Free Fall

Forty-Eight

Manhattan, New York

“We’ve got to look into this,” Chuck told Kate on the phone.

She’d reached him while he was at the Hemingway exhibit at the Morgan Library in Midtown Manhattan. After she told him about her tip regarding Project Overlord and sent him the attachment, Chuck said he wanted to meet at Bryant Park.

Kate, Grace and Vanessa took a cab there from the Shake Shack. Chuck was waiting at a table near the carousel. It was nice to see him without a button-down shirt and tie, casual in a navy polo shirt and khakis. But the expression on his face was all business. Vanessa and Grace lined up for a ride on the carousel, leaving Kate and Chuck to talk.

“We may have something here,” he said. “But there are concerns. Is the document genuine, or are we being set up? Is this guy a nut, or the real deal?”

“I certainly had the same concerns.”

“After you called and sent me the attachment, I sent it to Yardley at our DC bureau.”

“What’s he think?”

“We’ll find out soon. He’ll be calling me.”

As if on cue, Chuck’s phone vibrated and he answered.

“Laneer.”

As he listened, Kate waved to Grace, who passed by laughing on a white horse. The carousel huffed out organ music as Vanessa took pictures.

“Okay, Tim, I’m putting you on Speaker.” Chuck adjusted his phone and set it on the table. He and Kate leaned in to hear Yardley without increasing the volume. There was no risk of them being overheard above the squealing children and other sounds of the park.

“I’ve never heard of Project Overlord,” Yardley said. “But there’ve always been rumors the government was working on something along those lines after 9/11.”

“What about the document? Does it look real?” Chuck asked.

“It does, but there’s no surefire way for us to test its authenticity without raising flags. If I started showing it to national security sources here, we’d tip our hand.”

“We could take it to the FBI, see what they’ll confirm?” Kate asked.

“No,” Chuck said.

“But we’ve been doing well with them,” Kate said.

“No, your caller’s scared. He trusts you. No, you get to him first and get the records.”

“I just thought we could leverage something from the FBI because we’re always pushing them to give us stuff,” Kate said.

“That’s how it is. That’s our job. We traffic in information-that’s our role. We’re not police informants. We’ve already alerted them to the security and safety aspects of this story. We are not partners with law enforcement. They’ll do a criminal investigation and we’ll do a journalistic one.”

“I agree with Chuck, Kate,” Yardley said.

“What’s your take on sending Kate to California, based on what we have?” Chuck asked.

“I’d send her to meet the source, get a read on him, get the documents. We can work on verifying them. If it goes south, all it’ll cost you is the trip. Otherwise, if you fumbled on the real deal, someone else will score on you.”

“Agreed. Thanks, Tim.” Chuck hung up and looked at Kate. “I’ll send you to California to pursue this, but with a few conditions. Go as soon as you can make arrangements with your source and our travel office. But you’re not going alone. You’ll go with a photographer.”

“What? Why?”

“It’s my job to watch out for you and put this into context. Look at all that’s happened to you with this story. I’m not taking any risks.”

“Neither am I. I’m a big girl, and I’ve been covering crime stories on my own for years. I can handle myself.”

“Fine. You can fly out alone, but once you land you’ll go everywhere you need to go with a photographer from our Los Angeles bureau. I’ll advise our LA folks to line someone up for you. They won’t like it. Bureau people are touchy about national staff working in their yard. Just so we’re clear, my terms are nonnegotiable. And you’ll check in with me at every step.”

He looked at her for a long, serious moment.

“Is that understood, Kate?”

“It is.”

“Good.” He nodded to Grace and Vanessa. “You have two good reasons to be careful.”

Chuck was right, Kate thought, while watching Grace’s reflection in the subway window during the ride home to Morningside Heights.

She was sleeping on Kate’s shoulder. Kate put her arm around her.

Vanessa smiled at them and took a picture.

Later that day, she took two more calls from “Malcolm Grady.” Only after assurances that she hadn’t informed any law enforcement or federal security agency about Project Overlord did he provide an address and a time for Kate to meet him.

The next morning Kate called Newslead’s travel office, and they got her a direct flight that afternoon out of JFK.

Her flight was with American Airlines, the aircraft an Airbus A321-a great airline and a great plane. Nothing to do with Richlon-Titan. Kate had no fear of flying. Because of her job she’d flown many times, and it was about as stressful to her as crossing the street.

As the engines whined and the jet raced down the runway and lifted off, forcing her deep into her seat, a bad feeling began to steal over her.

Images of the terror inside the EastCloud flight and the fiery Heathrow crash blazed in her mind. Her jet climbed and she fought the fear mounting in her heart until she choked it off.

At last, the plane leveled.

Kate took a deep breath, letting it out slowly while searching the clouds and wondering what awaited her in California.