News Flash (2 page)

“Honestly, you're better than half these saps that actually get paid to work here. Why don't you go man the desk for a few minutes, and give Jamie a break.” Marika patted my shoulder, and I felt a flare of pride.

Nearly skipping over to the little news feed that posted all the AP news for the day, I grinned at Jamie. “You can go on break now. Marika sent me over for a bit.”

“Thank goodness, nothing is happening today. My eyeballs are about to bleed boredom.” Jamie grabbed her purse and fled toward the break room.

The computer screen scrolled with benign stories, all marked yellow. I'd never seen an orange or red story come through, but then again I had only been allowed to man the desk one other time. My eyes glazed over, and I totally got what Jamie meant, and then a blip of orange came across the screen. I sat up a little straighter, scanning the brief for the pertinent info. When I realized that it was an alert for our city, my heart began to pound in my ears. I had no idea what the protocol was for this sort of thing. I scanned the newsroom.

My eyes landed on Rory, a guy who ran all the social media for the station. He was the closest, so I waved a hand at him. “Rory! Get over here!”

Rory looked startled, perhaps because he had no idea who I was, and I certainly wasn't Jamie, but he dutifully came over to me. “What's up?”

“Look at that.” I jabbed the screen with my finger, and then looked up at him. With a growing sense of urgency and satisfaction, I watched Rory's eyes grow wider. When I was pretty sure he'd finished reading, I said, “So what do I do now?”

“I'll go get Esther. If it goes red, come to her office, got it?”

I nodded in his general direction as I continued to stare at the screen. The orange bar seemed to throb with my own excitement. Nothing like this had ever happened to me before. I mean, I was actually in the right place at the right time. Not that I'd get to do any actual journalism reporting, but just being the one to find the story was a big deal. Esther, the executive producer, would be pleased, to say the least. She might even learn my name, and stop calling me Amanda.

My eyes had glazed over again, but a sudden, harsh slash of red on the screen brought me slamming back to reality. I read the text on the scroll, once, twice, and then jumped up and sprinted toward Esther's office. My heart thudded. I could actually feel the importance of what I was about to do with every step I took.

When I burst in the door, Rory was talking in a high, fast voice to Esther and one of the other producers. They were nodding, and moving toward the computer, but they all stopped and looked at me when I entered.

“It just went red,” I said, my voice flush with adrenaline. “Shots have been fired.”

“Rory, go get Bonnie, John, and Marika. We need to get a strategy session going. Amanda, go back to the news desk, and watch for any new information. Rory will be down to give you a new assignment in a while.” Esther was already at her computer typing in information. I could actually see the wheels in her head turning, and I stood rooted in place as I watched her in awe. She looked up, saw me, and shot an annoyed glance in my direction. “Well? What are you waiting for? Go. This is a huge story.”

I nearly tripped over my own feet as I propelled myself back to the desk, where I collapsed into the chair. The bright red bar seemed bigger than before, but the information was basically unchanged. There had been a bank robbery at one of the big banks downtown—right across the river from us actually—and now there were hostages inside with shots fired. This kind of thing didn't actually happen, even in a small city like ours. A hostage situation was for the movies.

While I kept my eyes trained to the computer screen for any changes, the newsroom became a frenetic whirl of activity. I knew from other breaking news days that John and Bonnie were in the tiny Green Room being prepped to go on air. I vaguely wondered where Marika was during the entire hubbub. Jake always made fun of me for using what he called “Grandma Words.” Hubbub was on his list. The thoughts broke through the excitement of the breaking news, and brought a smile to my face.

“This is wild.” Rory reappeared by my side. I realized that I had never really looked at him before. Not the way I would normally look at a guy anyway. With his dark framed hipster glasses, smattering of freckles spattered across his nose, and the shock of ginger hair, he was cute. And young. Now that he was standing next to me, I could tell that he wasn't that much older than me. Knowing that he wasn't an intern, I bet that he was just barely out of college himself. That made him what? Twenty-one? Twenty-two? Twenty-three tops? And I turned eighteen in just a few weeks.

