18

Reporter Face-Off

The team found another newsstand alongside the street outside Central Park, Captain Beck once again flipping out a coin for a paper while muttering something about not losing this one in a gunfight. Claire, meanwhile, was voicing her verbal objections to Agent Hessman, Professor Stein, and anyone else on the team who would listen.

“Listen, I know a lot about what’s going on in this city.”

“I imagine that comes with being a nosey reporter,” Agent Hessman replied blandly.

“A tenacious one,” she corrected. “And there’s a lot that you could tell me, but you guys have got to talk to me. Tell me what’s going on, or I don’t talk.”

“That hasn’t seemed to have stopped you yet,” Agent Hessman remarked as he leafed through the paper.

“What?” she gasped. “Why, I don’t think I’ve ever—”

“Claire,” Professor Stein cut in, “you have to understand that‍—‍”

“And what’s more,” she continued, “I suspect that you aren’t federal agents at all. Now that would be a guaranteed story that I could take to the police. You guys get jail time, and I get a story about some rogue element or group of spies going on with their own secret mission. Sounds like a story that could really sell papers.”

She planted her feet firmly on the ground and held her stance right there in front of them, the look on her face daring them to cross her. Agent Harris looked a question to Agent Hessman, who replied with a slight shake of his head, and returned Claire’s determined gaze with a calm one of his own.

“I can keep this up all day,” she said.

“She can,” Professor Stein acknowledged. “She can glare with the best of them.”

For a moment, Agent Hessman and Claire simply stared at one another, she with a focused fury, he with calm regard as he seemed to analyze her every nuance of expression. All the while, groups of passersby came and went around them, ignorant of the import of what was transpiring within their very midst. Finally he broke the stalemate with a calmly voiced statement.

“You do a very good bluff, Miss Hill . . . Very well, we are not with any federal agency that you would know of.”

“Ha! I knew it. So what are you, spies with some other faction? Anarchists?”

“However,” he continued, “we are trying to protect the interests of the United States. That’s all I can tell you for now, as you will not believe anything else.”

“Try me,” she said challengingly. “I’m quite the open-minded reporter.”

“Claire.” Professor Stein now intervened, reaching over to gently pull her around. “What Lou says is true. We haven’t lied to you. I haven’t lied to you.”

“You just haven’t told me the entire truth,” she countered. “Okay then, look me in the face and tell me straight out. If you’re lying, I’ll see it immediately.”

“A good trait for a reporter to have,” he stated.

“It’s come in handy,” she admitted. “Now talk.”

Professor Stein faced her directly, his eyes looking straight into hers, and spoke as simply and directly as he could. “What Lou says is correct. We are working for the benefit of this country but not with any federal agency you could ever know of. What we hold back from you is both for your own good and ours, and none of it is anything that you would believe. That is all there is to it. If there were more we could tell, we would.”

For several seconds she stood staring into his eyes, looking for any trace of a lie, then broke off with a cough and a nod of admission. “You’re telling the truth.”

“I would never lie to you, Claire.”

“I . . . believe you.”

She stared into his eyes a moment longer, perhaps looking for something else, then broke away and faced Agent Hessman. “Okay, we’re back to me helping you. What do you want to know?”

Agent Hessman turned another page of the newspaper, then folded it up and handed it to Captain Beck before replying. “We know that a meeting of some sort is involved. An important one that would involve high-level dignitaries. Perhaps you could start by listing any important events you may know of. Especially the kind that might not always make it into the popular press.”

“There’s a few that come to mind,” she admitted. “Okay . . .”

Agent Harris guided them down the street, away from any overeager ears that might grow interested in what they were talking about as Claire listed events she knew about.

“Well, there’s been that Fascist movement in Italy, and some anarchist bombings here that some believe are being led by an Italian named Luigi Galleani . . . The Paris Peace Conference was a few months back, and after the Treaty of Versailles, they started talking about forming some League of Nations. In fact, President Wilson is supposed to be arriving in town to give a talk to a few congressmen about the US joining in with this league.”

Professor Stein suddenly broke in. “On his way to deliver the treaty to the Senate. He was supposed to do some campaigning about the League of Nations, but I didn’t know about a secret meeting with‍—Claire, do you know which congressmen will be at this meeting?”

“I’m not really sure.” She shrugged. “It was all I could find out that this meeting is happening at all. It’s really supersecret, with lots of security around it.”

“Ben, exactly how important is it to know who’ll be at this meeting?” Agent Hessman asked.

“It could mean everything,” he said with a meaningful look. “Perhaps the single major opposition leader to the league was a congressman named Henry Cabot Lodge.”

Here he pulled Agent Hessman a few paces away from Claire and continued in a more subdued tone. “He was the reason the United States never joined the league.”

“Hmm,” Agent Hessman mused. “So eliminate him and the US joins the League of Nations?”

“Well, it might take a bit more than that. History might be pretty resilient. Another opposition leader could rise up to take his place, for instance.”

“But it’s still a very good place to start. We’re looking for an important high-level meeting, and this sounds about as important and high level as they get.”

He motioned to the others and called out, “Come on, we’ve got a meeting to save.”

“But to where?” Dr. Weiss asked.

“I said President Wilson was coming here for a meeting,” Claire pointed out. “I didn’t say where it would be. I wasn’t able to find that out.”

“Where else in this city would you hold a meeting involving the president and several key congressman?” Agent Hessman prompted. “City hall, of course. Now let’s get moving.”

They started down the street in search of the nearest sidewalk, Professor Stein walking next to Claire behind Agents Hessman and Harris, with Captain Beck and Dr. Weiss following them, and Lieutenant Phelps bringing up the rear with their Japanese prisoner still held securely in the discreet armlock. They had traversed no more than a few feet when their prisoner took advantage of a passing group of people and launched a kick to someone’s shin.

As the pedestrian spun around, crying out in pain, Eiji pointed his free hand accusingly at the lieutenant, who then became the focus of the other man’s rage. Before the lieutenant could do much to respond to the anger of the one with the sore shin, however, Eiji stomped his foot hard onto the lieutenant’s foot, his other heel coming up hard between his legs. To a pained snarl from Lieutenant Phelps and a confused look from the stranger, Eiji quickly spun himself away until he was facing the lieutenant, who held him now by the hand, and brought his free elbow down hard onto the other’s forearm with a sharp martial cry.

The lieutenant’s grip released, and Eiji broke into a run, shoving his way rapidly through the crowd, all within a split second.

“He’s going to warn his team what he heard us discuss,” Agent Hessman said. “After him!”

An angry Lieutenant Phelps was the first one to break into a run.