Chapter 14 - The Broadcast Studio
The matte-black SUV screeched to a halt right in front of the gleaming glass facade of the WNVR News Network headquarters downtown. The rain had slowed to a steady mist, reflecting the blinding neon lights of the broadcasting sign against the wet pavement.
"This is it," Miller said, shifting into park and killing the engine. "Once we walk through those glass doors, there’s no turning back. The moment this goes live on air, Richard Vance and his federal handlers will know exactly where we are."
Emily looked back at the four boys. Julian was fast asleep again, leaning against Marcus, while Toby and Leo looked up at her with fierce, trusting eyes.
"We're ready," Emily said firmly. She reached down, picked up the old brown leather suitcase, and opened the door, stepping out into the cool night air.
Miller flanked her left side, his hand resting reassuringly near his jacket pocket, while Leo, Toby, Marcus, and a sleep-dazed Julian walked tightly clustered between them. They marched through the automatic glass doors of the lobby, drawing immediate, startled stares from the security guards behind the front desk.
"Hold on, you can't just—" a security guard started, stepping out from behind the counter.
Miller flashed a worn federal badge so fast the guard barely caught a glimpse of the gold plating. "Federal witness protection transport. We need immediate access to the live broadcast floor. Director Vance’s crimes are about to be exposed on a national scale."
Before the guard could process the badge or call management, Emily bypassed the front desk and headed straight for the elevator banks, pressing the button for the main newsroom floor with her yellow-gloved hand.
The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, and they piled in. As the car ascended toward the top floor, Emily's heart hammered against her ribs, but her hands were entirely steady.
The doors opened directly onto the bustling newsroom floor. Telephones were ringing, producers were shouting across desks, and on the raised studio platform visible through the glass partition, the lead anchor was wrapping up a segment just minutes before the midnight live broadcast.
Emily marched right toward the double doors of the live studio, ignoring the panicked protests of a floor producer who rushed forward to intercept them.
"Stop! You can't enter the studio, we're live in thirty seconds!" the producer yelled, waving his arms frantically.
May you like
Emily pushed past him, stepped directly onto the illuminated soundstage under the glaring studio lights, and placed the old brown leather suitcase squarely on the news anchor’s desk, right in front of the horrified, cameras-rolling host.
---
