanished!

Within a two-kilometer radius!

Within a three-kilometer radius!

Within a five-kilometer radius!

But the result was still nothing.

There were no discoveries at all.

Henry stood before the screen wall, staring fixedly at the surveillance footage.

His tie had been pulled askew during the recent flurry of activity, two buttons at his collar were undone, and his shirt collar was somewhat wrinkled.

At this moment, Liu Xuemin walked in from the doorway of the monitoring room, holding a freshly brewed cup of coffee.

Hearing the sound, Henry turned around.

At this moment, the other members of the Expert Group had also arrived.

"You're here..." Henry scanned the group and continued, "I have already sent men to monitor the entire Metropolitan Museum, and I have added more personnel to the floor where the painting is located..."

Henry pulled a folded floor plan of the Metropolitan Museum from the table beside him, unfolded it, and laid it flat on the console.

The floor plan was black and white, the printed ink was somewhat faint, and the edges of the lines were slightly blurry, but every exhibition hall, every passageway, every stairwell, every elevator shaft, and every fire exit was clearly marked.

A few words had already been written on the map in pencil; the handwriting was small but very neat.

"This is the floor plan for the European Painting Gallery on the second floor of the Metropolitan Museum." Henry's finger tapped a spot on the map: "Chu Chen's target, 'Famine', is hanging here. Against the north wall, the third display space counting from east to west. Next to it is Millet's 'Gleane'. This gallery has two entrances and exits: one on the east side, connecting to the Medieval European Art Exhibition Hall, and one on the west side, connecting to the Nineteenth Century Painting Exhibition Hall. The south wall of the gallery is a row of arched windows, and outside the windows is Central Park. The north wall is this row of paintings. The ceiling height of the gallery is visually estimated to be over five meters, with central air conditioning vents and a fire sprinkler system. The floor is solid wood, with utility conduits underneath."

He paused for a moment, his finger drawing a circle on the map, enclosing the entire gallery.

"From now on, there are less than thirty hours until twelve o'clock the day after tomorrow. In these thirty hours, we must do three things. First, control the painting. Second, control the gallery. Third, control the people."

Henry walked over from the screen wall, stood beside Liu Xuemin, and looked down at the floor plan.

His two hands pressed against the edge of the console, his knuckles turning slightly white from the force.

"Control the painting. How?"

Henry's finger moved away from the gallery location on the map and drew an arrow in a blank space, pointing to a line of small text he had already written:

"Transfer the original painting, put a replica on the wall. Two people, two shifts, twenty-four-hour guard. Real-time monitoring, uninterrupted recording. Vibration sensors and displacement sensors built into the frame. Weight sensors embedded in the wall."

He raised his head and looked at Henry.

"Take the original painting off the wall and transport it to a safe place. This place cannot be inside the Metropolitan Museum, cannot be near any location Chu Chen has forecasted, and cannot be in any position that can be predicted. The transport process must be kept secret; the fewer people who know, the better. The agents participating in the escort must be strictly screened and cannot be anyone who might have been contacted by Chu Chen in previous operations. The replica must be made realistic enough to ensure it cannot be distinguished by the naked eye from a normal viewing distance!"

Henry paused, then continued:

"After the replica is on the wall, install vibration sensors and displacement sensors on the back of the frame. These two sensors must be connected to an independent alarm system, not connected to the museum's public security network, to prevent remote hacking. Weight sensors embedded in the wall—if the replica is removed from the wall, the sensors will detect a sudden change in weight and trigger an alarm. The signals from these sensors must be sent to three locations simultaneously: the Metropolitan Museum's on-site command center, the Federal Bureau of Investigation New York Branch, and this command center. Triple backup; if one is cut off, the other two remain."

Hank had already opened his laptop to the side, his fingers tapping rapidly on the keyboard.

He was recording every point Henry made, while simultaneously evaluating the feasibility and execution cost of each one in his mind.

His expression was focused, his brows slightly furrowed, and his lips pressed into a line.

"Vibration sensors and displacement sensors are easy to handle. Weight sensors—embedded in the wall—the Metropolitan Museum is a historic building; drilling holes in the walls requires approval from the New York City Landmarks Preservation Commission, and the approval process takes at least three days."

Liu Xuemin looked at him, his gaze not wavering: "Then what should we do?"

"I will find a way. No matter what, there must be weight sensors on that wall before twelve o'clock the day after tomorrow."

Hank fell silent. His fingers paused on the keyboard, then continued tapping.

Liu Xuemin's gaze moved away from him, fell back onto the map, and then asked: "Then what about controlling the gallery?"

Henry used his pencil to draw a second layer of circles in the gallery area on the map; this time the circle was denser than the last, almost hugging the edges of the walls.

"Set up a checkpoint at each of the gallery's two entrances and exits. Everyone entering the gallery must undergo identity verification."

