“Thank you, Walter,” breathed Chase with a deep sense of relief pervading his entire being. “You don’t know how much your support means to me.”
“I think, I do, my boy. Now go out there and show the Globe and Mail what a real newspaper is.”
Chase slowly replaced the phone on the receiver.
Thank you, Walter. The dream can continue.
He now knew what it must be like to score the winning goal in overtime in a Stanley Cup final.
Chase knew he had one more phone call to place. It would be going to London, England and Rupert White.
It was a call he now savored.
Chapter 63
Daily Express Newsroom 9:50 PM
KATIE CANNON walked into the newsroom to the resounding applause of her colleagues.
Donna-Marie Pierce, tears in her eyes, ran up to hug Katie.
Cannon saw Braden Young and Andrew Chase standing at the entrance to Young’s office. Young had phoned Chase to notify him that Katie Cannon had been found.
That was the second piece of really good news Andrew had received that night.
Katie walked over to them. Andrew moved to embrace her. He pulled her body tight against his.
He planted his lips on hers in front of everybody and said: “My dearest darling, I thought I had lost you. I couldn’t bear that prospect. My life would be nothing without you.”
Katie pulled back suddenly feeling embarrassed. “Andrew, please not in front of everybody.”
“I don’t care anymore, Katie. I nearly lost you and I want the world to know about us. It’s time.”
Chase called for the attention of all the employees in the newsroom. Everyone stopped working and turned with rapt interest.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the Daily Express, I want you to know that I love this girl and want to spend the rest of my life with her if she will have me.”
There was a sudden hush in the newsroom. Then the silence was broken with more applause.
The cat was out of the bag.
Katie looked around at the smiling faces of her colleagues. Suddenly she didn’t care anymore that their secret was out in the open.
“I love you too, Andrew. These past few hours have taught me how precious life is. I didn’t know if I would ever see you again. I want to spend my life with you.”
She moved close to him again and they kissed passionately.
“Hear, hear you two,” interrupted Braden Young. “Get a room. But please make it later. Right now Katie owes me a story to close out the Wolfman saga.”
“Right, boss.” She glanced up at the clock on the wall. 9:55 p.m. “You’ll get that story on deadline.” She sat at her computer and started to write.
Katie had never felt so good or so happy in her life.
Chapter 64
Peshawar Associated Press Office 8:05 AM
TREVOR TREVANIAN also felt good.
Despite his tiredness and lack of sleep, he continued to pound away on his laptop keyboard. His body buzzed with adrenaline, fueled by regular transfusions of coffee.
The words began to flow across the pages as he transcribed his interview with Osama bin Laden.
Allah Akbar. God is Great.
That phrase appeared frequently in the text of bin Laden’s comments. For a man who planned killings on a mass scale, there seemed a certain incongruity to the religious fervor he exhibited, Trevanian thought.
But as a journalist, it wasn’t up to him to pass judgment. Leave that up to the readers. His job is to report what the man said. It is for others to decide on the relevance or veracity of bin Laden’s comments.
Trevanian typed a few more sentences, took another swig of his coffee, quite tepid by now.
He typed – 30 – (the traditional ending for journalists) at the bottom of the page and sat back for a breather.
Done.
He took a few minutes to read the copy over and to spell check it on the laptop. A few minor revisions and Trevanian was finished.
He plugged into the Internet and e-mailed the attached document to Braden Young at the Toronto Daily Express.
As he stepped outside the building into bright sunshine, Trevanian paused a moment to allow his eyes to adjust to the light. He saw the streets alive with bicycles, motorbikes, carts pulled by oxen and pedestrians spilling over onto the roadway. Peshawar was awake.
Trevanian suddenly felt bone weary. He headed down the street to the Pearl Continental Hotel. He longed for a hot shower, food and sleep. Plenty of sleep.
He reflected back over the past 24 hours. Much had happened to him. But the end result was that he got the story. That was all that was important. After some rest and recharging the batteries, it would be back to Afghanistan in search of the next big story.
The glamour of a foreign correspondent, he chuckled.
But Trevor Trevanian wouldn’t want it any other way.
Chapter 65
Braden Young’s Office 11:45 PM
``GREAT STUFF. This will really put this newspaper on the world map,” said Braden Young as he completed the final edit on Trevor Trevanian’s Osama bin Laden interview.
“It’s certainly a great scoop,” said Paul O’Connor excitedly. “Our competitors are going to be completely pissed. They’re going to have to report this and credit us in the process since it’s an exclusive interview.”
As with most of Trevanian’s work, little final editing was necessary. The man was a solid writer who knew how to draw the most out of people in an interview. He had captured the essence of this Saudi terrorist mastermind.
Frightening stuff to read, but necessary to let readers in the Western world know that bin Laden was still alive and well. He remains a threat to their security. The threat to the world posed by the late Saddam Hussein pales by comparison, thought Young.
There was a knock on Young’s door and Katie Cannon popped into the office.
