"That was a short circuit. We get those from time to time. Back when Cheeta Ching was working here, one of them up and goosed her. She turned around and slapped us with sexual harassment suit. We had to settle out of court."
"Dennis Nealon just attempted to kill Tim Macaw."
"Why would he do that?"
Harold Smith said nothing. His mouth was a compressed, bloodless line.
A shout went up from the control room.
"Hey, KNNN is broadcasting again!"
"Hoorray!" came the muffled voice of Tim Macaw. The MBC anchor was liberated as staffers crowded into the cramped control room to watch the KNNN feed.
Two anonymous KNNN anchors were interviewing one another, interspersed with footage of the downed satellite dishes.
"At this hour," one said, "there has been no word of KNNN owner Jediah Burner and wife, Layne Fondue, missing since the outrageous attack on KNNN's broadcast signal by persons unknown."
"They don't know any more that we do," Macaw said unhappily. Smith noticed that he was standing on the stomach of the dead technical director, Dennis Nealon, in an attempt to see above the heads of the others. Everytime Macaw shifted his feet, blood gurgled from the dead man's open throat and mouth.
While the MBC news staff was fixated on the KNNN broadcast, Harold Smith slipped out a side door and hailed a Checker cab.
Half an hour later, Smith was seated on the bed in a corner room in an aging hotel near Madison Square Garden, his briefcase open on the drumhead-tight bedspread.
The TV was on and Smith was tuned to KNNN. The sound was off. Smith was speaking directly to the President of the United States, straining to be heard over the rock music playing in the background.
"Mr. President, I have made some progress."
"Good. We can use it."
"I have discovered Captain Audion had placed a mole in the MBC news organization."
"A mole?"
"An agent, whose job it was to facilitate the implementation of his blackouts. This man was responsible for the latest demands."
"Was?"
"He is dead. I was unable to interrogate him. It is unfortunate, but even in death he may be useful."
"How?"
"I would like the Secret Service to take possession of the dead man's body and throw a blanket of secrecy over the death."
"I kind of doubt that MBC will go along."
"They will go along, Mr. President. At least long enough for me to implement my plan."
"If you can do that Smith, you're a better man than I am. That MBC White House reporter all but jumped down my throat during my last press conference."
"Thank you for your cooperation," said Smith, hanging up before the President could ask questions that Harold Smith had no time to answer.
Smith logged into his computer and typed up a blind fax. It stated in bare-bones, journalistic sentences, that Dennis Nealon, technical director for MBC's news division, had been taken into custody by the Secret Service in connection with the Captain Audion threat.
Smith transmitted it to all news organizations except MBC.
Then, turning up the sound, he waited for something to happen.
KNNN broke the story first. ANC and Vox followed. Smith flipped between BCN and MBC to see who would jump on the story next. It turned out to be Don Cooder.
His stentorian voice broke in, saying, "This is a BCN Special Report. Good evening. Don Cooder reporting. The latest salvo in the struggle for the soul of broadcast television-if not human civilization-and the faceless monster calling himself Captain Audion has been fired. BCN has just learned that the Secret Service has taken into custody one Dennis Nealon, technical director for the Multinational Broadcasting Corporation, in connection with the Captain Audion terror transmission. Whether this implicates MBC management and we want to be extra, extra careful about this-no one is saying. Officially. The word from MBC is a tight-lipped 'No Comment.' There are no further details available at this time. As always, we here at BCN stand ready to break in with new developments as they happen in this, our continuing effort to stand vigil over your right to know. Now, back to Raven."
For its part, MBC news issued a terse written "no comment" nonrelease unstatement and did not break programming.
Smith smiled thinly. Captain Audion, wherever he was, was certain to panic over the reports. It was reasonable to assume that his agents, whom Smith was now convinced were planted in every broadcast news organization in the country, would hesitate to implement the threatened broadcast blackout set for three days hence.
In the game of high-stakes chess he was playing against an unknown opponent, Harold Smith was confident that he had checked his opposition. Perhaps irrevocably.
Chapter 28
Don Cooder's frozen smile stayed frozen until the tally light over the number one camera winked off. Then he reached under the desk for the producer phone and asked, "How was I?"
"Fantastic, Don," gushed his producer. "As always."
"So what's the latest?"
"Nothing, Don. Our sources have all dried up."
"Can't we get anything out of the Secret Service?"
"They're worse than the CIA. They refuse to talk off the record, never mind on."
"If we send a camera crew over to MBC, how do you think it would play?"
"That's a precedent I don't want to set, Don."
"What the hell's the matter with you? This is big. Maybe the biggest story of the last decade of the twentieth century. We can't just let it go rolling past like sagebrush ahead of a Texas twister."
"Upper management says hands off. They're hoping the Secret Secret rips the lid off this thing before the deadline."
Cooder lowered his voice. "They're not talking about paying, are they?"
"They're not talking. Period."
"Well, next time you talk to them, tell them they'll pay this blackmailer over Don Cooder's dead body."
"Don, you sure you want me to say that?"
"Why not? I'm a man of principal."
"You're also dead last in the news ratings. They're very sensitive about that."
"And if Don Cooder breaks this story, he'll be first in the ratings."
"Don, listen to me: Dieter Banning is dead. That automatically bumps you up a notch. Cheeta has been kidnapped. KNNN is reporting Jed Burner as missing, too. And MBC is hinting that there was an attempt on Tim Macaw tonight. You know what that means?"
"I'm number one?"
"No. It means Captain Audion is targeting news anchors by ratings and your low numbers are probably all that've saved you so far."
"Don Cooder is not afraid of high ratings. He will gladly lay down his life for a solid three share!"
"Fine, Don. But let's not encourage the brass. Don't forget they took a ten-million-dollar insurance policy out on you."
"Good thought. Let's keep this conversation between ourselves, shall we?"
"You got it, Don."
Don Cooder hung up, straightened his tie, and clumped on ostrich hide boots to his office, where he picked up the telephone and dialed a number.
"Frank, it's me again. I need a reality check on something . . ."
Chapter 29
Harold W. Smith left his Rye, New York home the next morning and almost broke his neck tripping over an obstruction on his front step.
Smith recovered his balance, and for a moment his mind refused to accept what his gray eyes told him was on the step.
It was his subscription copy of his morning paper. And it was twice the size of the usual Sunday edition.
Except that this was Saturday. Or Smith thought it was. Was his mind going? Smith stooped to pick up the paper, and a telephone book block of color advertising inserts popped out.
He was forced to set his briefcase down and use both hands to lift the paper. Even then, slippery inserts kept sliding out.
Groaning, Smith carried the paper to his waiting station wagon. He had to make two trips. Finally, briefcase holding down the pile of paper, he drove toward Folcroft.