by Tate, Harley
Lainey exhaled. She needed Becky’s knowledge. It was the first step in figuring out whether the threat Midge shared was real. No backing out now. She focused on the mic pinned to Becky’s lapel and tried to keep her voice even. “I’ve got credible evidence of an imminent attack on the United States.”
“Aren’t you a little late?” Becky almost laughed out loud. “We might have been stuck on the side of the road all afternoon, but even we know about the alleged bomb.”
“Not the explosion that caused the blackout. Something worse. Nuclear bombs detonating on the ground in the top twenty-five largest cities.”
Becky snorted in disbelief. “You can’t be serious.”
“Where’d you get this information?” Chuck set down the cable he’d been spooling and leaned closer to Lainey.
“Confidential source.”
“Why isn’t the station running with it?”
“Because I don’t have definitive proof and Matt’s worried about a panic.”
“But you think it’s legit?” Chuck stared at her with an intensity that lifted the hairs on the back of her neck. It was one thing to argue with her boss over running the story or to ask Rick to look into things. But telling people she hardly knew that LA might turn into a radioactive crater any minute?
She shivered despite the sweat still dampening her hairline. “I do. Los Angeles is a target. San Francisco, San Diego, and Phoenix are, too. Not to mention New York and DC.”
“You mean it? This isn’t some ploy to get Becky to give up her spot?”
Lainey glowered at Chuck.
After a moment, he dumped the cable on the floor of the van and jumped down. “I’m sorry, Becky. I’ve got a wife and kid. I can’t stay here if they aren’t safe.”
Her mouth fell open. “But who’s gonna be my cameraman?”
“Ask him.” Chuck pointed at Keith. “I’ve got to go.”
As he took off, loping toward the street and the chaos of the never-ending traffic, Lainey turned back to Becky. They were wasting too much time. “Please, Becky. Tell me what you know.”
“You really think it might happen? A nuclear bomb here in LA?”
Lainey nodded. “I’m guessing we’re pretty close to the detonation zone.”
Becky’s eyes widened and her chest rose as she sucked in a deep breath. “Okay. Take the story. I’m not vaporizing into some radioactive dust cloud because I happened to be here first.” She reached for a briefcase tucked into the corner and shoved a hairbrush and a half-empty water bottle inside.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting out of here.” Becky didn’t look up. “Take the story. Take the van. I don’t care anymore.”
Lainey reached out and grabbed the other reporter’s arm. “You can’t leave until you tell me everything. What did the FBI say?”
Becky yanked her arm away. “You said you watched the piece. That’s it. That’s all they’ve said.”
Lainey staggered back. “What? But that’s ridiculous. They didn’t give you anything.”
“Exactly.” Becky shoved the bag over her shoulder and clambered down. “They wouldn’t tell me a damn thing.”
“So all this time you’ve been reporting…”
“I’ve been stalling at Matt’s insistence. He said it was important for appearances’ sake.”
Anger roiled up inside Lainey so fast, a string of curses flew from her mouth. She slammed a fist on the side of the van. “That’s it! If Matt wants a story, he’s going to get a story.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Lainey fumed. “I’m going into that FBI office and I’m not leaving until they tell me the truth.” She squared her shoulders and turned to Keith. “Then we’re going to use this van to broadcast whether Matt approves or not.”
Becky lingered by the van door, mouth hanging open. “You really want to risk your job like that?”
“By tomorrow we might not have a city, let alone jobs.”
As the import of Lainey’s words sank in, Becky’s grip tightened on the straps to her bag. Her knuckles paled and she took a step back. “I should get my mom and get out of here.”
“Good idea.” Lainey didn’t wait for Becky to say goodbye. She was already rummaging through the van for a tape recorder and a battery-powered microphone. As Keith leaned in to help, Lainey paused. “You should go, too.”
“What?”