“The story on the Wolfman is ready, boss. It’s in the final copy file.” Katie appeared worn out by all that she had experienced this day.
“Great, Katie. Now get yourself on home and get some sleep. Take tomorrow off for some R&R. You’ve more than earned it.”
“Thanks, boss. I might just do that.”
Young looked up at the clock. 11:55 p.m.
“Are we still in time for the final edition?” he asked.
“I think it just went on the presses,” replied O’Connor.
“Well remake the front page, Paul. We’ll have to change that. This is one time the paper can bloody well be late.”
Young picked up the phone and called the pressroom foreman. “Forty years in this business and I’ve always wanted to say that famous phrase: Stop the Presses! This is my chance.”
Braden Young grinned with satisfaction.
Chapter 66
Daily Express Newsroom Friday 12: 01 AM
KATIE CANNON cleared up her desk and grabbed her purse ready to leave.
People on the nightshift were busy at their cubicles readying the copy for the next day’s edition of the paper.
“Can I offer you a lift home, young lady?”
Katie looked up to stare into the smiling face of Andrew Chase. He looked so relaxed as if the world had been lifted from his shoulders.
“Why certainly, kind sir. That would be most appreciated since my car is still disabled.”
Andrew placed his arm around Katie and they walked through the newsroom together. It felt so nice finally to be together out in the open, Andrew thought.
“You seem rather pleased with yourself tonight, Andrew. Did you receive some good news?”
“I got some very good news tonight, my darling. I’ve secured more financing. I won’t have to sell the paper to Rupert White after all. The Daily Express lives on.”
“That’s wonderful news, sweetie. How did Mr. White take it?”
“Rather badly, I’m afraid. He’s threatened to bury me!”
“Well I’m sure that’s not the first time you’
ve faced such threats, Andrew.”
“You’re quite right about that, honey. Now what will it be? Your place or mine?”
Katie looked deep into Andrew’s blue eyes. He leaned toward her and their lips pressed together. She felt the sparks as he kissed her tenderly.
“You choose, darling,” she said. “After all, I have a hunch our address is soon going to be the same.”
They left the newsroom arm-in-arm, hugging each other tightly.
Chapter 67
Daily Express Pressroom 12:30 AM
THE HUM of the Goss, high-speed presses reverberated throughout the large pressroom at the rear of the Daily Express Building.
Braden Young was always awestruck at the sight of these monolithic monsters churning out thousands of sheets of newsprint that comprised a metropolitan daily newspaper.
The Goss Newsliner system at the Daily Express spewed out 90,000 copies of the paper per hour.
It still sent chills down Young’s back to witness the power of these huge presses.
He walked past huge rolls of newsprint dotting the floor of the pressroom. He reached the foot of one of the tall, tower like presses where workers, wearing sound earmuffs, were collecting the papers and bundling them for delivery.
“Evening, Mr. Young. Another one put to bed, eh?” Bob Nickelson, the press foreman grinned as he spoke.
“Right, you are, Bob. But this is one is rather special. It’s been a very good day for the Daily Express.”
Nickelson handed Young one of the papers hot off the press.
The ink was still wet and stained his fingers as he looked at the front page headlines:
OSAMA BIN LADEN TRACKED DOWN
EXCLUSIVE INTERVIEW WITH TREVOR TREVANIAN
_________________________________________________________
WOLFMAN’S REIGN OF TERROR ENDS
By Katie Cannon
________________________________________
CITY COUNCILLORS ON THE TAKE
By Donna-Marie Pierce
______________________________________________________
Young read over the stories on the page. A smile of satisfaction spread over his tired and worn face.
This is what it it’s all about. This makes the pain and struggle all worthwhile.
Young felt proud of his reporters and what they had accomplished today. Getting the news out is often a thankless task, but the public has a right to know and to be informed. That is the root of any democratic society.
We did our duty today and we did it well, Young thought. Tomorrow is another day and we get to do it all over again.
He tucked the newspaper under his left arm and strolled outside. The night sky was clear with a thousand stars twinkling and the moon shining brightly.
The city never sleeps. There are always more stories.
But Braden Young also looked forward to heading home and building a new life and relationship with his daughter Megan.
He was convinced things were going to turn out all right.
Author’s Note
This is my first novel and there are many people to thank in its preparation. My thanks to those family members and friends who read the early drafts and offered useful comments and suggestions to improve the manuscript: Sherry Anderson, Joan Anderson, Peter Anderson, Pat Chipps, Jeff Ingham, Lawrence Otis and John Sloan. Any errors or omissions are entirely the author’s.
About the Author
James A. Anderson is a retired journalist and graduate of McMaster University in Hamilton, Ontario. He lives in London, Ontario, Canada with his wife Sherry and two Basenjis, Remba and Wakili. They have two grown children, Mike and Amanda and four grandchildren, Katie, Trevor, Megan and Leah. Deadline is his first novel.
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