Heaven's Fire (6 page)

Simon nodded and returned to the boat. Kutchera was onboard, but Burns was still on the barge, his camera leveled
at
the triangle that
Pat, Tudy and Angela now formed
as they gazed out over the lake.

The kid just couldn't leave them alone. Then again, in his own way, Simon would be just as bad. Maybe worse.

*****

George:
"
Speaking of the three sixteen-inch shells, the last one of which, the blue one, evidently exploded too low, plunging Pasquale Firenze, president of Firenze Fireworks, and his son-in-law, Ray Guida, into the waters of Lake Michigan, we have tape of those shells being made
. . ."

Jake rolled the tape, wondering if George
Eagleton
could have made that sentence any longer. Still, this was one time it really paid off to have an anchor who loved to hear himself talk.

Martha
Malone
was back on the set now, too, apparently having given up on both tracking down the ATF guy and convincing the Coast Guard to take her out to the barge. It was probably the first time she'd been turned down by a sailor.

Yikes, Jake thought, where did
that
come from? She
must be getting punchy. N
early midnight and they had been on the air live for three hours, the last two of those hours unscripted, a producer's nightmare. At least if that producer was Jake.

She had taken a swig of cold coffee and was swishing it around in her mouth like mouthwash, when the door of the van burst open.

"
Jake, I’ve got the ATF guy with me.
"
It was Luis, back from the barge.

Jake swallowed the coffee, and swiveled to see a tall man, late thirties or so, duck his head into the van behind Luis.

Hot dog. Jake would have someone hustle him right over to the set for an interview and get Martha off her back. She stuck her hand out.
"
I’m Wendy Jacobus, producer of the show tonight. How do you spell your name?
"

Aamot spelled it for her.

"
Two a’s, huh? And you pronounce that, how?
"

"
Ahh-mott, accent on the first syllable.
"
He watched her write it down phonetically before adding,
"
I’m not doing an interview.
"

She blinked.
"
You’re not?
"

Aamot smiled at her.
"
No.
"

Jake tried to think of something persuasive to say, but she was out of practice with finessing reluctant guests. Or guests of any kind, now that she was no longer on-air herself.
"
Well, don’t you want to get the facts out? Reassure the public?
"
Lame, but it was the best Jake could do at midnight.

"
No.
"
The smile again.

The immovable, if
pleasant, object. Unfortunately, Jake wasn't feeling much like an irresistible force. Time to call for reinforcements.

"
Hang on, we’re coming out of a roll-in.
"
Jake spoke into her mouthpiece.
"
Martha, can you do a recap when we come back to you? We’ll show the tape of the explosion again and then break.
"
She lowered her voice.
"
Then can you come to the production van? I’ve got something for you.
"

She felt Aamot, who had been checking out the bank of monitors, glance over at her. As Martha started her recap, Jake turned back to him.
"
So if you’re not going to do an interview, why are you here?
"

He nodded toward Luis.
"
I need to see his tape before you air it. I also need a copy of everything else your people shot tonight, including what Jimmy Olson
here got
at the moment of the explosion.
"

"
He was a reporter,
"
she said automatically.

That stopped Aamot.
"
What?
"

Jake could feel herself flush.
"
Jimmy Olson. He was a cub reporter, not a photographer.
"

The ATF man stared at her for a second, then shook his head.
"
You’re living in the past. In the old comic books, he was primarily a reporter--in the modern stuff, he’s a photographer.
"

"Oh," was the best reply Jake could muster.

Aamot began pointing.
"
I also need a list of your personnel and a rundown of your camera positions. Oh, and I understand you shot some footage of the sixteen-inch shells being built. I’ll need that, too.
"

At least she had slowed him down a bit with her incisive Jimmy Olson observation. Swift. The radio squawked, and Jake flipped the switch.

It was Neal.
"
Jake, I’m going to hang out at the command center, see if I can pick up anything.
"

"
Good, Neal, keep an eye on the Coast Guard guys, especially. They’re the ones who are going to know first if the boats find anyone.
"

She flipped the switch back and, thinking of both impudent cub reporters-cum-photographers and radios, turned to Luis. She had finally digested something he’d said to her from the barge.
"
Tape? Why were you running tape out there?
"

Luis pulled the videocassette out of his camera and handed it to her.
"
I figured you never know. Good thing, huh?
"

Never know what? When the microwave truck you're hard-wired to is going to be swept off a barge and land on the bottom of Lake Michigan?