I nearly choked on my own saliva, and started coughing and sputtering. Not the most appropriate thoughts to be having in the midst of the biggest event to happen in my entire life. To make matters worse Rory patted my back with a few resounding thumps and said, “Are you okay?”

Feeling the heat of a blush creeping up my neck, I said, “Yeah. This is just so crazy, I mean—“

The sound of helicopter blades cut me off, and Rory's jaw dropped. In a second he was off toward the large bank of windows that faced the river. I had been so interested in what was coming across the wire, that I hadn't even thought to just look out at the action happening. Part of me was torn. Leaving the desk wasn't really a good idea since that had been my assignment but I really wanted to see what was going on. So I decided to go for just a minute.

“Is that Channel Fifteen's News ‘Copter?” Esther bellowed from her office. “And if it is why isn't ours in the air yet? I sent the message out five minutes ago!”

I blinked at this news. Had it really only been five minutes? Everything seemed to be happening in fast forward, but in reality we were in slow motion. Several more staff members pressed against the window as we all tried to get a glimpse of the logo on the side of the helicopter.

“It's ours!” My voice rang out over the din. Another surge of adrenaline made me giddy. Beyond the swiftly flowing North River I could see the squat form of the bank surrounded by the flashing red and blue lights of what seemed like one hundred police cars.

“Excellent. Now everyone, we go on air in thirty seconds, get back to your places.” Marika appeared behind us. She gave me a pointed look that I took to mean that if it wasn't breaking news I'd be in trouble for not listening. She tended to treat me like a preschooler at times. Not wanting any actual problems with my internship, I scooted back to the news ticker, which was still a harsh slash of red on the screen.

The screens that hung on two sides of the room flickered on, the camera showing a somber looking Bonnie and an excited looking John. He was an adrenaline junky. Breaking news was always his favorite to film because he didn't know what was coming next. He'd told my journalism class that when he came as a guest lecturer first semester. That was part of the reason I'd applied for the internship. John made TV news sound like the most exciting career possible, even in a dinky little city like ours.

“This is what we know at this hour,” John began. “Reports have been received that the First National Bank on Main has been the scene of a robbery. There are reports of hostages taken and shots fired. Police have set up blockades, and all traffic is being routed away from the scene. The Main Street Bridge is closed, as well as the Polk Street and Ridge Street bridges. We'll be bringing you live updates as soon as we have them. Bonnie?”

As Bonnie launched in to the specifics of the reports coming in, I noticed that she seemed especially sad and tense. Usually she managed to keep things light, her expression relaxed, even hopeful during the bad stories. It made me wonder what she knew that she wasn't sharing yet. She shuffled her papers, and cut to the helicopter report. I let my gaze stray back to the screen where other stories of less urgency were coming in. I made a note of a few that might be of some interest to people in the Stateline area. I smiled to myself as I felt pretty good for finally getting to participate in a real news story on a real news day.

“I'll take over.” Jamie reappeared behind me.

Her break apparently over, she wanted back on the story of the year. Before I could stop myself, I felt my mouth twist into a frown that bordered on a sneer. Still, there was nothing I could do. I was a lowly intern, and this was her actual job. Without saying anything, I got up. Jamie flashed me what could only be described as a triumphant smile, and sat back down at the news ticker. She read my note, and right as I watched she crumpled it up, and stuck it into the recycling bin under the desk.

I looked around for Marika, but not finding her I made my way back over to the window. The view was actually disappointing because the only side of the bank visible was the back side where there weren't even any windows. Rumor was that was where the vault was. I knew that a normal bank's vault wouldn't be the stuff of rumor and legend, but First National Bank had been built over one hundred years ago. The city founders had constructed the bank to house stores of gold, which supposedly rivaled Fort Knox back in the day. Very few people had seen the vault, which only the bank director and his assistant knew the code for. That was enough to start stories for sure, but the icing on top of the cake was the fact that the vault was reported to be two stories tall.

