ERICA LOOKS INTO THE CAMERA and begins: “We have breaking news: The Middle East caliphate ISIL has claimed credit for the crash of the Staten Island ferry on the morning of April 13. The crash claimed five lives and injured eighty people, two dozen of them critically. Ten remain hospitalized. ISIL claims that it hacked into the ferry’s computer system and froze its steering mechanism. If true, this is the first major act of cyberterrorism committed on American soil. President Garner will be speaking to the nation ten minutes from now.”
GNN runs the footage of the crash and Erica interviews, by remote feed, one of the nation’s leading experts on cyberterrorism. Then they go to the White House feed. President Garner is grave, strong, and succinct: this evil act will be punished. He tells the nation that the Department of Homeland Security’s cyberterrorism division is working to determine the location of ISIL’s technology infrastructure. When it does, appropriate action will be taken.
After the president’s remarks, Erica is on-air for the next six hours, anchoring GNN’s coverage of the unfolding story. This is the first time she’s been on for this long, anchoring a story this big. Her adrenaline reaches a high level and plateaus—she’s on her game, cruising along. Greg is right with her the whole time. Once the initial story is reported and the footage of the crash shown, it becomes a challenge to fill the airtime. Greg rounds up senators from both parties in Washington, the mayor of New York City, GNN’s chief Middle East correspondent in Damascus, a survivor of the crash, a cybersecurity expert who explains how cyberterrorism works, and a general with expertise in the field.
Erica knows from her years of experience in Boston that it’s a gamble to pull people in at the last minute, especially those with limited media experience. Some folks freeze, others are staggeringly inarticulate, others stray off topic. That’s where the art and craft of her job comes in—Erica’s goal is to get people to give relevant, timely, insightful answers. In some ways she loves the tough guests the best—they force her to up her game. She has to size them up in seconds, try to connect, and then draw them out in the right direction. She has the opposite problem with several of the network’s regular political commentators, whom she finds to be self-important, with little original insight, imagination, or wit. The main challenge with these gasbags is getting them to shut up.
One of Erica’s most important interviews is with Allen Menkin, a former NSA official who now works for a private intelligence contractor.
“Mr. Menkin, how do we know ISIL’s claim of crashing the ferry is the truth and not just an opportunistic ploy? After all, it makes them a hero to Muslim extremists around the world, generates fear here in the United States, and no doubt helps with recruiting.”
“That’s a crucial question,” Menkin answers. “My sources inside the intelligence community assure me the government has third-party confirmation that the hacking originated from a location in ISIL-controlled territory in Syria. Without such information I highly doubt the president would have addressed the nation.”
Erica finally turns over the reins at eight p.m.—to Claire Wilcox, no less. The two share a split-screen handoff in which Claire, after thanking Erica for the good work, says, “You look exhausted, my friend. Get some rest.” Erica takes the high road, advising viewers to stay tuned for “Claire Wilcox’s hard-hitting reporting and always intriguing insights.” Claire looks momentarily shocked by her rival’s magnanimity. Poor Claire, she’s had a rough week. There’s no Lalique crystal globe sitting on her desk.
Erica decompresses in her office, kicking off her flats and massaging her feet, checking her e-mails, and sipping a cup of green tea. Greg appears in her doorway. She motions him in. He closes the door behind him.
“If the hacking came from ISIL in Syria, I guess it makes your source a moot point,” he says.
“Which is something of a relief.”
“It’s out of our hands.”
“You did an amazing job today, Greg. You just kept those guests coming. Although I do think it’s time to send Senator Ferguson out to pasture. He’s an angry old man who hasn’t had an original thought since Reagan was in the White House.”
“He’s a media whore—turn on a camera and there he is. They thrive in the native climate down there in DC.”
“Swamp creatures.”
The two share an easy laugh. The laugh feels so good—release from the intensity of the day. They’re silent for a moment, both realizing how strong and instinctive their bond has become. Their relationship has passed through another crucible. They worked together seamlessly for hours—in a pressure-cooker environment—anticipating each other’s needs, confident in each other’s ability. She’s never had a work experience that went quite so smoothly.
“How about I walk you home?” Greg asks.
“Sounds good to me.”