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She is cooler than I thought she’d be, given her outburst over the first Olympic column. But I can see her gripping her briefcase so tightly that her already white skin is nearly translucent.
“Please move.”
“I like it here.”
“Then I will.” She starts to stand but is pushed back in her seat as the bus blasts out of the transit tunnel and starts its way east.
“Don’t you want to know why I’m here?” I say it in a conversational tone, smiling at her as if we were ordinary seat-mates on the commute home.
“I don’t want to know,” she hisses. “I want you to move.”
“We’re set to go with a story on Olympic Defense Systems. The CIA connection.” I say this in the same tone of voice but slow it down for emphasis. I watch her body go rigid. “We know everything, Heidi.”
She stares ahead and I can almost see her eyes start to fill with tears. They suddenly dry up like a desert lake. “You’re bluffing.”
“You know I’m not.”
“Now you listen to me!” She turns to the side and nearly leans over me. She stabs her finger toward my face. “This little ambush tactic is not going to work. I don’t know who you think you are. We’ve dealt with your publisher. This has been settled. The Free Press is not publishing anything.”
She becomes aware of the people watching her and slowly settles back in her seat, nervously running her left hand through her hair. It’s nice hair. What a waste. Her phrasing is interesting: “We’ve dealt with your publisher.” I wait to respond until we are halfway across Lake Washington. The bus sits so high on the floating bridge that it seems as if we are hydroplaning across the dark water. If we went off the road no barrier could save us. No exits would work. The water would be fatally cold. I make myself avoid looking.
“It’s too bad the way they always cut the flacks out of the real deal,” I say. “So I’m trying to help you do your job. The fact is, the four days of stories are already set to go. They’ve been edited and lawyered. And I mean lawyered to death. We’ve got the CIA connection nailed. The same with Troy Hardesty and Animal Spirits.” Her face winces as if I have slapped her. “We’re already bullet-proof. I’ve tried to give you a chance to be more open…”
She starts to speak but nothing comes out of her mouth.
“But you’ve stonewalled us. So this is your last chance. We always want to be fair and accurate. From the number of documents and sources we have, I know we’re being accurate. But I told the editors I wanted to make one more try. It’s only in your interest to have the company’s voice in these stories. To respond to the issues that they raise. And, Heidi, nobody deals with the Sterling family when the integrity of their newspaper is involved.”
Brave talk but I pull it off. She pulls her slim frame as close to the window as possible. Her eyes are glassy. I wonder how much of this information she is even privy to. I know I haven’t put the puzzle together. But her reaction tells me I am on the right path.
Finally, she gives a raspy, “What do you want?”
“I want an interview with Pete Montgomery.”
“That’s impossible. He’s the chief executive officer.”
“That’s the point. If Steve Ballmer and Howard Schultz talk to me, I think Pete can, too.”
“I’ll call our lawyers.” Her voice gains a little steel.
“You certainly can. But I have a deadline.”
She sighs.
“And I want to visit the ODS headquarters.”
“In D.C.? That’s out of the question.”
“I hear there’s a facility in Arizona. That will do.”
She refuses to make eye contact. I put my hand on her shoulder and she shivers.
“Don’t dick me around, Heidi.” I am smiling and my voice is almost a whisper. “This story will run with or without you. You know we’ll do it. We’ve done it before.”
Then I stand and walk to the back of the bus where I find an empty seat. I watch her motionless head until the bus takes the exit for the Eastgate Park and Ride station. She makes it a point to take the front door so she doesn’t have to see me. Out on the asphalt, she walks toward her car checking behind her to make sure I am not following.
“She’s quite a bitch, isn’t she?”
I turn to the man sitting next to me. He’s slender, with high cheekbones, olive-brown skin and dressed in regulation Friday casual. I’d guess he’s on the downside of forty.
