Man of Steel

by Dave Conifer

  Eastern Steel, still the nation’s largest producer of steel, is headquartered in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. The company underwent a major diversification in 1974, at which time its name was changed to Eastern Resources Consortium or ERC.

  -- Chapter 29 --

  Dawn was still an hour or two away and Jonas was on his way back to bed after gulping some water when he heard Reno say his name. The story had been finished and the lights turned out. He hadn’t been able to turn off the adrenaline and apparently she hadn’t either.

  “Yeah?” he called back into the darkness.

  “Do you think we’ll make it?” she asked. “We’re in this pretty deep.”

  He walked over and sat on her bed. “I don’t know.”

  “I don’t either,” she said. “I’m scared.”

  “Me too. The best thing we can do right now is get some sleep.”

  “I don’t think I can.” She put a hand on his leg. “Why don’t you get under the covers with me. At least we can be scared together.”

  Without answering, he slipped in next to her after she made room. One of her hands eased inside his shirt to caress his chest while she nuzzled her face into his neck. He didn’t move until he was sure of what was happening. Sliding her hand slowly toward his waist, she kissed him deeply before drawing away.

  “Abby, are you sure?”

  “Hush,” she whispered, drawing a finger over his lips.

  The sun was up when they finally flopped onto their backs, both breathing hard and wiping sweat from their faces. Neither spoke a word.

  ~~~

  Jonas dropped the sheaf of papers on the table and leaned back in his chair. Exhaustion had led to sleep for Reno but he hadn’t been so lucky, so he was looking over the first draft of the article they’d written overnight. It was an odd way to start a Monday. He was hiding from a team of professional killers in a dirty motel room with a woman from Texas that he had known only for a few weeks. The clothes on his back were literally the only ones he had. He was proofreading a handwritten story that probably would never appear in any newspaper. Less than a week had passed since he and Reno had spent those leisurely days researching the story back in Charlotte. If only we could turn back the clock and forget the whole thing.

  “Sorry about last night,” he said when he realized Reno was watching him.

  “Sorry about what?” she asked, smiling. “I’m not sorry about a thing.” She looked at the clock. “And it was only about an hour ago.” With the sheet wrapped around her, she walked over from the bed and kissed him on the forehead. “Time to get dressed,” she said as she headed for the bathroom.

  ~~~

  “This turned out pretty good,” he said a few minutes later when she was back, stretched out on the other bed. “We may have overstated some of our assumptions, but who cares? I think we’re right. Besides, we have to be aggressive. We’re fighting for our lives.”

  “We work well under pressure,” she said. “Too bad it’ll never matter.”

  “You don’t think it’ll be printed either? Damn. I thought you had some hope. That’s what kept me going last night.”

  “I don’t even think we’ll live through this day,” she said. “I just hope it’s quick.” She rolled onto her stomach and turned her face toward the wall.

  “What happened, Abby?” he asked softly. “You weren’t like this last night. All of a sudden you’re giving up? We can still get this done.” He waited but she didn’t respond.

  “I won’t lie,” he said. “I’m scared too. But we still have a chance. Anyway, there’s no point in quitting without taking our best shot.”

  “What if we went to the police or the FBI?” she asked. “We could tell them everything.”

  “I don’t know what they could do, even if they took us seriously,” he said. “We don’t have any proof. We don’t even know who’s after us.”

  “There’s got to be somebody we could go to for protection,” she said.

  “These guys aren’t going away. It’s been twenty years. They’d be even more desperate if we went to the law. There’s no place to go where they couldn’t get to us.”

  “Yeah, but at least they wouldn’t get to us today,” Reno argued.

  “I think the only answer is to get our story published,” Jonas insisted. “That would knock them back on their heels. They killed a president, not us. We’d be the least of their problems. Whoever they are.”

  “Okay,” she said as she sat up. “I’m in. But how do we do it?”