Lainey refused to meet his stare. “I should never have asked you to come with me. What if there’s a bomb already in the city? We could die before we figure out the truth. You should go home and pack and get out of here.”
Keith reached for her hand. “I’m not leaving you.”
Lainey swallowed. “What about Bear?”
“He’ll be okay for a few more hours.”
Part of Lainey wanted to argue more and demand Keith look after himself, but another part was relieved. She wouldn’t be on this crusade alone. They could figure out the truth together.
She held up the tape recorder and pointed up at the Federal Building. “Let’s see if we can do any better than Becky.”
Chapter Nine
LAINEY
FBI Field Office
Los Angeles, California
Friday, 8:45 p.m. PST
Lainey checked her watch and puffed out a frustrated breath. Half an hour and not a peep from a single agent. Every second ticking by marked off another wasted moment. Sitting in an air-conditioned waiting room while half of the country devolved into chaos from the biggest blackout in history was bad enough. Waiting around while a nuclear bomb ticked toward detonation was another.
Just wait a little longer. She crossed and recrossed her legs, bounced her foot up and down a hundred times, and checked her watch again. Nothing eased the sour roil of her stomach. That’s it! I can’t take it! Lainey stood. “We should go.”
Keith side-eyed her from his seat, but didn’t move. “The FBI is our best option.”
“They aren’t going to tell us anything!” Lainey threw up her hands and stomped across the waiting area, gesticulating at nothing and everything all at once. “They won’t even send an agent out here!”
The receptionist was one of those career women who’d perfected the art of “statue face.” She stared Lainey down over the rim of her reading glasses, a mix of condescension and disapproval tipping her lips into a frown. It took all of Lainey’s self-control not to channel a petulant fifteen-year-old and stick her tongue out. Didn’t the woman understand millions of lives were at stake?
Lainey spun and reached for her bag. “We can’t waste any more time.”
“We should give them an hour at least.” Keith patted the seat beside him. “Sit down and try to relax.”
She hesitated. Relax? Was he serious?
He leaned forward. “For all we know, every agent is mobilized and already out there searching for a bomb.”
The retort on the tip of Lainey’s tongue turned into a grumble. She’d been so focused on meeting with an agent—any agent—that she hadn’t stopped to consider what the FBI might already know. If they were hunting down bombs all over the country, they didn’t have time for a nosy reporter and her cameraman.
She eased back into the chair and lowered her voice so Ms. Crabby Pants at reception couldn’t hear. “You think they’ll tell us anything?”
“Assuming someone gives us the time of day? Maybe.”
They lapsed into silence for a few minutes, Lainey lost in thought about Midge and her mother and the FBI’s possible response to a coordinated terrorist attack. Panic inched up her throat. They were sitting ducks.
“I saw that piece you did on the aqueduct. It’s a shame Matt wouldn’t run with it.”
Lainey gave a start. That piece had been mothballed before it even made it to the editing desk. “How—”
“Did I see it?” Keith shrugged. “Mike showed it to me. He thought it had real potential.”
“It did.” Lainey leaned back and focused on the c
eiling. When she’d first learned about the history of the aqueduct, it blew her away. The miles of concrete permanently changed the ecosystem of nearby local lakes, rendering some completely barren in a handful of years. But it wasn’t only the landscape that suffered; at least forty-three men died during construction and many more were injured.
She turned toward Keith, worries about potential bombs temporarily banished to a corner of her mind. “Did you know if the aqueduct hadn’t been built, LA wouldn’t have grown larger than about three hundred thousand people? That’s all the local area supported without more water.”
Keith whistled. “A little different than the thirteen million here now.”
That was for sure. They wouldn’t be the entertainment capital of the world or the target of a bomb.
“Apart from Matt crushing your journalistic dreams, what else have you been up to?”
Lainey blinked. Why did Keith care? “It doesn’t matter.”
“We have to pass the time somehow.”
