Actually, can you please explain this? I have my own ideas about why liquid explosives don’t present a unique or special hazard. Mainly I don’t know anything liquid that isn’t also very unstable and that wouldn’t go off before you got to the airport. I don’t know enough about this, but everything I do know says these explosives basically do not exist.
The official story is that the tangos were intending to make acetone peroxide from precursors in flight.
The process however involves cooling and prolonged crystallization step. I want to see how they intended to keep the reaction in the fridge overnight on the flight.
There are other energetic liquids, but they tend to be extremely capricious or are quite less brisant than solids.
In case of doubts, requiring the passenger to take a sip could be the best test as the stuffs are toxic and the precursors are more often than not also caustic.
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Similar happened to me while traveling back from Italy. While at the Fiumicino Duty Free, I bought a bottle of nice single malt Scottish Whisky. That went aboard in my carry-on bag. When we changed planes in O’Hare, we found ourselves outside of domestic security, because our International and Domestic flights were in different terminals in Chicago. WTF!!! TSA, while very polite, asserted that that liter bottle could not travel with me in the cabin. Time for some creative problem solving.
Looking at my carry-on bag, I realized my solution was in hand. I went over to the Alaska Airlines counter and asked them if it was okay if I could check-in my bag. As it was, the flight was fully booked, and the airline was asking passengers to accept the offer of a free check-in bag, to minimize crowding in the overhead compartments. SWEET! I had already wrapped the bottle in clothes and shifted my laptop into my wife’s carry-on bag. Problem solved!
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The one time I had a problem at a terminal was when I didn’t have enough booze on me.
When I was leaving Moscow through one of their airports, some of the security/law enforcement approached me and asked me for my registration sheet, which I was supposed to fill out at a local militia station three days after arrival, at latest. I heard of no such thing before and didn’t ever do it on my numerous visits there, but it’s apparently a real rule.
The burly men offered me a choice: miss my flight, come with them to the militia station somewhere and do something about it, or… you guessed it: “Why don’t you go get us something from the Duty Free over there. Something nice, about $50 value. We like Cognac.”
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