The Evening News (54 page)

"Columbia forever
!”

Uncle Arthur affirmed, then continued with other
phoning.
Teddy Cooper, meanwhile, returned to the conference room to prepare a
task plan for the temporary workers who would arrive the next day. His
two assistant researchers had come in to help and together they pored
over Editor and Publisher International Year Book, local maps and phone
directories, selecting libraries and newspaper offices to be visited and
routes and schedules to be followed
.
At the same time Cooper drew up specifications to guide the young
recruits who would sift through three months of classified advertising
in some one hundred and sixty newspapers. What would they look for?
As well as the proviso of being within twenty-five miles of Larchmont
,
Cooper envisaged:

A relatively lonely location with little other activity around. The people being sought would want privacy, also the ability to come and go without arousing curiosity. Any house or premises in a busy or densely populated location should be discounted.
The premises would probably be a small abandoned factory or warehouse, or a large house. If a house, most likely old, run-down and therefore not much sought after. The house probably with outbuildings having space to garage several vehicles and contain a vehicle paint shop. An untenanted farm a strong possibility. Other types of accommodation matching the general concept to be looked for and imagination utilized.
Living accommodation for at least four or five people and possibly other housing space. However, the occupants would be capable of "roughing it
,”
so living quarters might not be evident in any advertised description. (In "other housing
”
Cooper mentally included imprisonment of the kidnap victims, but would not mention that specifically.)The location and premises might be undesirable to someone seeking normal business space or somewhere to live. Therefore special attention should be paid to any advertisement appearing for an extended time, then abruptly stopping.
That sequence might indica
te no takers, followed by a sud
den renting or sale for an unusual purpose
.
The cost of renting, leasing or even ownership should not
be a factor in the advertisi
ng search. The people being pur
sued almost certainly had ample funds.

That was sufficient, Cooper decided. While he wanted to convey a broad
general idea, he didn't wish to be too limiting or discourage initiative
.
He also intended to talk to Uncle Arthur's recruits when they arrived
early the next day and had asked Rita to arrange a suitable place
.
Shortly after noon, Cooper joined Uncle Arthur for lunch in the CBA News
cafeteria. Uncle Arthur chose a tuna sandwich and milk, Cooper a
rectangle of meat covered by glutinous gravy, a canary-yellow pie
and-with a look of resignation-a cup of warm water and a tea bag
.”
Unfortunately
,”
Uncle Arthur said apologetically,
“
'21' is closed
today. Perhaps some other time
.”

Because it was Sunday, with fewer people than usual in the building, they
had a table to themselves. Soon after settling down Cooper began, "I'd
like to ask you, sir . .
.”

Uncle Arthur stopped him with a gesture
.”
Your British respect is
refreshing. But you are now in the land of great leveling where commoners
address kings as 'Joe' or 'Hey you!' and a decreasing number of people
use 'Mr.' on an envelope. Here I'm known to all and sundry by my first
name
.”

"Well, Arthur
,”
Cooper said, a shade awkwardly, "I was only wondering how
you feel about TV news right now compared with when . .
.”

“
Compared with the olden days when I counted for something? Well, my
answer may surprise you. It's much better all around. The people who do
reporting and producing are an improvement over those in my time
,
including myself. But that's because coverage of the news is always
getting better. It always has
.”

Cooper raised his eyebrows
.”
Lo
tsa people feel the other way.,

"That's because, my dear Teddy, there are those who suffer from nostalgia
constipation. What those people need is a mental enema. One way to get
it is to visit the Museum of Broadcasting here in New York and watch-as
I did recently
some of the old news broadcasts, from the sixties for
example. Measured by the standards of today, most seem weak, even
amateurish, and I speak not just of technical quality but the depth of
journalistic probing
.”

"Some who don't like us say nowadays we probe too much
.”

"A criticism coming usually from those with something to hide
.”

As Cooper chuckled, Uncle Arthur continued expansively, "One measure of
our improving journalism is that fewer things which ought to be exposed
stay hidden. Abuses of the public trust are dragged into the open. Of
course, even the good people in public life pay penalties for that. Their
loss of privacy is one. But in the end society is better served
.”

"So you don't think the old-time reporters were better than those today
?
”

"Not only were they not better, but most didn't have the ruthlessness
,
the indifference to authority, the willingness to go for the jugular that
a first-rate newsperson requires today. Of course, the old reporters were
good by the standards of their times and a few were exceptional. But even
those, if around today, would be embarrassed by the sainthood now
conferred on them
.”

Cooper wrinkled his eyes in curiosity
.”
Sainthood
?
”

"Oh, yes. Didn't you know we dedicated news people regard our calling as
a religion? We use buzz words like news being a 'sacred trust.' We
pontificate about a 'golden age of television'-in the past, naturally-and
then we canonize our journalistic stars. Over at CBS they've created
Saint Ed Murrow-who was outstanding, no doubt about it. But Ed had his
worldly weaknesses, though legend prefers to overlook them. Eventually
CBS will create Saint Cronkite, though Walter, I'm afraid, will have to
die first. A living person can't sustain such eminence. And that's just
CBS, the senior news establishment.
The other, younger networks will create their saints in time
ABC inevitably will have Saint Arledge. After all, Roone, more than any other single person, shaped network news into its modem form
.”