Lainey focused on a stain on the carpet in front of her chair. “My mom moved to Chicago last year, into one of those modern condo units with a view of the city. My sister’s back in school. No run-ins with the cops lately, thank goodness.”
Keith snorted. “Until now, that is.”
The facts of Midge’s discovery dragged Lainey back into the present and she choked down a sudden sob. “I hope they’re all right.”
Keith’s hand landed softly on her shoulder and he squeezed. “You said Midge went to find your mom, right? Then you have to hope she made it and they are together right now.”
“What if—” She faltered. “What if the plane—” Lainey couldn’t say the words. She couldn’t voice the fear pushing her forward despite the overwhelming drive to flee. Was the EMP only the beginning of the end? Were they about to be turned into radioactive ash, or was blackout the worst of their problems?
She checked her watch. Forty-five minutes and no sign of the FBI. She’d promised Keith an hour. She turned back to try his method of distraction. “What about you? Tell me some good news.”
He grunted and picked a piece of lint off his shirt. “Sorry to disappoint.”
“Come on, don’t hold out.” Please. “Is there a girlfriend?”
“Not at the moment.”
Something about the way he said the words pricked Lainey’s curiosity, but the crossed arms and deepening scowl warned her off further inquiry. She fidgeted with the hem of her dress. They used to talk for hours. Now questions came out forced and awkward. Was it the breakup or the gravity of their situation? She hadn’t a clue.
Lainey thought about the bombs and the threat of radiation and her ignorance. “Do you know anything about nuclear weapons?”
Keith stuck out his chin as he thought it over. “Not really.”
“We need to find someone who does.”
After a moment, he pulled out his phone, scrolled, and brought it to his ear. A voicemail cut in with a perky woman’s voice chirping through the speaker. As the message ended, Keith cleared his throat. “Hey, Daphne. About that friends thing. I need a favor. Call me back.”
Friends thing? Lainey cocked her head. Keith shrugged.
She opened her mouth to press him on it when the door alongside reception squeaked. An awkward, gangly man more child than agent stood in the doorway. He strode forward, pants short enough to show off his bony ankles.
As he held his badge too close to Lainey’s face, he gave a curt nod. “Agent Baxter. I apologize for the wait.”
Lainey pressed her lips together. This was the best the FBI could do? Was he an intern? A rookie two weeks on the job? She squinted against the glare from the overhead lights to read his ID. Special Agent Andrew Baxter. She held out her hand. “Lainey Sinclair, midday anchor for KSBF.”
He shook her hand. Limp. Clammy. “I hear you have information about the blackout?”
She bit back a grimace. “No, I have information on a credible threat to the United States. Are you the right person to talk to about it?”
Baxter’s pupils dilated and he stammered. “Ah, um, yes. That would be me.”
“Good.” Sometime between Baxter opening the door and his bumbling attempt to introduce himself, Lainey decided transparency would be the best option. No boy agent was going to blow her off. Not when she’d waited this long.
She smiled a reporter smile. “A source came to me this morning with evidence of nuclear bombs en route to the twenty-five largest cities in the United States. The bombs were smuggled through the Port of New York and New Jersey in shipping containers.”
Agent Baxter’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He stared at her lips like they held the recipe for Coca-Cola, the instructions for every piece of Ikea furniture, and the key to understanding women. “Will you excuse me a moment?” Without waiting for her reply, he turned on his heel and disappeared through the door.
“What the—”
Keith almost grinned. “Go you.”
“He left.”
“Because you rattled him.”
“A kitten would rattle that guy. When’d he graduate from college, last week?” She palmed her hips. “He’s not going to listen to us.”
“Someone’s about to.”
Lainey glanced at the receptionist. The woman eyed them both now with more suspicion and curiosity than disapproval. Maybe Keith was right. “You really think they’ll listen?”
“That guy ran out of here like his pants were on fire. You raised an alarm.”
“Is that a good thing?”
“I don’t know.”
“What should we tell him when he comes back?”