“What do you think's happening in there?” Chloe came up beside me, and leaned her shoulder into mine. She was subdued for the first time since I'd met her, and I realized she wanted comfort.

A cold shiver rolled over me. Real people were stuck in that bank with real psychos. Now I knew why Bonnie looked the way she did. When she had to report news that had such immediate implications for the community we were part of she obviously couldn't help but be moved by the situation. All the horrible outcomes of this standoff began to play through my mind. I felt like I was missing some piece of information; like a memory hovering just out of reach.

Just as I was about to feel even more melancholy, my phone began to buzz in my pocket. I pulled it out even though we weren't supposed to make personal calls during work. Who was going to notice right now anyway? It was my mom. I had to answer.

“Allison! Are you alright? I saw the First National Bank on the news. Have you been taken hostage?” My mom's voice shrilled in my ear, and despite the circumstances, I giggled. Mom heard that because her next tone put my mirth to rest. “Allison Noelle Jones, are you making light of this?”

“No, Mom, I promise I'm not. And I'm fine. I'm still at the station.” I held my breath, hoping not to get into any more trouble. Talking back was my mom's number one pet peeve, and it always resulted in some form of punishment. Not usually grounding worthy, but at the minimum a night with no technology. I mean, technically I hadn't talked back, but I suspected I was on thin ice. That was just one thing I looked forward to about getting out of the house for college. I had over-protective mom number one. No other mother on the planet could worry like my mom could. My three sisters and I agreed she could get in record books with the sheer number of things she worried about at any given moment.

“Okay, well, be careful. Don't come home until the police give the all clear.” Mom tsked in a way that made me wonder if she'd been crying. A wave of guilt washed over me for my less than pleasant thoughts about her.

Still… “Hey, Mom, maybe I should just get dinner here then?”

“Yes, I think that's the best idea. I'm sure there are some places not affected by this mess that would deliver. Do you have enough money? I'll call Jake and let him know not to pick you up until you call.” My mom rambled on a bit longer, but I tuned her out as I watched several ambulances rush across the bridge to take their places beside the police cars.

When I finally hung up, Chloe gave me a sideways look. “Aren't you eighteen?”

“Nearly, why?”

“Your mom treats you like a tween, no offense.”

I laughed. “None taken. She totally does. I'm just shocked she agreed to let me order dinner. The artificial ingredients in most food is just one of her many worries. If she isn't cooking for us, she makes it seem like we're eating nuclear waste.”

Chloe joined my laughter, but we both quieted as a fourth helicopter came into view. “I think that one's from Chicago.”

We both squinted into the gray light of the early evening sky. Sure enough the logo displayed on the side indicated it was from one of the major stations in the Windy City. Chloe and exchanged glances. Neither of us had to say that once the Chicago news stations came in, it was considered major news. The kind that went national. Another wave of adrenaline coursed through my veins.

“Esther's having a fit.” Rory's voice close to my left shoulder made me jump. Chloe and I turned to him. “She's been watching all the other coverage as it comes in, and Channel Eight out of Chicago has an exclusive interview with the bank manager's assistant. He got out before they started taking hostages.”

I gasped, and my eyes got wide as I tried to suppress the sudden rush of information happening in my brain. “Do you know who the hostages are? I mean, has any of that information been released yet?”

Rory shook his head. “The only thing we know for sure right now is that the bank manager is still in there. He's an obvious choice for a hostage since he knows the code for the vault. Hey, are you okay?”

“N—no. I have to go make a phone call.” With that I turned and sprinted out of the newsroom to the closest stairwell. It was the closest place I could come to privacy. With shaking fingers I pulled up Jake's number. I waited, breathless, as it rang once, twice, three times. Finally he picked up. “Jake? Are you okay?”

“Sure, why wouldn't I be?” I could hear something thudding rhythmically in the background. Just listening to the sound, I could picture Jake's younger brother, Andrew, tossing a tennis ball against the wall. “Have you watched the news at all this afternoon?”