ERICA SITS IN HER NEW office, which has a seating area, a view of Central Park, and a large closet. It’s two days after her return from Los Angeles. She paid a quick visit to Mark Benton yesterday, and he reported that the cyberterrorists are highly skilled—he’s finding it close to impossible to track their whereabouts. He also reiterated the possibility that the terrorists have detected him. And the danger that holds for both of them. They agree that they shouldn’t be seen together in the office anymore. From now on they’ll arrange outside meetings that appear serendipitous.
Erica is preparing for the first development meeting on her show, which has a tentative timeline to go live in two months. There’s so much to do: big things like hiring a director, writers, and other staff; designing the set; coming up with a basic format and recurring segments; and a thousand details large and small, like the show’s music and lining up go-to experts on a host of issues. Erica is determined to avoid ideology—is there anything more annoying and less elucidating than two ideologues from opposite sides of the spectrum yelling over each other? She wants to keep the focus on the facts, and she wants to mix in some aspirational, inspirational, and even spiritual segments. And some pop culture to provide pure entertainment—and a ratings boost.
Greg strides into her office. “ISIL has just claimed credit for the Staten Island ferry crash.”
Erica stands up. “So it is terrorism. And ISIL no less. Do they have that kind of capability?”
“Apparently. They’ve been recruiting globally—young people with tech skills. They’re threatening another cyberstrike against the US. The president is going to speak in fifteen minutes. We need you on-air in ninety seconds.”
“I thought the ferry crash was Claire Wilcox’s story now.”
“Was is the operative word in that sentence.”
Erica races down the hall toward the studio.