Keith hesitated. “Let’s keep it vague to start. See if they share any cards.”
Lainey nodded. Sharing cards was exactly what she needed the FBI to do. If they were going to warn the general public, the FBI needed to give her more than a stammering, sweaty-palmed agent and an empty waiting room.
The door to the back opened again and Agent Baxter motioned toward the hall. “If you two will come with me, we can discuss what you’ve found.”
Keith stood and Lainey followed a moment later. It had taken longer than she’d wanted, but maybe they would finally get some answers. Maybe she would find out everything Midge uncovered was wrong. Lainey crossed her fingers as she eased past Agent Baxter and through the door.
Chapter Ten
KEITH
FBI Field Office
Los Angeles, California
Friday, 9:45 p.m. PST
After convincing Lainey to tough out the wait, Keith hoped like hell Agent Baxter delivered more than a voice crack and a nervous smile. They needed information fast. If the FBI refused to confirm or deny Midge’s intelligence, they would be back at square one without a single shot at an approved broadcast. No one at KSBF would air Midge’s conspiracy theories without some sort of proof.
Agent Baxter opened the door to a small conference room and ushered them inside. His eyes darted from Keith’s face to his backpack to his thick hands as Keith eased past. All the tells of a kid fresh out of college without a clue as to his actual job.
“Can I get you anything? Coffee? Water?”
“We’ve been waiting an hour and you’re asking for our drink order?” Lainey stood beside the conference table, arms folded across her chest.
The FBI agent’s throat practically convulsed as he tried to swallow. “Just being polite.”
“How about you do your job, instead? Unless that is your job, Agent Baxter.”
Keith stifled a snort. The kid probably fetched more coffee than Bear fetched tennis balls. “I’d love a water.”
Lainey cut Keith a glance but he ignored her. They needed a minute alone. As Agent Baxter nodded and let the door swing closed, Keith surveyed the room. Not good. He shrugged off his backpack and pulled out a small notebook and a pen and scrawled out a message.
Cameras at three, twelve, and nine. Mic in the middle of the table. Everything we say and do is recor
ded. Be careful.
He tugged the paper off the pad and handed it over to Lainey. “I just thought of a few questions. You’ve probably got a way bigger list.”
She took the paper with a frown. “I don’t think we need—” As soon as she read the message, her voice faltered. It took her a moment to recover. “Of course. You’re right.” She managed a smile as she pointed at the paper. “I hadn’t thought about this one for sure.”
Good recovery.
Keith flopped into the nearest chair like he couldn’t care less about the world turning upside down outside. Play it cool. Just play it cool. He ran a hand through his hair and checked his watch. Ten already. Bear would be lying down beside the front door, waiting and listening for any sign of his owner coming home. Hold on, boy. I’m coming for you.
Lainey pulled out the chair next to Keith and slipped into it, the piece of paper he’d handed her folded in half in her hand. She heaved her tote bag on top of the conference table and rooted through it, head half buried inside.
She waggled the paper inside the bag. She’d written Should we go? in large letters.
Keith made a point of stretching and yawning as wide as a cavern. He propped his feet up on the conference table. “If Agent Baxter doesn’t get back here soon, we’ll have to bail. I’m beat.”
Lainey chewed on her lip. Her nerves were getting to her. Keith tried to ease her fears. “But I guess what’s a little waiting around, huh? Not like I can’t sleep in tomorrow.”
She tried to make small talk. “You have the day off?”
“You betcha.” Keith lobbed a smile her way. The more routine their conversation, the calmer Lainey became and the more the FBI agents watching and listening would grow weary and quit observing them.
After another few minutes, the door opened. A man a few years older than Keith, with gray at his temples and a craggy chin, stepped inside. He tossed a bottle of water and Keith caught it one-handed.
“Ms. Sinclair, Mr. Harper, my apologies on the wait. I’m Agent Winston Perkins.”