“I was in a meeting with the governor and the assembly speaker in the governor’s office on the second floor; we were discussing the state budget. All of a sudden there was a thunderous boom, the lights flickered, and everything went dark. The governor’s state police detail came running in, telling us that there had been an explosion, and they physically grabbed the governor and whisked him out of the building through a back entrance.”
“Senator, can you confirm that the governor and assembly speaker are both safe and out of harm’s way?”
“Yes, Kate, I can say that with certainty, since I just got off the phone with the governor several minutes ago. He is running a command post out of the governor’s mansion, which, as you know, is several blocks from here.”
Privately, Kate couldn’t believe the man could be so stupid as to reveal the location of the governor publicly without knowing whether or not he had been the target of the explosion. But, as a journalist, she knew it just didn’t get any better than this.
“Senator, I understand that the epicenter of the blast was the senate chamber on the third floor, is that correct?”
“Yes, Kate, that is what I was told by the state police bomb experts.
Thank Heaven the senate wasn’t due to go into session for another forty-five minutes.”
“You said you spoke with the state police bomb experts, Senator, did they give you any indication what might have caused the explosion?”
God, could he really be foolish enough to tell me what I’m sure the
police would wait weeks to reveal?
“Kate, they believe it was a high-powered explosive planted somewhere in the senate gallery.”
“That would be the area reserved for spectators?” At the senator’s nod, she continued, “Senator, are all of your members accounted for?
Have you been informed of any casualties?”
“My people are still getting in touch with everyone, but so far, I think most of the senators have been accounted for. We’re still trying to reach a few.”
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Lynn Ames
“Senate Majority Leader Hicksdale, thank you for your time.”
“My pleasure, Kate.”
“To recap, then,” the anchorwoman said as she faced the camera fully and Gene zoomed in for a close-up, “an explosion rocked the state capitol building here in Albany at 2:48 p.m. The blast apparently was centered in the senate chamber, and detonated some forty-five minutes before the senate was due to go into session. Senate Majority Leader Clyde Hicksdale, who was in a meeting one floor below the senate chamber with the governor and the leader of the state assembly, indicates to WCAP-TV that the governor has been escorted safely from the building and is monitoring the situation from his private office in the governor’s mansion several blocks from the capitol. Although we have not had any confirmation from the state police as of yet, Senator Hicksdale informs us that he has been told by the state police’s elite bomb squad that the explosion was the result of a high-powered incendiary device. We will try to get independent corroboration of that fact for you as soon as possible.”
Kate knew most of her colleagues would have simply reported the news that the explosion was caused by a bomb as fact, but she wasn’t any reporter, and she wasn’t just going to take Hicksdale’s word for the cause. In her mind that would have been journalistically irresponsible. It was one thing to attribute the supposition to her interviewee, and quite another for her to report it as absolute gospel truth.
Kate continued her report. “At this moment, it is unclear how many, if any, casualties there have been. As you can see over my shoulder,” this she said as Gene panned the camera back and scanned the panicked crowd behind her, “there is much confusion here on State Street. In recent weeks there have been heated debates raging between the governor and the two houses of the legislature regarding—”
BOOM.
A second explosion rocked the building. Kate felt a white-hot surge of air from behind as she was lifted off her feet and thrown to the ground.
She looked up to see Gene getting back to his feet. Ever the professional, he still had his camera running and he gave her the hand signal letting her know his equipment was still intact and that he had gotten the footage of the second blast, as well as her going down, and was getting the images behind her of the new horror.
Kate rose to her feet and turned to face the spot where the entrance to the capitol used to be. She watched in mute terror as members of the legislature, staff, tourists, and children ran screaming into the street.
There was blood and glass everywhere. Through the now-open space where the covered and columned entryway had been, she could see that the first-floor ceiling was starting to give way. She looked up briefly at 16
The Price of Fame
the window that marked the governor’s office; catching Gene’s attention, she began talking again.
“As you can see, a second explosion has just rocked the capitol.”
Gene gave her a thumbs-up at her slightly raised eyebrow, which he correctly interpreted to be her questioning whether or not her microphone was still working. He focused in on Kate. “That window there,” she pointed to the corner spot on the second floor, “is the governor’s office.”
“Kate,” Phil said in her ear from the newsroom even as she continued talking to the viewers, “you’re the only game in town; the scene got cordoned off before any of the other stations could get their people down there. CNN and all three major networks are carrying you live. No pressure here, girl, this is great stuff.”
She could hear the excitement in his voice.
Gene followed her hand and zoomed in on the dramatic picture of the tattered curtains in the governor’s office blowing out the hole where the window once had been. “As we have been informed by the senate majority leader, who had been meeting with the governor at the time in that room right there,” she gestured again to the hole at the corner of the building, “the governor had already been taken to safety just after the first explosion.”
Gene marveled at how calm and professional the anchorwoman appeared. It was as if she hadn’t just survived being thrown into the air by a fireball like a rag doll. He allowed himself a few seconds to moon over the statuesque beauty as he had done from the very first moment that she had come to work at WCAP five years earlier, straight out of college. But then, there wasn’t a guy at the station, or heck, some of the women, too, for that matter, who wasn’t in love with her. It didn’t matter that she was unerringly friendly to all of them, but dated none of them, no matter how persistent they were.
Kate turned sideways to take in the scene behind her. What she saw touched her deeply as a human being; there were too many people still in harm’s way. She knew her first responsibility as a journalist was to get the story, but as a person, and one who had extensive first aid training, she felt she had a more important obligation to help. Maybe, just maybe, she could accomplish both objectives.
She continued talking as she began running toward the building. “As you can see, there are a number of people hurt or trapped awaiting assistance. Rescue personnel are swarming over the scene, but the number of emergency workers is simply inadequate to deal with the number of casualties.”
