Deadline (9 page)

Things took off from there in their
relationship.

But Katie laid down some firm ground
rules. She wanted to keep their relationship secret for now. They
avoided public places where they might encounter people from work.
They would usually return to her apartment rather than his. She
felt more comfortable there anyway. When Andrew inevitably brought
things to an end between them she would never have gotten used to
the luxury of his world.

Her career was important to her. She
wanted to win the respect of her colleagues for her work. She
didn’t want them thinking her career was being built by sleeping
with the publisher.

Cannon finished transcribing her
notes. She cleared some of the clutter on her desk and glanced up
at the clock on the far wall of the newsroom. 10:58 a.m.

She suddenly felt the need to see
Andrew. She needed to talk to him about the e-mail threat from the
Wolfman. Suddenly, she felt the need for reassurance and his loving
arms.

Normally she would never dream of
going to his office during the workday unless he summoned her. But
this was not a normal day or a normal situation. Cannon first
reached for the phone, but then replaced the receiver.

No, it was better to just go up there
and drop in. She would take a chance he was there and not
busy.

She desperately needed to see him
now.

Chapter 23

Braden Young’s Office 11
AM

YOUNG FELT a sense of unease as he sat
working behind his desk amid piles of paper and reference
books.

The casual observer would see only
chaos. To Young, however, it was organized chaos. He knew just
where things were and could easily lay his hands on a document if
needed. He was always a messy worker. Young was suspicious of
people with tidy desks and no clutter. They couldn’t be very
busy.

Now that the morning story meeting was
out of the way, he had some time to think and all he could think of
was Megan and her problems. Better check on her, he
thought.

He called home and she picked up the
phone after three rings.

“
Hi. Princess – how are
you holding up?” His pet name derived from the fact that as a
little girl, Megan had been consumed with all the Princesses and
the Disney fairy tales -- Sleeping Beauty, Cinderella, Snow White
and Arial, the Little Mermaid. She loved pink and always dressed up
like a princess.

“
Fine, Daddy. How are
things going at work?”

“
Oh, same old, same old.
The usual shit -- murders, fires, robberies, political crime and
corruption – all the finer things about humanity.”

“
Oh, daddy you’re always
so cynical about everything. Most things in life are far better
than you journalists write about. You paint such a dreary picture,
it’s a wonder we all don’t commit suicide.”

“
I know, Princess. You are
always such an optimist. You view the glass half-full. You see
things through rose-colored glasses. You think life is like a fairy
tale. And they all lived happily ever after!”

“
Why not? Is it a crime to
wish for a better world and that people would treat others better?
Deep down, I believe most people are good and want to do the right
thing. We’re human though and we all make mistakes. Speaking of
mistakes, Dennis called me this morning to apologize. He’s in
Toronto at the Westin and wants to meet me for lunch.” Megan
sounded hopeful and enthusiastic at the prospect.

“
Whoa, hold on there kid.
I don’t think you should give that slime ball the time of day just
yet. You only just left him. Don’t let him sweet talk you back. Let
him stew in his juices a while. Likely he has another pair of arms
and bed to get comfort from anyway.”

Braden frowned at this news from his
daughter. She can be so naïve and trusting. She could be setting
herself up to be hurt all over again.

“
Well, I’m going to take
the subway and meet him at the hotel,” said Megan. “I want to give
him a chance to explain. Don’t worry, Daddy. I’m not ready to
forgive and forget so soon. But I feel I need to do this so I can
make a decision on my life.”

“
Fine, sweetie. You know
best. Just be careful. You know I only want what’s best for you. I
have to go now. Things are pretty busy here so probably won’t be
home until after we put the final edition to bed at midnight. But
I’ll come right home.”

Young put the phone receiver back
after Megan assured him he she would be okay.

He still felt uneasy.

Megan was so fragile, like a glass
figurine that could be so easily shattered.

He feared she was setting herself up
to be seriously hurt.

Chapter 24

Tribal Areas 9 PM (Pakistan
Standard Time)

TREVOR TREVANIAN could see
again.

His kidnappers removed his hood. He
blinked his eyes as they adjusted. Night had fallen.

He looked through window of the Lada
and saw nothing but dark desolation. It was a land of sand, gravel
and boulders overlain by silts and clays. The view was of a bleak
and empty countryside.

Trevanian had no idea where they were,
but knew it must be somewhere in the tribal areas of Northern
Pakistan.

The remote Federally Administered
Tribal Areas are a prime training ground for insurgents and a focal
point for terrorists, especially since the 911 attacks. The
region’s predominant ethnic Pashtuns have strongly resisted
Pakistani government rule. This border area is a strong entry point
for the insurgents into Afghanistan.

“
Are we nearly at the end
of this journey?” inquired Trevanian.

“
We will be at our
destination soon, very soon,” muttered Dharwal.

The Lada continued on its journey for
another half-hour. Ahead, Trevanian could see the beginnings of
civilization. It was a town. Not a huge town, but not a small
village either. They passed a gasoline station and then a sign.
Dera.

Throngs of people were milling about.
Many of them were carrying AK-74s and older AK-47s. This looked
like an armed camp for the insurgents. The car suddenly pulled to a
halt in front of a large, red brick building.

Two heavy-set, bearded men in caftans
at the doorway stood guard with AK-74s. There were three other
armed men posted on the roof of the building as
lookouts.

Dharwal and his chubby associate
accompanied Trevanian inside the building. Trevor was taken to a
large room. It was something out of a Sultan’s harem.

