THE BRONX, NY - Shirley Winters sat watching her favorite weekly series, Survivor, an empty bottle of Perrier and half eaten bowl of popcorn on the reading table next to her on the couch.
She heard a knock at her door and looked at her watch, 10:46 P.M.
It’s too late to be Alice, Shirley thought. It’s probably that guy down the hall who’s always staring at me in the elevators.
Before Shirley could decide to ignore the pest, a second series of more forceful knocking came to the door.
That damn idiot is drunk again! I’m going to tell that guy I’m calling the police this time!
Shirley was celebrating, proud in the knowledge both Telly and Lucy Dietrich would be ecstatic at what she had uncovered. The audio recordings were overnighted to Telly’s Washington office address just after work; Shirley was surprised, however, she had not heard from the senior reporter after leaving him several voicemail messages.
Shirley was too naive to understand the kind of ruthless people she had unwittingly aroused; instead, her only thoughts were of the promising career in journalism that would at the moment be hers, guaranteed.
She got up from the couch and went over to look through the peep hole of the front door and surprised to see two uniformed police officers in the hallway.
What the hell? The young woman thought, then opened the door.
“Ms. Shirley Winters?” said the taller of the two men dressed as NYPD officers.
“Can I help you?”
“Sorry to disturb you Ms. Winters, but are you alone?”
“Yes, why...”
Shirley was all of a sudden knocked to the floor of her apartment. She could not move! She could not cry out! Everything went dark when the second blast of 250,000 electrical volts were sent reeling through her body.
----------
WASHINGTON, D.C. - MENN reporter, Telly Abernathy, continued to get Shirley's voicemail at home. Her email had read as follows:
9:30 P.M.
Telly,
I’ve tried to reach you by phone to alert you to a package I sent, overnight express. It should arrive before 9:00 A.M. tomorrow. It contains audio recordings of conference calls. I think you’re going to be impressed.
I am at home. Call me when you get this email.
Shirley
Shirley's email remained unread until early that morning because Telly and his wife were out the night before celebrating their fifteenth anniversary. The senior reporter had now waited for the overnight parcel, thinking Shirley might have sent it to his home address. When the parcel did not arrive by 10:00 A.M. he concluded Shirley must have sent it to his office. It was half-past ten and Telly was at that moment driving in on the interstate on his way into the MENN Washington bureau.
Telly pressed the button to start the voice-command phone system.
Beep!
"Connect me to the operator."
The automated, female voice responded, "Connecting you to Navistar operator."
Ring...ring...ring
"This is Navistar, may I help you?"
"Yes," responded Telly in an impatient tone, "connect me to the main switchboard for World News Network, the headquarters in Manhattan."
The operator replied, "Connecting you now. Have a nice day Mr. Abernathy."
Telly admired Shirley's drive and ingenuity, but never imagined she would succeed in bugging the news anchor, Deena Crawford's office. The young woman could also be in real trouble.
Ring...ring...ring
"World News Network, how may I help you?"
"I'm trying to reach Shirley Winters."
"Just one moment, please." There was a momentary pause on the line. “I'm not seeing anyone here by that name, what department is Ms. Winters in?"
"She's only Deena Crawford's assistant!"
"One moment, please."
Telly was put on hold.
"Just one moment; I'm connecting you."
Whew! That was a little scary.
A man answered the phone, "You are calling for Shirley Winters? Who is calling?"
Telly thought for a moment before giving a response. "This is her dentist's office calling to confirm her appointment for tomorrow at twelve noon."
There is something peculiar about the man's accent, Russian?
"Shirley is out sick today. Do you want to leave a message?"
"No, thank you, she was left a message at her home number."
Telly pressed the phone-icon and disconnected the call then quickly glanced into his rearview mirror...nothing suspicious looking. Now, his side view mirrors…again, nothing. The reporters’ hands were trembling. With a quivering finger, Telly pressed the phone icon again.
When he heard the beep, he commanded, "Call Lucy Dietrich."
The automated voice responded, "Which number would you like…"
"Direct number!" yelled the panic stricken reporter. Cold beads of sweat collected on his brow.
"Connecting you to Lucy Dietrich...direct phone number," came the automated female voice.
The reporter yelled out loud in fear. “Telly, what the hell have you gotten yourself into!”
Telly had put the pieces together...he was in mortal danger as confirmed by Shirley’s sudden disappearance. He had been in Washington long enough to know when people vanished, it was forever!
Ring...ring
"Come on Lucy, pick up! Pick up!"
Ring...ring
"Damn it, pick up!"
"Hello, this is Lucy Dietrich…"
“Damn!” he shouted.
"Hurry up...HURRY UP!"
"...leave a message at the tone."
Beep!
"Lucy, this is Telly! Something is wrong! I mean, really wrong! I'm on my way into the office...I'll be there in five minutes. There's a package that's…" The call went suddenly dead.
----------
The senior editor was sitting at her desk, her back to a third-story window overlooking the busy interstate when Lucy Dietrich was startled by a thunderous explosion closely followed by a percussion wave that rebounded off the plate glass window.