  “I think we should both call our editors. If they think they can run it, maybe we could find a fax machine somewhere. We’ll have to send in our handwritten copy. Best case scenario is that this story hits the streets in twenty-four hours and all our troubles are over,” he said, grinning ear to ear.

  “Yeah, that’ll happen,” she said sarcastically. “But it beats every other scenario. I feel like we can’t even leave this room. I’d like to go out and buy a toothbrush at least, even if I have to keep wearing these clothes.”

  “It’s too risky, don’t you think? They must know we’re not downtown anymore.”

  “Is there any reason we have to stay in Morgantown at all?” she asked. “Maybe we’re making it too easy.”

  “They probably have somebody watching every road. And remember, there’s something important here in Morgantown,” Jonas reminded her. “Besides the Castle Papers, we have Professor Van Scoy. If we level with her about everything that’s happened she might be more helpful. Maybe she’ll even get us in to see the Papers.”

  “The Papers might be a bust and she’s not going to let us see them anyway. I like the idea of running away better.”

  “Even if we could get to our car, it wouldn’t be safe. God help whoever gets in it and turns the key. No, I think our story ends here.”

  “I wish you’d choose your words more carefully,” Reno said.

  “Maybe I did.”

  “I never thought it would come to this.”

  “Me neither. Sorry, Abby. I feel like I dragged you into this.”

  “No. I volunteered.” She rolled off the bed and stood up. “I think I’ll take another shower.”

  “While you’re doing that I’ll try calling in to the office. I’ll introduce myself to my editor and ask him if he wants the biggest story in the history of The Charlotte Sentinel.”

  ~~~

  After Reno left the room Jonas sat on the bed next to the phone. It was going to be a difficult call. He’d kept meaning to check in, but with the explosion and everything else he’d never gotten around to it. Trappe would be angry and wasn’t going to believe a word of what had happened. But he had to try. The stakes were as high as they could be. The story had to be published.

  ~~~

  “Hi, Michelle? This is Joe.”

  “Joe! Where are you? Where have you been?”

  “I’m in West Virginia,” he answered, knowing that would explain nothing. “I told you about the JFK assassination story, didn’t I?”

  “Not that much.”

  “Well, it’s out of control. I had to go back to Pittsburgh, and now I’m here.”

  “But nobody here knows where you are! You didn’t do any travel paperwork! You didn’t even tell anybody you were leaving!”

  “Has anybody noticed?”

  “How should I know?”

  “Good. I really need to talk to Trappe. I have a story but it has to be run as soon as possible. Otherwise it’s too late. Can you get him on the line for me?”

  “I’ll put you through. If he doesn’t answer call me back.”

  He heard a series of clicks and beeps. “Steve Trappe’s office,” a new voice said.

  “Hi, this is Joe Jonas from Metro. I need to speak with Mr. Trappe right away. It’s extremely urgent.”

  “I’m sorry,” the voice said. “He’s in a meeting right now.”

  “Get him out of the meeting. It’s important.”

  “Excuse me?” the voice said indignant
ly. “Who is this?”

  “You heard me,” Jonas said. “Get him on the phone right now. Please.”

  “Just a moment,” she said after pausing.

  Within a minute he heard Trappe’s voice. “Jonas. Where are you?”

  “I’m in Morgantown, West Virginia. I’m working on a story that involves the JFK Assassination. I don’t know if Mr. Burkhardt ever told you about it.”

  “No, he didn’t,” Trappe said. “How did you get your travel voucher approved?”

  “I didn’t. You were always too busy.” He explained everything as quickly as he could, including his working relationship with Reno. “We have to run this now,” he said firmly when he was finished.

  “Settle down,” Trappe answered. “Nobody tries to kill a junior reporter over a story. Who do you think you are?”

  “Somebody is trying to kill me. Why don’t you call over to the Marriott if you don’t believe me? Ask them about my car.”

  “Yes, we heard all about that. You’ll need to do some explaining to the police. I want you back in town by tomorrow morning. Bring what you have and we’ll take a look at it.”