"Not random checks, but full verification. The museum's normal opening hours are from ten in the morning to five in the afternoon. The day after tomorrow is a workday, and it will be open as usual. Visitors can enter, but they must pass through the checkpoints. The checkpoints must be equipped with facial recognition systems, and the system must be pre-loaded with all of Chu Chen's known facial feature data—normal state, Costume Change state, and facial data from all angles he has left in previous surveillance. The recognition system does not require him to take off his mask, take off his hat, or face the camera. The system must be able to automatically capture, automatically compare, and automatically sound an alarm within the crowd."

As he spoke, he drew a few small crosses on the map with his pencil, distributed in the four corners of the gallery and several positions in the center.

"Deploy plainclothes agents inside the gallery. The preliminary plan is at least twenty. Evenly distributed, covering all areas. Every plainclothes officer must be equipped with covert communication equipment; the earpiece must be hidden in the hair or collar, and there must be no signs that expose their identity. Their task is not to arrest—arrests are the responsibility of the external Special Task Force."

"Their task is to observe. Before Chu Chen disappeared at the Metropolitan Opera House, he had a 'give way to the first person' move. That move indicates that at the moment the crowd surged forward, he used the cover of the crowd to complete some kind of operation—we don't know exactly what operation, but we can prevent a similar situation from happening again. The task of the plainclothes officers is to lock onto Chu Chen's position the moment any abnormal commotion appears in the crowd, and not let him blend into the crowd."

At this time, Zhou Yun's voice came from behind the crowd:

"Sorry, let me interrupt. I think the plainclothes communication channels should be separated. Twenty people in the gallery, at least divide them into three independent communication groups, one channel for each group. If Chu Chen has the ability to monitor or interfere with our communications—he has already proven he has the ability to do many things we wouldn't expect—three channels can at least ensure that two are still working. On each channel, assign someone not in the gallery to monitor specifically. Plainclothes officers in the gallery should only say necessary things, no nonsense."

"In the few seconds Chu Chen disappeared on the stage of the Metropolitan Opera House, everyone's attention was on the direction the crowd was surging. No one was looking at him. It wasn't because they weren't professional; it was because Chu Chen created a black hole of attention at that moment. He used the commotion of the crowd and his own 'give way' move to lead everyone's gaze in the same direction. He himself disappeared on the back side of that direction. This time, our monitoring personnel must learn this lesson. No matter which direction the crowd surges, everyone's eyes must scan within their own area of responsibility. The areas of responsibility must be divided in advance, and the boundaries must overlap, leaving no blind spots."

"Besides, there is the ceiling," Zhou Yun finished, and Zhuang Yan spoke up.

Everyone's gaze turned to her.

Zhuang Yan took her phone out of her pocket and pulled up a building cross-section of the second floor of the Metropolitan Museum.

She walked to the console and placed her phone next to the floor plan.

The cross-section on the screen showed that above the gallery ceiling was an equipment layer about 1.2 meters high, filled with air conditioning ducts, fire water pipes, cable trays, and lighting circuits.

Above the equipment layer was the roof structure, and there were several maintenance entrances and exits on the roof.

"What if he comes from above? The ceiling is made of gypsum board, which can be cut open with a utility knife. He can enter the equipment layer after the museum closes, cut open the ceiling from above, use a rope to descend, take the painting, and then return the same way. He climbed ninety-two meters on the glass curtain wall of the Bloomsbury Building; descending from the ceiling is not a difficult task for him."

The conference room was quiet for two seconds.

Chen Zijin pushed up his glasses: "Control the ceiling. All entrances and exits to the equipment layer—on the roof, in the stairwells, in the elevator machine rooms—must be completely sealed. Send people to guard inside the equipment layer. Not patrolling, but stationary guarding. In the equipment layer directly above the gallery, arrange at least two people to sit there, doing nothing, just sitting there. If someone cuts open the ceiling, they will hear the sound and see the gypsum board fragments falling down."

Hank's fingers tapped a few more times on the keyboard: "There is no lighting in the equipment layer, and the temperature can reach nearly fifty degrees in the summer and nearly zero in the winter. No one can sit in there for several hours."

Chen Zijin looked at him, his gaze not wavering: "On the glass curtain wall of the Bloomsbury Building, the surface temperature was below zero and the wind speed was twelve meters per second. His physical fitness far exceeds that of a normal person. We cannot treat him according to the logic of dealing with normal criminals. The ceiling should indeed be included as a key point of our monitoring!"

Henry's brows moved slightly.

He nodded, picked up the pencil, and drew a third layer of circles on the map. This time the circle was the smallest, tightly hugging the north wall where the painting was located.