Uncle Arthur rose
.”
Listening to your views, my dear Teddy, has been most
enlightening. But I must now return to that ubiquitous master of our
lives, the telephone
.”

By the end of the day Uncle Arthur made known that fifty
-
eight of his
"brightest and best
”
would be reporting for duty Monday morning.

Early on Sunday the Learjet 55LR entered airspace over San Martin
Province in the sparsely populated Selva, or jungle, region of Peru
.
Aboard the jet Jessica, Nicholas and Angus Sloane were still in caskets
and sedated
.
After a five-and-a-quarter-hour flight from Opa Locka, Florida, the Lear
was nearing its destination-Sion airstrip in the Andes foothills. The
local time was 4:15 A.M
.
On the dimly lighted flight deck both pilots craned forward, their eyes
searching the darkness ahead. The airplane's altitude was 3,500 feet
above sea level, though only 1,000 feet above the jungle floor below. Not
far ahead were high mountain ranges
.
Eighteen minutes earlier they had left a regular airway with its
dependable radio beacons and, to locate the airstrip, had switched to a
GNS-500 VLF navigation system, a device so precise that pilots sometimes
described it as "able to find a pimple on a fly's ass
.”

However, when
they were near or over the airstrip, there should be a visual signal from
the ground
.
They had reduced airspeed substantially, but were still cruising at more
than 300 knots
.
The copilot, Faulkner, was first to see the white light of the ground
beacon. It flashed three times, then went out, but not
before Faulkner, who was at the controls, had put the aircraft into a turn and settled on a compass heading to where the light had been
.
Captain Underhill, who had seen the light a moment after Faulkner, was
now busy with a radio, using a special frequency and a message in code
.
'Atenci6n, amigos de Huallaga. tste es el avi6n Ea Dorada.'Les traemos
el embarque Pizarro
.”

The prearranged call sign had been given to Underhill when the charter
was negotiated. It worked, and a reply shot back, "Somos sus amigos de
la tierra. Les estamos esperando. Ea Dorada, ' se Puede aterrizar. No hay
viento
.”
The permission to land was welcome, but the news of no ground wind to
help slow the heavy 55LR was not. However, as Underhill transmitted an
acknowledgment, the same beacon light came on again and continued
flashing intermittently. Moments later, beyond it, three flares sprang
into view along the hard-dirt strip. Underhill, who had been here twice
before, was sure the radio that had just been used was hand-held field
equipment and probably carried on the same truck as a portable
searchlight. The sophisticated gear did not surprise him. Drug
traffickers frequently landed here, and when it came to equipment the
drug cartels spent freely
.”
I'll take us in
,”
Underhill said, and the copilot surrendered the
controls
.
Staying a thousand feet above the ground, the pilot made a pass over the
area, sizing up what little could be seen of the airstrip and gauging his
approach. He knew they would need every foot of ground available, knew
too there were trees and heavy foliage on both sides of the landing
strip, so for all reasons, touchdown would have to be perfectly placed
.
Satisfied, he began an approach pattern, swinging onto a downwind leg
,
flying parallel with the strip and losing height
.
Beside him, Faulkner was performing a pre-landing check. At "gear down
,”
the rumble of descending wheels began. As they turned left onto a base
leg, the landing gear's three green lights winked on
.
On final approach their two bright landing lights sliced the darkness
ahead and Underhill let the speed fall back to
120
knots. He found himself wishing this landing could have been in daylight, but they had too little fuel to stooge around until sunrise at six o'clock. As the strip became nearer, Underhill realized they were too high. He reduced power. Now the threshold was barely fifty feet distant. Throttles right back, power off, trimmed at nearly full nose-up. This was it! They touched the rough, uneven ground with a bump. Hard rudder to stay straight, those trees a blur of shadows in the landing lights. Reverse thrust . . . brakes! Now they had passed the middle flare and were slowing. Was it slow enough? The end of the strip was disconcertingly close, but speed was almost off. They were going to make it and they did-with nothing to spare
.”
Nice
,”
Faulkner said. He didn't like Underhill much; his superior was
selfish, inconsiderate and usually aloof. Just the same he was a superb
pilot
.
As Underhill swung the Lear around and taxied back toward the approach
end of the airstrip, they caught glimpses of a truck and several moving
figures. Beyond the truck and off to one side was a small, roughly
constructed hut
, beside it a dozen or to metal dr
ums
.”
There's our fuel
,”
Underhill said, pointing
.”
Those guys will help you
pump it in, and do it fast because I want us the hell out of here at
first light
.”