  “I can’t do that, Mr. Trappe. I’m not even sure if I can leave this motel. I can fax the story to you, but if you don’t get moving on it I’ll give it to somebody else.”

  “Be in my office tomorrow morning or you don’t work here anymore. Have the final draft of the story in your hand. Understood?”

  Jonas slammed the phone down in frustration without answering. “Fuck!” he shouted at the empty room. As expected, Trappe hadn’t believed a word of what he’d said, but he didn’t have to be so belligerent about it. He punched the wall, leaving four small round indentations.

  A few minutes later he called Michelle back and told her to look for a fax. “Trappe says he won’t look at it until I’m back in town, but we’re desperate. If I get it to you, will you deliver it to him?”

  “You’re scaring me, Joe,” she said. “Are you okay?”

  “Not really. There’s no time to explain right now.” He scrawled her fax number onto a take-out menu he found in the drawer between the beds.

  After moving the drapes and peering out to make sure nobody was watching, he grabbed a room key and scooped up the pages of the story. The rusty door had to be slammed twice in order to get it to close properly. He scanned the mostly-empty parking lot one floor below through the iron railing that ran the length of the building. The tail of his shredded shirt flapped as he descended a concrete stairway and headed for the office.

  A man with rumply hair and thick glasses looked up from behind the counter before his eyes returned to his newspaper. Jonas spoke loudly at the man as he approached. “Do you have a fax machine?”

  “No,” he answered without looking up.

  “I think you do.”

  “It’s not for guests,” he said, his eyes still glued to the newspaper.

  “I don’t have time for this.” Jonas walked to the end of the counter and pushed his way through the half-door that swung back and forth after he passed. “Where is it?”

  The man stared. Jonas knew he was trying to decide if it would be easier to give in. “This needs to go out right the fuck now. And I might have another one in a few minutes,” he added, remembering that they might also be faxing the story to Austin. “If I do I’ll be back and you’ll let me use it again.”

  “All right, all right, keep your shirt on,” the man said. “Let me finish this page.”

  Jonas didn’t wait. He walked around a corner and found the machine. He would have to make his best guess on how to operate it because the lazy clerk wasn’t going to help. He laid the sheets facedown on the intake tray, typed in the number Michelle had given him and waited. “Yes!” he yelled when he heard the warble of a fax machine on the other end of the connection. On his way out he noticed that the clerk hadn’t even moved. “Thanks. I might be back with another one.”

  Reno was on the phone with a worried expression on her face when he returned to the room. “No, that’s not a good idea,” she said before turning to face Jonas. “We can’t get out right now.” She was having the same conversation he’d had with Trappe a few minutes earlier.

  She continued to look at Jonas while listening to whoever was on the line. “No. You don’t understand. If we went back for the car they’d kill us. There’s no way I can get home.” She listened to the response. “I’m as calm as I need to be,” she said. “There’s nothing the police can do.” Another pause. “No, don’t bother. Thanks for nothing.” Jonas could hear a squawking voice as Reno pulled the receiver away from her ear and hung up. “That was my editor. She thinks I’m nuts. I explained it and she just didn’t believe me. She told me to get on a plane home and then we’ll talk about the story. I couldn’t make her understand that we can’t just walk out of here and head to the airport. Can’t she see that I’d give anything to be able to do that?”

  “I didn’t do any better,” Jonas said. “My editor was pissed off that I was on the road. I just faxed the article in but I doubt if he’ll do anything with it. We should fax it to your editor too. Maybe one of them will change their mind.”

  “I’m really scared, Joe. They know we don’t have a car. I’m sure they staked out every rental agency within a hundred miles, so we can’t get one. Same for bus stations and airports. We’re stuck here and they know it. Eventually they’ll find us.”

  “I’m scared too. Let’s gather up all our stuff just in case we need to make a quick getaway,” Jonas said. “And we should get rid of what we can’t carry. Especially that goddamned Warren Report.”