An ornate table stood in the centre of
the room on a huge Persian carpet decorated in a deep burgundy.
Around the table were four large chairs with deep cushions and
well-padded backs. They looked very comfortable. The room was
decorated in an Arabic theme. There were many elaborate wall
hangings. Along one wall Trevanian saw a burgundy couch with large
pillows.

“
Mr. Trevanian, welcome to
our humble abode. I trust that your journey was not too
uncomfortable,” said a lanky, bearded man. He wore a long, charcoal
grey caftan. He extended a sinewy arm and Trevanian shook
hands.

What the hell is this? They kidnap me
at gunpoint and bring me from Kandahar to some god-forsaken hole in
Pakistan and then exchange pleasantries like it’s some kind of
business trip.

“
Thank you,” Trevanian
replied politely. “But why have you brought me here? This is a
rather strange invitation. You’ve scared the hell out of me. Is
this a kidnapping or what?”

“
Oh, most certainly not,
Mr. Trevanian. You are in no danger. You will be free to leave
after your assignment is completed. We will escort you to the
nearest large city in Pakistan to file your story. I apologize for
the manner in which you were brought here, but security is
paramount for us. We had to be sure that no one knew of this in
advance and where you would be going.”

“
What assignment and what
story are you talking about? What is here that could possibly
interest me or my readers?” asked a perplexed Trevanian. “If you
have a story to tell, a simple invitation would have sufficed. You
wouldn’t have to kidnap me if there is a real story
here.”

He was starting to feel a lot better
about his situation now. He felt more confident since it appeared
he hadn’t been kidnapped for ransom or worse.

“
As I stated, Mr.
Trevanian. It was a matter of highest security,” said the al-Qaida
man. “The reason you have been summoned here will become clear
shortly. Your reputation as a journalist on Afghanistan affairs is
well known and respected internationally. Your reports are fair,
even handed and balanced, unlike many of your compatriots who
parrot their government lies, especially the Americans. As a
Canadian journalist, you have shown an understanding for our
struggle even if you do not support it.”

The man introduced himself as Kaffir
Al-Ghazi, a media relations spokesperson for al-Qaida. He made it
sound like he was representing just another company trying to get
across its message or “spin”.

Only this company was comprised of
terrorists who thought nothing of killing and maiming to make their
point and to gain the attention of the world’s press.

Al-Ghazi knew Canada well since he
spent four years in Montreal in the 1980s studying at McGill
University. He was Saudi Arabian and his English was
perfect.

“
You have been specially
chosen to conduct an interview. There will be no preconditions and
you are free to ask whatever questions you desire. We want to get
our message across to your North American audience. I am sure your
story will be picked up by other media and this will be a
journalistic coup for you, Mr. Trevanian.”

“
But who am I going to
interview?”

“
That will become clear
soon enough. But first you must rest, have some food that I will
send in and prepare for your interview. It will be in about an hour
or so. Do you need anything?”

“
Fortunately I brought
along my digital recorder and Powerbook with me. But I would like a
notebook and pen to take a few notes also. It helps me organize and
expedites things.”

“
That will be no problem.
I will see you have them. It is now just after 9 p.m. Pakistan
time, so we will back about 10:30 p.m. for the interview. You may
have as long as you like.”

Al-Ghazi left the room.

Trevanian placed his recorder and
laptop on the table and sat in one of the chairs. He checked his
watch and noticed it was still on Afghanistan Daylight Savings
Time.

Pakistan stays on Standard Time year
round and is ninety minutes ahead of Afghani time and 10 hours
ahead of North American Eastern Daylight Saving Time. Trevanian
adjusted his watch to the local time – 9:15 p.m.

A woman garbed in a long chador and
the traditional headscarf of conservative Muslims brought in a tray
of food. It was laden with baked pita bread, assorted cheeses,
fruit and baklava. Trevanian ate wolfishly. It had been several
hours since his last meal.

I should begin preparing for this
interview. But how do I even start when I don’t even know whom I
will be interviewing? Still, it must be a senior member of
al-Qaida. They wouldn’t have brought me here otherwise. It could be
the opportunity of a lifetime.

Trevanian began to prepare for what
might be a chance to explore the inner workings of
al-Qaida.

Never look a gift horse in the
mouth.

Chapter 25

Andrew Chase’s Office 11:25
AM

KATIE ENTERED the reception area to be
confronted by the Dragon Lady.

Mrs. Joan Johnston looked up from her
computer screen and turned at her desk toward Katie. “Yes, Miss
Cannon. Can I help you?”

“
I need to speak with Mr.
Chase for a few minutes if he’s not busy,” replied Katie with a
certain amount of trepidation. Johnston had a reputation that
prompted people in the newsroom to often joke she leaves her
broomstick double-parked.

“
Mr. Chase is always very
busy, dear. May I inquire what this is about?”

“
It’s personal and very
important that I speak with him.” Not that it’s any of your
business, Cannon thought.

“
Just a moment, dear. I’ll
see if he is available.” Mrs. Johnston gently knocked on Andrew
Chase’s door and disappeared inside.

A couple of minutes later she
reappeared and invited Katie inside. She gave Katie a quizzical
look. Why is Mr. Chase so eager to see her?

“
Miss Cannon, please come
in,” said Chase as Katie entered the room. That will be all for
now, Mrs. Johnston. Please hold any calls.”

“
Yes, sir.” Johnston
exited the room still perplexed at Chase’s willingness to meet so
readily with one of his junior employees.

She had to admit though that Katie
Cannon was quite a looker -- eye candy for any man. Johnston closed
the door gently behind her.

“
Darling, what a wonderful
surprise. What brings you up to the executive suite? This is a rare
occasion.” Chase exuberantly grabbed Katie and planted a firm kiss
on her luscious red lips.