The oppressive heat of Hanoi's rainy season hung thick over the "Tây Hồ New City" Phase II construction site, like a sodden blanket. Leaden clouds had loomed for days, threatening a downpour that never came, leaving the air thick and suffocating. Nguyễn Văn (Van)'s unease mirrored the heavy atmosphere, reaching its peak three days after the critical transfer slab concrete pour on the 15th floor of Block 1.
He slipped away during breaks, sweat soaking the back of his faded blue work shirt, sticking uncomfortably to his skin, to check the formwork removal. When the carpenters finally pried off the last side panel that afternoon, Van's heart plunged into an icy abyss. The sight was worse than his darkest fears.
In several beam-column joint areas thick with rebar, the concrete surface was marred by ugly patches of honeycombing and pockmarks, like festering sores. Most horrifying was a thin, snaking crack running along the bottom of a main girder, stark and menacing in the dim light. It was a disaster signal – honeycombing meant weak, porous concrete; a crack at this critical structural junction spelled potential catastrophe. Instantly, the reports on that substandard cement batch and his lingering doubts about the subsequent deliveries flooded his mind.
"Bad! Honeycombing! And a crack!" Concrete Foreman Trần (Old Trần) stammered, his face ashen beneath his grimy orange safety vest, now looking like a flag of failure. A chill shot through Van, momentarily banishing the sticky heat, leaving only numb dread. He rushed forward, fingers trembling as they traced the cold, rough crack – a death omen under his touch.
"What happened?!" Project Manager Hải (Hải) arrived, boots splashing in the slurry-covered floor, his khaki work pants and dark polo shirt dust-streaked, forehead beaded with sweat that now glistened with fury. His eyes, scanning the damage, blazed with shock and anger. "Old Trần! What did you do?! Poor compaction?! Or bad mix?!"
"Hải! I… followed procedure! The mix… felt sticky, hard to work…" Old Trần wiped sweat with a cement-grimed hand, smearing his cheek, gesturing desperately at Van. "Van! Cement… the test reports? Was it that batch…?"
Hải whirled, his gaze like a honed blade slicing into Van. "Van! Materials are your watch! Explain!"
Van forced calm, pulling the relevant batch reports from his canvas tool bag. "Hải, reports show compliant. But this pour used a mix including follow-up batches from that earlier faulty cement – Batch A-0723. While their individual tests passed, stability might be compromised. Slump was borderline low at 120mm that day. Heat sped evaporation. Crews reported compaction issues. I recommend halting work here immediately! Technical assessment!" His voice was urgent but controlled as he handed over the papers.
"Halt?! How?!" Hải waved dismissively, frustration boiling over. "Schedule's choked! Owner breathes down our necks! Inspector's mid-term visit imminent! And this?!" He took a ragged breath, fighting the eruption. "Tech! QC! Get here now! Seal the area! Samples! Fast!" His chest heaved, eyes flickering with dismay and a sliver of fear over the damaged zone.
Chaos erupted. Workers whispered, panic spreading in the muggy air. Tech and QC arrived swiftly in their hi-vis vests, faces grim. Photos, crack measurements, core samples, rebound tests… the grim ritual unfolded. Preliminary findings were dire: localized low strength, severe honeycombing, girder crack needing structural analysis. A major incident.
The news hit Nguyễn Kim Hải (Kim Hải) like a detonation. He'd been savoring iced coffee in his plush office, immaculate grey linen suit contrasting sharply with the volcanic rage twisting his features.
"Incompetents! All of you!" Kim Hải roared, hurling his expensive purple clay teapot to the marble floor. Brown liquid and shards sprayed, staining his polished shoes. He stormed like a provoked lion, his carefully styled hair ruffled. "Critical stage! Critical! A day's delay costs billions of dong! Owner penalties are jokes?! Inspector intervention! Shutdown! Company reputation ruined! Who shoulders this?!"
An emergency meeting convened. Hải, the bespectacled, meticulously groomed Tech Head, the portly Procurement Manager in a striped shirt (eyes darting nervously), Van, Thu (Thu) in her sharp grey suit (expression rigidly neutral) – all gathered in the chilled, tomb-like conference room. Kim Hải sat at the head, face thunderous, his gaze a searchlight finally locking onto Van in his simple work clothes, pale and tense.
"Report! What happened?!" Kim Hải's voice was glacial.
Hải delivered the grim summary, emphasizing compaction issues and workability problems, wiping sweat, avoiding eye contact.
Tech Head adjusted his glasses, added technical findings cautiously.
Procurement Manager jumped in, hands spread in feigned innocence: "Sir, all materials had compliant reports! Supplier vetted! Procurement flawless! We followed every rule!" His eyes flicked towards Van.
The spotlight burned on Van. He stood, distributing report copies. "Sir, all cement batch reports show compliant. But the affected concrete included follow-up batches from the earlier faulty cement – Batch A-0723. While its solo test passed, instability is suspected. Pour day slump was min-spec. Heat worsened evaporation. Crews reported compaction struggles. Material risk, adverse conditions, possible compaction lapse – combined caused this. I urge deep investigation into Supplier A-0723's production and QC!" He pointed at key data, fingers icy.
"Investigate?! Now?!" Kim Hải slammed the table, teacups rattling. He leaned forward, eyes like daggers. "Now is damage control! Loss mitigation! Schedule! Penalties! Shutdown! That's the fire! Van!" He stabbed a finger. "Materials are your primary duty! Reports compliant? Compliant why failure?! Your risk control?! Your oversight?! Negligence?! Or…" he paused, sweeping the room, gaze back on Van, icy and probing, "…deliberate sabotage?!"
"Sir! I…" Van felt electrocuted, face draining of color. The accusation, the implication of malfeasance, was a vicious blow.
"Silence!" Kim Hải cut him off, final. "Effective immediately, you are suspended from Cost Specialist duties! Cooperate fully with the investigation team! Materials work transfers to Thu!" Thu stiffened slightly, adjusted her glasses, gave a curt nod, avoiding Van's eyes. "Hải! Tech! Procurement!" Kim Hải commanded. "24 hours! Viable repair plan! Spare no cost! Recover schedule! Minimize impact! Dismissed!"
Van stood frozen, blood seeming to congeal. Suspended? Investigated? Public branding as the prime suspect. The scapegoat. He saw Kim Hải's ruthless stare, Hải's weary resignation, Tech Head's subtle relief, Procurement Manager's fleeting smirk, Thu's averted gaze. Humiliation and fury threatened to tear him apart. The chilled air felt solid, trapping him like a fly in amber.
Stumbling out, colleagues' stares – pity, curiosity, cold indifference, mostly avoidance – felt like lashes. Dũng (Dũng) sauntered up, reeking of cheap cologne, hair slicked, face mock-concerned.
"Well, well, Specialist Van? Or should I say, Suspect Van?" Dũng sneered, leaning close. "High places are slippery, eh? Told you to ease up, play nice. Didn't listen? Now look." He clapped Van's shoulder hard. "Don't worry. Your spot… I'll 'guard' it well!" He strutted off, leaving a trail of contempt.
Van clenched his fists, nails biting palms, the sting barely holding back his rage. Outside, the pent-up storm finally unleashed, rain hammering the windows like a drumroll for his downfall. He knew his personal tempest had just begun.