But Jake didn't have time to think about it right then.
"
We’ll discuss this later. Hang on.
"
She turned to her tech director.
"
Archie, roll the explosion under Martha’s voice-over.
"

As the long view of the blast replayed on the screen, she swiveled back to Aamot.
"
Listen, I’m not going to be able to give you all this tonight. How about tomorrow?
"

Aamot tried to straighten up, but the low doorway of the truck defeated him.
"
What time?
"

With what had happened, TV8 would likely keep the production truck down here. Even so, Jake would have to go to the station to duplicate the tapes.
"
I’ll dupe them at the station tomorrow morning. You can either pick them
up
there or here. I’ll probably be back
down
by
twelve
.
"

Aamot pulled a card out of his jacket pocket and handed it to her.
"
I’ll meet you here at noon
sharp
. Call me if you have a problem.
"
He hooked a finger at Luis, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor of the truck digging through his bag.
"
I need to see the tape he just gave you, though.
"

Luis looked up guiltily and closed the case.
Jake's eyes narrowed, wondering what the kid was up to.

"Now," Aamot insisted.

My, thought Jake, aren't
we
a little pushy? Much as she wanted Aamot out of her already cramped van, Jake felt a responsibility to keep him there for Martha.
"
Okay, but it'll take me a minute or two.
"

She took her time setting the tape up on one of the VTR monitors. Martha was still on the air, leading into the break. Once in, she could make it here in no time.
"
I’d like to wait so our on-air talent can see it, too,
"
Jake ventured.

Aamot shook his head.
"
I need to see it as soon as it's ready.
"

He needs this, he needs that. Jake sighed and pushed the play button. She'd done her best.
"
Fine, here we go.
"

Aamot crowded in behind Jake’s seat to watch. As Luis had said, the tape began immediately after the explosion. The barge was still rocking as the camera
was lifted
and swung
wide
to focus on Pasquale’s barge. The combined effect made Jake feel queasy.

The center of the barge was shakily lit by
what
burned there. The fire was flat, like it had spilled on the floor of the barge. Somewhere close by, someone was screaming. Then, as if on cue, sirens joined in and just seconds after that, air horns from the surrounding boats.

The boaters probably meant it as a signal for help, but the noise reminded Jake of the boat horns that were sounded after every fireworks display she’d ever seen on Lake Michigan. They were the nautical equivalent of applause for a good show. The thought made her shiver.

On the tape the red strobes of the Coast Guard boats were converging on the barge from all sides. One of the boats was the county fireboat, which Jake had seen spraying water only to entertain the crowds at summertime festivals.

Now as the little red fireboat's cannons shot fountains of water at the fire, the flames
slid
off the barge and into the water before finally
extinguishing
. Along with the fire
,
Luis’s
ambient light died
and the screen went black. The screaming had stopped, but the air horns and sirens went on and on and on and on...

"It looks almost..." Jake couldn't come up with the word. "Fake or..."

"Surreal," Aamot supplied. "That was my reaction anyway." Then a change of tone, "What’s next?
"

Luis answered, disappointment coloring his voice.
"
I thought I got more than that. The interview with Pat Firenze is next. At least what I was able to do of it.
"
He gave Aamot a resentful glance.

Jake looked at Aamot and decided not to ask
what that was all about
. Instead, she checked the program monitor--they were into the break. She twisted around to see Aamot.
"
You want to see that interview, don’t you?
"

Aamot looked up at the monitor, too.
"
Thanks, but I was in the studio audience for that.
Tomorrow
I’ll need a copy of what you just showed me along with the other footage.
"

"
If you can wait,
I can dupe this one
right now,
"
Jake offered. Duplicating it in real time should give Martha enough time--

"
No.
"

No. Of course. No. Aamot’s cell phone rang then, just as Neal’s voice came over the radio.
"
Jake, I think we’ve got some action here. It looks like they found something. They’re all heading over to the old ferry dock.
"

"
Good, Neal, you get over there. I’ll ask if our camera on the breakwater can see anything.
"

She turned to speak to Aamot, but he was already gone.

*****

Simon was waiting with Longenecker when Kutchera’s boat docked. The pier hadn’t been used since ferry service across the lake to Michigan had been abandoned. Tonight the pier provided a private place to dock where the media--including Wendy Jacobus’s
"
Neal
"
--could be kept back.

Kutchera helped Angela, Pat and Tudy off the boat and then came over to where Longenecker and Simon stood. The body bag was next off.

"
Where was he?
"
Longenecker asked Kutchera.

"
Snagged underneath the barge itself.
"
He glanced over at Simon.
"
You were right, he was closer than we thought.
"

"
How the hell did you miss him?
"
Longenecker demanded.

Kutchera shrugged.
"
We looked there, but the divers were having trouble seeing.
"

Lake Michigan, even on a good day, was cold, dark and treacherous. This wasn’t a good day.

Simon crossed the dock to the gurney.
"
Let me see him.
"

He looked away as they unzipped the body bag and then turned back. What he saw surprised him. Despite the horror of the fireball that had engulfed him, despite the burns that already had reddened and blistered the flesh on the rest of his body, Pasquale's face was untouched. In fact, he looked almost peaceful.