“Holy shit! What the hell was that!”
Lucy quickly turned and looked out her corner office windows at the cloudless, sunny day.
Roger, her assistant came running in. "Ms. Dietrich, did you feel that?"
"Yes, of course I heard it. Sounded like someone just broke the sound barrier."
"I think it was an explosion, Ms. Dietrich, very close by."
Lucy peered out her office window again and saw the traffic on the southbound side coming to a complete standstill. Seconds later, traffic in the northbound lanes completely disappeared.
“Whatever it is, Roger, it happened on the interstate. I’m expecting a pressing call, quick go take a look.”
"Yes, Ms. Dietrich."
Minutes later, Roger was standing in the parking lot facing the interstate where dozens of employees were likewise trying to find out what happened. The sounds of fire department and patrol cars at that moment began to fill the air. Helicopters were now overhead, circling a rising pall of grey smoke to the south. Drivers on the interstate were now standing outside their cars looking in the direction of the now billowing smoke.
"There, look at that," exclaimed one of the employees at flames that began to lick the horizon.
One more onlooker shouted, "Let's take a look from the roof."
Roger and ten or so onlookers quickly returned to the lobby and were headed for the bank of elevators when a young man came running through the doorway of the opposite side of the building shouting.
"It's on the TV at Gino's! It's a car, or SUV that exploded!"
Roger rushed along with the crowd to the local diner, Gino's Sandwiches, just on the other side of the main parking lot. The assistant found the eatery crowded with everyone gathered around the wall-mounted televisions.
One of the onlookers was a coworker who recognized Roger, "You've got to see this!"
&n
bsp; What Roger saw was a live aerial view from one of the circling news choppers of an SUV, or what remained of one in a tangled wreck on I-495.
"That's our exit!" Someone exclaimed out loud.
A mortified look descended upon Roger as someone shouted, "Hey, turn the volume up!"
The reporter in the air was talking about the scene, "...and we're now being told by eye witnesses the wreckage is of a Range Rover traveling northbound on I-495.”
----------
Lucy picked up the phone and with trembling hands called the direct line for Jack's Atlanta office. Telly and Shirley’s recent discovery arrived in a manila envelope by overnight courier. The package contained further evidence of the collusion between the publisher and editors at WNN...and the White House!
Four and a half decades earlier, the political scandal known as Watergate resulted in the resignation of a sitting President and was the high watermark of journalism. The stigma that accompanied the media coverage of that burglary would taint the Republican Party for more than two decades and secure control of all Washington for the Democrats. For the establishment, those were their heydays.
Shirley and Telly had discovered what was the beginning of the latest attempt to orchestrate something similar. Lucy knew World News Network would not be the only news company running the coverage; everyone would be jumping on the bandwagon. The best strategy for her to take would be to get out in front of their campaign, before the coverage hit the presses, and expose the charges for what they were, to throw cold water on the fuse before the bomb exploded. However, this was too big a call for her to make on her own. This decision could have far reaching consequences, some positive, most negative.
"Mr. Newman's office, may I help you?"
"Ingrid, this is Lucy Dietrich, I need to speak with Mr. Newman. This is urgent!"
"Ms. Dietrich, Mr. Newman's on his way to Indonesia."
"Indonesia! When is Jack scheduled to get back?"
The strained tone in the Senior Editor's voice was picked up on by the seasoned secretary. "Is everything all right, Ms. Dietrich?"
"Yes, Ingrid, it’s just that I've got something urgent I must discuss with him and it really can't wait."
Lucy looked at her watch; it was coming up on 7:00 P.M. EST. "Ingrid, when is Jack scheduled to arrive in Indonesia?"
"Mr. Newman departed at noon today. I would expect Mr. Newman would arrive about 3:00 A.M. our time."
"Do you know if we've got encrypted internet connections to the Indonesian facilities?"
"I'm afraid I don't know the answer, but Marlon Beechman would know. I understand Mr. Beechman is already on site. Would you like for me to connect you?"
Lucy thought it over for a moment. "No, Ingrid, that's okay."
Lucy looked at the contents of the overnight package and at the scribbled note from her novice reporter.
“Is Kate in?”
“I am convinced she is. Do you want me to transfer you?”
“Yes, of course.”
Katherine Tate’s voice answered, “What’s up Lucy?”
“Something else big has come in and I mean Big! I needed to talk with Jack before deciding on next steps, but he’s overseas and unavailable.”
“What sort of ‘Big’ are you talking about?”
“An audio recording. You won’t believe who is on it.”
There was a moment of silence on the line.
“Lucy, why can’t you run the story and expose the charade?”
“Kate, the President and his party are in on this...they control Washington.”
“What do you have to lose, Lucy?”
“I’ve been around the Capitol long enough to know the progress MENN is making could be slowed down dramatically if it becomes a target.”
“What’s the worse that could happen?’
“Everything from investigations by the Department of Justice to IRS audits, to legislation.”
“Yet, you are persuaded something needs to be done.”
“Exactly right, Kate! This story is just too big to drop.”
“Okay, hold on.”
“No, wait...shit!”
