Capital Offense полностью

Pat Mead was the main reason why Jack had joined Today. Substantially older than Jack, he had taken Jack under his wing out in the field, when they’d both been foreign correspondents. Pat had left the trenches a few years earlier to become Special Projects Editor for Today. Shortly thereafter, he reunited Jack.

“I’m sorry for the formality. But the legal department is a stickler for employment files.” Pat’s voice was tight.

“I don’t care about my employment file, and you know it. What I care about is the contents of that letter. My story on Lane’s military service was accurate and the sources were verified. I had authentic medical and military records. So what gives?”

“You and I need to talk. Why don’t you come into the office tomorrow morning, around nine?”

Jack clenched his jaw. “Spill it. I’m not waiting for tomorrow morning.”

Pat paused. “The brass at the top aren’t pleased with your style.”

“What are you talking about? They hired me for my style. When I signed on, they specifically said that they needed more of my kind of reporting.”

“Then you’re more than they bargained for. Unfortunately I’ve been given the job of issuing you another warning. You’ve already had your hands slapped, and now this is getting serious. You need to back off, or you’re going to see a drastic change in the type of assignments you receive. They’ve got you under contract, they can assign you to anything.”

“You’ve got to be kidding.” Jack’s voice was a harsh whisper. Every muscle in his body tensed.

“I wish I were.”

“And what exactly did I do to warrant this hog tying?”

“You were spotted on a fishing expedition in Missouri, you were warned before to watch your step where the Lanes were concerned.”

Jack sat back in his chair, questions spinning in his mind. How did Pat know he’d gone to Missouri? Neither he nor Maureen had spoken to the office since his trip. And why the backlash? Finally, Jack responded. “This is outrageous, and you know it. I’m a reporter. Remember? Getting the story’s my job. You, of all people, should know what I’m about. I can’t believe you’re going along with this.”

“I know, I know. And I’m sorry. I’m not sure who the players are, but I can tell you that it came down from on high that you were to be cut off at the knees. It was all I could do to convince them you could be reeled in. The brass is about to ship your ass to Siberia. I don’t want to lose you, Jack, you’re the best I’ve got.”

“Yeah, right. I’m the best you’ve got as long as I do as I’m told and only report what the magazine wants me to. That’s the fattest line of bullshit I’ve ever heard. If you’re going to tie my hands like this, then let me out of my contract – fire me.”

“Come on. Jack. You’re not being fair. You know I’m on your side here.”

“If you’re on my side, then talk the magazine into releasing me.”

“You can’t be serious. Take a few days to cool off, then we’ll talk.”

“I’ve never been more serious in my life. Let me out of my contract.” Jack’s voice was cool. He fumbled through his pocket for a cigarette.

“I’m sorry, but the magazine’s not willing to do that.” Pat’s voice was clipped and hard. “If you want to quit, that’s your business, but you won’t be able to write for anyone else until the contract expires.”

“Unbelievable.” Jack snapped the pencil he was holding. “Quite an effective way to shut me down, isn’t it? They tell me what I can write, or I can’t write at all. And you support that? What happened to real journalism? And freedom of the press? What happened to Pat Mead? I never thought you’d ever sell out like this.”

“All I can say is you’ve pissed off some powerful folks. And I’m doing my damnedest to save your career.”

“Don’t worry. I get the picture. And for now, I’ll play ball.”

“I’m glad you’re being reasonable. You’re my best correspondent, and I need you. You won’t be sorry. I’ll take good care of you. Let things cool down for a while. Next week I’m sending you to cover the end of the Washman campaign.”

“Don’t trust me near the Lane camp?”

“Very perceptive. But don’t be a hero on this, okay? Stay the hell out of Missouri. Maybe later we can get you in there, but for now, just watch your back. It looks like you’ve made some nasty enemies.”

“It’s not the first time, and it won’t be the last.” Jack stared at the phone as he replaced the receiver. Yes, he’d have to watch his back. Someone had used a lot of pressure to call him off, a very powerful someone. But who?

From experience he knew that the more extreme the reaction, the bigger the story. If that theory held true, he was onto one of the largest stories of the decade. But how to handle it?

Jack had the resources to hire a battery of attorneys to deal with his employer and his contract, but a protracted legal battle was not the answer. His father had taught him that to right a wrong, one should work within the system, not alienate himself from it. No, Jack shook his head; the choice was simple. He’d fight his own battles.

August, 2000 – Jefferson City, Missouri