  “I’ll be glad to see it go. I wish I’d never seen it in the first place.” Reno said. “But what do I do with it?”

  “There’s a dumpster out back.”

  “I don’t want to go outside. I’ll just shove them under the bed for now. You still don’t think the professor would help us out?”

  “I’m not sure,” Jonas answered. “I don’t get the impression she knows as much as we do. She might not believe us. Nobody else seems to.” He walked over to the window and peeked out. “Do you think we need to leave?”

  “We don’t have any place to go. Let’s try staying here one more night.”

  “Okay,” Jonas said. “It’s about four o’clock now. I’ll call again in an hour. Maybe Trappe liked what he read.”

  -- Chapter 30 --

  Braden nodded at the two men in the lobby of the Hotel Morgan. He didn’t remember their names or even recognize their faces, but he knew they worked for him. Why else would they be there? There was no need to stop at the front desk because Marino had booked the entire fifth floor as a command post. He wished he’d brought his suitcase in. A fresh shirt would have been nice after sweating through his clothes on the ride down from Pittsburgh, even with the air conditioning in the Lincoln turned all the way up.

  He rode the elevator upstairs and then followed the sound of arguing voices. Without bothering to check numbers he walked into a room to which the door had been propped open with a trash can. “Pretty lax, gentlemen,” he said. The heads of all four men, dressed in dark suits and gathered around a small table, snapped in his direction. “I could hear every word as soon as I stepped off the elevator.”

  “Mr. Braden!” Marino said. He leaped out of his chair and over to the entrance, where he nudged the trash can out of the way and pulled the door closed. “We weren’t expecting you.”

  “Apparently not,” he said as he removed his tie and popped open the top buttons of his damp shirt. “What’s happening? Where are they?”

  “They checked in last night. We’ve got every exit covered. It’s only a matter of time.”

  “A matter of time? Are you telling me they’re right here in this building?” Braden asked, dumbfounded. “And you haven’t found them yet? It’s now Monday afternoon. That’s almost twenty-four hours. Where are they? Still in their room? Have you checked room service records?”

  “We got a
look at registrations,” Marino said. “None of them matched up. We’ve been handing out cash to every maid and bellhop we can find but none of them were any help.”

  “You don’t really believe they’re here, do you Marino?” Braden asked. “I know I don’t.”

  “I don’t know how they could have gotten out,” Marino said before blowing out a long breath and plopping backwards onto a chair. “But we should have found them by now. There are only thirteen floors in this building.”

  “So think it through,” Braden said. “Where could they be? Do they know anybody here? It’ll be tough finding them in a college town. It’s crawling with people who look just like them.”

  “I don’t know where they could go,” Marino said. “It’s not like they know anybody here.”

  “The car’s still here?”

  “Right where they left it, on the street a few blocks away.”

  “I think they’re still in town. We need to watch every airport, bus terminal and rental agency within twenty miles. If anybody tries to leave town on roller skates I want to know about it.”

  “I already have that taken care of,” Marino said.

  “How many extra men do you have?” Braden demanded.

  “There are twenty available. Everybody else has an assignment already,” Marino answered.

  “We have that many here?”

  “Most of them don’t know much,” Marino said.

  “It’s not going to matter anymore after this. They’re here. We’ll find them.”

  “Frank!” yelled Jerry Bremer as he burst into the room. “We have major trouble!” He slammed the door behind him and rushed past the men in suits. “Oh. Mr. Braden. I didn’t know you were here.”

  “What happened?” Braden said.

  “I just got a call,” Bremer said. “Somebody from the newspaper in Charlotte called the ERC Public Relations Office to get some background information on Kent Castle. One of our people who fronts in that office took the call. She played along with it. But the questions started hitting home. He asked about Kennedy and PT 109. Then he asked about the price hike in 1962. This is bad. She knew we were in trouble so she told him she’d call him back.”