Moments later, Dr. Magnason’s voice came over the line.
“Kate, this is Dr. Magnason. You say you’ve uncovered something else?”
----------
Lucy had broken out into a cold sweat; she knew what kind of power the people in the conversations wielded and what they were capable of doing, what they might have already done! Telly was not answering her calls, which was not like him...at all!
“Did it come through, Dr. Magnason?”
His voice came back over the speaker phone, “Hold on a second, here comes the file.”
Lucy watched as she attempted to transfer the audio files a third time.
10% Complete...
20% Complete...
30% Complete...
40% Complete...
50% Complete...
60% Complete...
70% Complete...Error
File Transfer Incomplete...
“Incomplete?” Lucy remarked out loud.
“What?”
“The file transfer was incomplete, again! This is BULL SHIT! The file is not corrupt, you and I just listened to it! Let me try sending it again.”
“Were the conversations recorded in the news anchor’s office?”
“Yes, one of my reporters managed to bug the World News Network anchor’s office; Deena Crawford was the only female on the call.”
“Ms. Crawford had the heavy Boston accent, right?”
“Yes, she’s the one who made it clear she was expecting the lion’s share of the credit for uncovering the story.”
Lucy clicked the file transfer icon again.
10% Complete...
20% Complete...
“Anything yet?”
30% Complete...
40% Complete...
“Nothing yet.”
“Damn, the internet is never this slow.”
“This is not normal?”
“No...how much have you received, so far?”
“It looks like seventy megabytes.”
Lucy looked at the file size, “One-hundred, five megabytes.”
“Give it one more minute,” responded Victor over the connection. “Sometimes large files take a little longer.”
50% Complete...
60% Complete...
“Let me ask you a couple questions while we’re waiting. I jotted a few of the names down. Let me run them by you.”
“Go ahead.”
“Who is the person referred to as Donald?”
“Donald has got to be the World News Network publisher, Donald Abraham.”
“...and Jim?”
“Jim is most certainly Jim Rooney, Senate Majority Leader.”
“Lucy, what was your read on the Senator’s demeanor in the conversations?”
Lucy nervously laughed, “Yes, he was nothing like the hard-nosed character we see on the news networks was he?”
70% Complete...
“What about Nelson?”
“My guess it would have to be Nelson Frank, Martinez’s Chief of Staff.”
80% Complete...
Victor remained silent for a moment, and then continued, “Then Adduci has to be the DNC Chair.”
“Yes, no doubt about it.”
90% Complete...
Any objective person listening to the conversations would be under no illusion what the participants were up to. The “war crime charges” were merely a smoke screen the administration needed to implement its agenda, whatever that was. The trumped up charge would merely create the front-page headlines to keep the public’s eye off what the Democrats were doing; Nelson and Adduci had said so much in the audio clips.
100% Complete...File Transfer Complete
“Thank God, one-hundred percent up...”
Lucy’s assistant came barging into her office. “Ms. Dietrich, it was Te
lly! Telly’s SUV was what exploded on the expressway!”
“Telly?” asked Lucy, puzzled for the moment.
“Yes, it was Telly!”
“Lucy, who is Telly?” asked Victor.
----------
WASHINGTON, D.C. - Senator Robert Burton was sitting behind his desk in his townhouse when he heard the remote buzzer for his security gate. The Senator looked at the security camera to see a Federal Express deliveryman, and ten put the thumb-drive away in a drawer and locked it.
He pressed the two-way audio button. “Yes, can I help you?”
The deliveryman responded, “Special delivery for Senator Robert Burton—it requires a signature.”
“Okay, just a moment. Let me get my glasses.”
Senator Burton received one more overnight package just a half-hour earlier from the same courier. That delivery showed the sender’s address from Lucy Dietrich. When he opened the small shipping box he discovered it contained a small, USB thumb-drive and a small note.
Senator Burton,
The audio recordings on this device are evidence that President McKinley is being set up. Please use your connections and influence to help put a stop to this travesty.
Lucy
(Code is fJ57y23)
The Senator took the storage device out and plugged it into his laptop. The icon for the external storage device instantly popped up on his computer screen, and when he double-clicked it to take a look at the contents, he was prompted to enter a password. He was just about to enter the passcode from Lucy’s note when the second courier arrived.
The Senator opened the front door and was asked to sign for the parcel.
“Where do I sign?”
The courier handed him a clipboard while maintaining his hold of the package.
"Sign right here, sir," the courier pointed to a signature box on a standard looking Federal Express document.
The Senator then heard several muffled sounds...
Pop!...Pop!...Pop!
...quickly followed by a stabbing pain in his abdomen as his body uncontrollably reeled backwards. He involuntarily let out a scream of pain and collapsed to the entryway floor, his bloody hands clutching his midsection.
The man in a courier suit walked through the doorway and stood over him with his silenced pistol in hand. He heard his wife’s voice in the distance. He filled his lungs to yell for her to run while the assassin took aim at his face. Time seemed to be going by in slow motion as the pain was replaced with numbness. With his last breath he shouted out,
“Run, Agnes!...Ru…"
Pop!
GOING ROGUE