In her ear, Phil was screaming at her. “Katherine Ann Kyle, don’t you dare put yourself in danger.” He could tell that she heard him but was ignoring him. “Kate, please,” he pleaded. “Don’t.” The last was 17
Lynn Ames
whispered quietly, as he knew he’d already lost the battle. “Stay safe,” he murmured.
Gene moved to follow Kate, all the while training the camera on her as she dodged debris on her way to aid the injured. She motioned below camera level that he could get the general pictures of the scene and still pick up her audio without putting himself in jeopardy. He appreciated her gesture of concern, but was determined to stay with her as long as he could without losing transmission.
As she moved into the first-floor lobby, she kept up a running monologue for the sake of the viewers. “The ceiling has caved in here, as you can see, trapping a number of people.” Kate spied a young blonde girl whose leg was crushed under what had once been a pillar to the side portico. She went immediately to the girl’s side. “It’s okay, sweetheart, we’re going to get you out of here.” The girl’s watery green eyes and tear-stained face bespoke her terror and pain, and, for a moment, the sight sent Kate’s mind spinning back five and a half years to the winter of 1982.
It had been a glorious mid-winter day at the college snow bowl. Kate,
a senior, stood atop one of the most challenging runs on the mountain.
She had a half-hour before her next shift was set to begin and she was
determined to enjoy the superb conditions. “Well,” she thought to
herself, “if you’ve got to make money somehow, this sure isn’t a bad way
to go.” As a member of the ski patrol, she could ski for free whenever she
was off duty; when she was on, she got paid. In her mind, it just didn’t
get any better than that.
The slopes were crowded on that Saturday, no doubt thanks to the
fresh dumping of two feet of snow they had received the night before.
Kate pushed off, gathering speed and picking the line she wished to
follow through the numerous moguls just ahead of her. She loved the
freedom of skiing, the rush of adrenaline she got while attacking the hill
and the thrill of finding a great rhythm through a minefield of bumps.
She stopped to rest momentarily at the bottom of the first tier of
moguls, surveying the next part of the slope. Just as she was about to
move on, a blur of movement caught her eye over on the far left side of
the trail about 100 yards ahead. A big mountain of a man was barreling
down the slope, completely out of control. Kate quickly scanned the area,
already calculating the distance between him and anyone below him.
“Shit!”
The ski patroller was already in motion, knowing that she was going
to be too late. She watched helplessly as the out-of-control goon slammed
full speed into a much smaller female skier who had the misfortune to be
in his path. The pair disappeared in a cloud of snow, arms and legs
18
The Price of Fame
flying through the air in a tumble of bodies. Kate arrived
before the
plume of snow had settled, releasing her skis and planting them to mark
the accident even before she had come to a complete stop. The petite
blonde was lying motionless, her right arm and left leg at odd, unnatural
angles; the behemoth was shaking his head. “Wow, man, that was really
something,” he remarked.
Kate didn’t spare him so much as a look. “Are you hurt?” she asked
him coldly, kneeling next to the woman.
“Naw, I’m tougher’n that.”
“Grand, then just sit there until I can deal with you; if you so much
as move a muscle, so help me I’ll ram my ski so far up your ass it will
come out your mouth. Got me?”
The big man’s eyes opened as wide as saucers, and he just nodded
mutely.
Kate was busy assessing the woman’s injuries and checking to see if
she was breathing okay. Pulling out her two-way radio, she called to the
base patrol hut and radioed her location, calmly asking for a stretcher
and leg immobilizer and instructing them to have an ambulance standing
by. “And Ken,” she added, “send up Robbie to deal with the jerkball who
caused this thing; I don’t ever want to see him on this mountain again.”
“Roger that, Kate. It’s going to take us a few to get to you; you’re in
a tough spot. Hard to reach.”
“Do the best you can, Ken, she needs help now. Out.”
Kate put the radio back in her fanny pack and looked down at the
injured woman, who was just now coming around. Gently, she removed
her charge’s goggles, which had cracked but miraculously remained on
her face. She had a shocked moment of recognition upon seeing eyes the
color of the Caribbean Sea trying desperately to focus. She had caught a
glimpse of that unforgettable face on campus once before, but although
she had looked, she had never seen the beautiful young co-ed again.
“Did you get the license plate number of the truck that hit me?”
Kate laughed in spite of the seriousness of the situation. “Hey,” she
said softly, lowering herself so that the blonde could see her without
moving her head. “You’re gonna be all right, but I need you to stay very
still for now, okay?”
“Yes; I hurt so much.”
“I know. I’ve got a team on the way so that we can move you safely.
Hang in there.”
“My shoulder.”
“Mmm. It’s dislocated from the looks of it; I can try to put it back in
if you want.” Gently she added, “It will be less painful if I do.”
“Ok-k-kay, but this is going to mess up my lacrosse season, isn’t it?”
“’Fraid so.”
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Lynn Ames
Kate dug her foot into the snow and tried to get leverage. God, she
didn’t want to cause this woman any more pain, but she knew that the
discomfort would be temporary, and that the end result would leave her
feeling better. She braced herself and grasped the dangling shoulder,
being careful to jar her as little as possible. Then, using direct pressure
at the correct angle, she gave a quick push and felt the bone slide back
into place. The woman gave a short yell.
“Okay?”
The blonde looked up at Kate and gave her a weak smile, her lips
starting to quiver and her body starting to shake from the shock of the
accident and the cold. Without thought, the ski patroller unzipped her
own jacket, sliding carefully behind the injured skier, zipping the jacket
with both her and the woman inside, and effectively using her own body
heat to try to warm her. Feeling the young co-ed shivering
uncontrollably against her, she wrapped her arms carefully around the
slim waist, pulling her closer still.