Daca, capital of Bangladesh. Just to the east of the old city, near the

presidential palace is around about and in the middle is a giant statue of a

water lily blossom, the national flower of Bangladesh. Traffic snarls around it.

On the southeast side there's a grey 12-story office block. It's the kind of

boring building you can plonk down in any city in the world and it'll fit right in.

This is a very important building in Bangladesh. It's the headquarters of the

country's central bank. It's where they manage the precious currency reserves of

a country with millions of desperately poor citizens and high up on the

tenth floor away from the traffic noise. There's a computer printer.

It's just a normal printer but it's the location that's important. It's in the

most restricted area of the bank in a small room with a glass panel along one wall.

Only a handful of employees are allowed in because this is where the bank's

computers connect with the world's financial system. Every day millions of

dollars flow in and out of accounts thanks to messages sent and received by

the machines in this room and the printer faithfully records it all on paper.

And then it stops. It's 8.45am on Friday the 5th of February 2016.

We've all had printer problems and the duty manager that day Zabir Bin Hooder

thought the same thing most of us do. He later told police in a statement that

such glitches had happened before. So we assumed he says it was a common problem

just like any other day but this isn't like any other day.

Far from it. By now it's 11am and it's just about time for Friday prayers.

And Zabir Bin Hooder has plans for the afternoon so he and his colleagues

...