Parallelogram : Day Two : Chapter 70

Five Days, Eight Hours, Forty Minutes

"The entire world must be joking with us," Ashley Reed muttered.

From her desk at the CVN News Washington Bureau Headquarters, she toggled several switches, jumping back and forth between the images flowing in from the countries bordering the Persian Gulf. First, she replayed the image of the rafting protestors outside the drilling rig – she studied the last few seconds of film over and over and over, trying to make sense of how a single wave could deliver them so far away from the platform – and, next, she kept rewinding the latest addition – delivered by their correspondent Nadia Arment as she stood on the shore outside of Al-Jubayl where the water level had receded over ten feet in the course of a few short minutes. It simply didn't make any sense ecologically. What could have happened? Where did the water go? Where could tens of thousands of gallons of gulf water have gone? How could it simply have vanished? Granted, an underwater nuclear test would've vaporized more than enough of the liquid, but wouldn't there have been a resulting cloud detected by cameras? Wouldn't there have been some evidence?

"Yes, you bet," she mumbled to herself. "The entire world is laughing at us."

She approved the footage for broadcast, emailing a quick message to her assistant to locate somewhere in the world an expert on nuclear testing who might be able to give greater credibility to any one of a number of theories floating around newsrooms and cyberspace everywhere. CVN was on the chopping block, so far as she was concerned, failing behind in the ratings race to Fox and – she couldn't believe it – CNN and – she believed it less – MSNBC. How could they have slipped so far? Clearly, their coverage of national and global events was timely, but, as the other networks had continued to build on their name brand and image, CVN had stuck with traditional reporting – they had bypassed the 'talking heads' approach to journalism in favor of reporting hard fats – and the end result was that viewers, in the last few months, were tuning the cable news station out. Sadly, most of the CVN anchors were news veterans from smaller markets – they didn't have a single household name on their payroll – and network sponsorship suffered. Their war coverage had won awards – multiple journalistic distinctions – but their ratings continued to plummet. She knew that, if something didn't stem the tide quickly, she'd be out of a job herself.

And now ... this.

Granted, CVN was the first out of the gate with the breaking news from the Gulf, and, terrific, the other news outlets had agreed to her quick, down, dirty negotiations to jump aboard their broadcast as an exclusive 'shared news event.' However, as the other networks were now turning to their staffers and their experts to dissect the events that may've led up to the news, CVN was left replaying footage. The experts worked elsewhere. While Fox News was running a series of graphics detailing the long-term effects of nuclear testing on waterlife, while CNN was airing a controversial interview with the former head of United Nations Nuclear Catastrophe Response Unit, CVN was simply replaying footage while the anchor asked simpleton questions to former military strategists. It wasn't exactly lightweight, but it wasn't going to win back viewers ... or advertisers.

But how do you define an event that, by all practical means, defies definition? How do you explain something that escapes any reasonable explanation? Ashley knew she was asking the same questions others in her position had been asking for years – possibly since professional journalism began – and CVN was paying her the big bucks to get to the bottom as quickly as human mind would allow her. Forgetting her two Emmys for excellence in news, forgetting the written accolades from industry heavyweights framed and hanging on her wall, she couldn't reach any other conclusion: exploit it.

"While you have it," she said, "exploit it."

CVN had the jump on the other networks for the first time in many years, in countless newsworthy events, and here she sat, waiting for inspiration to whack her on the side of her head when she should be going with her gut, putting out over the airwaves anything that would keep her viewers glued to those glowing television consoles in their homes.

"Exploit it."

If this was to be her swan song – if this was to be CVN's swan song – then she'd have to do everything in her power to see that it was a song worth singing, a song worth hearing over and over and over again. After all, it was the legacy that was remembered throughout the annals of history, not the ulcerations that led up to one. It was the destination, not the journey. It was the culmination, not the dream. Dreams never accomplished anything, she knew: it was hard, hard work that made a difference in the world, and this would have to be her crowning moment.

"Exploit it."

She looked at the protestors in the raft. She saw the utter confusion, the amused shock on their faces, and she knew that there was only one thing that might change that look.

Quickly, she picked up the telephone. She tapped a button and said, "Here's what I want. Type this directly into the teleprompter, and don't give Mayweather any time to object." She took a quick breath. "I want you to type that CVN has just learned from an unconfirmed source at the White House that officials at the Pentagon are investigating claims that the U.S. military may – I repeat, MAY – have some involvement in the events we're witnessing."

She closed her eyes. "Get it on the air now. Once it circulates through all of the news agencies, I guarantee that sound byte will get us ten million more viewers within the hour."

END of Chapter 70