Immediately following this, he continued:

"Besides that, a cordon should also be set up in front of the painting. Not the kind of rope you can step over, but a physical barrier—a transparent bulletproof glass partition, from the floor all the way to the ceiling, sealing off the entire wall. Pressure sensors must be installed at the joints of the glass partition; any attempt to open the barrier will trigger an alarm."

"The bottom of the barrier must be fixed to the floor, and the top must be fixed to the wall structure; it cannot be pushed open from any direction. The glass of the barrier must be thick enough to withstand impact. Behind the barrier—on both sides and above the painting—place no fewer than four cameras, at least two of which are thermal imaging, and at least two of which are multispectral."

"Thermal imaging can penetrate smoke, obstructions, and any material attempting to conceal a body. Multispectral can detect any subtle changes on the surface of the painting—if someone attempts to copy, replace, or move the painting in any way, the multispectral will capture the anomaly at the first opportunity."

He put down his pencil, straightened up, and faced everyone.

"This is control at the physical level. There is another layer of control, more important than the physical level."

Everyone looked at him.

"Information control," Henry said. "Every one of Chu Chen's actions is built upon a precise grasp of information. He knows the layout of the French Bank vault, he knows the security loopholes of the British Museum, he knows the bank card balance of the UnitedHealth CEO. He knows things we don't know. We must do the same—turn the things he doesn't know into our greatest advantage."

He took a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and unfolded it.

On the paper was not a diagram, but a table.

The table listed three columns.

The first column was "Things we know," the second column was "Things he doesn't know," and the third column was "Things we can all use to take action."

"We know he will go to the Metropolitan Museum at twelve noon the day after tomorrow. He knows that we know. This is not an advantage."

His finger slid from the first column to the second: "What are the things he doesn't know? He doesn't know where the original painting was moved to. He doesn't know that after the replica is hung on the wall, there are sensors on the back of the frame. He doesn't know that weight sensors are buried in the wall. He doesn't know that there is someone on duty in the equipment layer. He doesn't know the distribution of plainclothes officers, he doesn't know the grouping of communication channels, he doesn't know which direction the thermal imaging cameras are aimed. These 'don't knows' are our advantage."

He placed the paper on the table, his fingers pressing on the edges of the paper.

"But it cannot just be these. We need to create more things he doesn't know. For example—information release time lag. For the operation the day after tomorrow, all deployment details, from now until the operation ends, cannot be discussed on any public channel. Not 'discussed less,' but cannot be discussed. Don't even say it on encrypted channels. All communication, go offline, speak face-to-face."

"Leave no written records! Leave no electronic documents! Send no emails! Send no messages!"

Henry's words were rhythmic and emphatic: "He can act as a man-in-the-middle in RFID signals, he can disappear between two frames of surveillance footage; it is very likely he can also enter our communication network. We assume he is already inside. We assume he is listening. Therefore, from now on, we will no longer discuss operation details through any means that can be reached by the network."

Just as he finished speaking, Wesley suddenly spoke up:

"Regarding the peripheral deployment, I have a few suggestions. Within three blocks surrounding the Metropolitan Museum, all usable surveillance cameras must be connected to the Command Center."

"The technical team must be on duty in full force on the day of the operation, analyzing every feed in real-time. Every street, every intersection, every subway station entrance must have someone watching. Plainclothes and uniformed officers should be mixed; the periphery should be primarily uniformed, and the inner circle primarily plainclothes."

"The Special Task Force will be divided into three echelons. The first echelon will be right inside the exhibition hall, mixed in with the visitors. The second echelon will be in the public area on the first floor, ready to reinforce at any time. The third echelon will be on standby in cars outside the building, with engines running. The helicopter will take off fifteen minutes before the operation begins, circling in the air to provide real-time visual support. Drones must also be used—in the non-no-fly zone above the museum, deploy at least four drones to film ground footage from four different angles. Chu Chen's Parkour route in London utilized the blind spots between buildings; drones can fill in all those blind spots."

He paused, his gaze moving from Liu Xuemin's face to Henry's face, and then from Henry's face to Li Changyu's face.

The three men's expressions were all different—Liu Xuemin's focus, Henry's scrutiny, Li Changyu's calmness—but all three of them nodded slightly at the same time.

The next second, Pinkman's cane suddenly tapped on the ground.

It emitted a "tap" sound.

The next second, everyone looked at him.

"These things you were just talking about—glass partitions, sensors, plainclothes, drones, helicopters—are all correct. Very professional. Very standard."

Pinkman opened his mouth slowly.

"But you forgot one thing."

He turned around, facing everyone, and drew a semicircle in the air with his cane.

"He is a magician. His magic is never about 'how he does it.' It is about 'how you perceive how he does it.' Your cognition is his stage. Your attention is his prop. When you were drawing the sensors on that wall, he was already on the other side of the wall. Not because his body went over, but because your brains went over. When your brains are thinking about that wall, your eyes are not looking elsewhere. And he is right there in that 'elsewhere'."