The Panic Zone Read Online Free PDF Page B

you know for certain that Gabriela even met this Angella?”
    â€œWhat is this, Gannon?”
    â€œYou’ve ruled out other possibilities, like this source Gabriela was supposed to meet, or didn’t meet.”
    â€œWhat do you know about anything?” Porter said. “You’ve been here all of what, a few hours?”
    â€œHold off, Hugh.” Archer turned to Gannon. “Jack, we talked about this. Gabriela was not lured to the café. She chose it, which is our practice when meeting sources. It’s possible that Angella Roho-Ruiz was followed and targeted at her meeting with Gabriela.”
    â€œYou’re making assumptions. You haven’t confirmed if Gabriela met her source or who her source is, or was. You’re assuming that since Angella Roho-Ruiz is among the dead, then she must have been the source and this was a narco hit.”
    â€œListen, Jack, right now, everything points to narco terrorists,” Archer said. “Angella Roho-Ruiz comes from a mighty cartel. At this level, this kind of bombing is their signature.”
    â€œIs it?” Gannon asked.
    â€œIt is,” Porter said. “But you wouldn’t know that, coming from Buffalo.”
    â€œFuck you.”
    â€œHey!” Archer said. “Everybody, dial it down. We’re all pissed off and on edge over Gabriela and Marcelo, so let’s just dial it down and work.”
    Archer gave Gannon names and phone numbers of employees at businesses near the bombing. Most were still operating. Then Archer and the others went back to concentrate on the story.
    With Luiz’s help, Gannon spent the rest of the day mining the list for a break. Other than hearing the explosion and seeing the chaotic response, no one had witnessed anything unusual, leaving Gannon to figure Archer just wanted him out of the way.
    After they’d filed, Archer, Porter and Turner left to interview security officials and other sources for new information. They returned at the end of the day and filed another update. Then they invited Gannon to an early dinner inSanta Teresa. The restaurant was in a colonial building on a narrow, curving palm-lined street. They monitored their cell phones and BlackBerries while they ate. After the meal, they all drank, except for Gannon.
    He wasn’t a drinker.
    â€œAre you curious,” Porter turned to Gannon after his fourth beer “as to why everyone’s giving you a hard time?”
    Gannon shrugged.
    â€œDown here, we bleed for our stories. We’ve all stared down the barrel of a gun. We’ve all faced jail, abduction, threats, intimidation and beatings.”
    â€œThe thing is,” Turner said, “we know about your hiring and the bit of stink around your situation at your former rag, the Buffalo Sentinel. ”
    â€œIs that right?”
    Turner bobbed her head in a big alcohol-laden nod.
    â€œYou should be glad you’re not working there anymore,” Porter said. “The print newspaper industry is melting. But the WPA will survive as one of the world’s biggest online content providers…. I digress.”
    â€œYou digress,” Archer agreed.
    â€œJack,” Porter put his arm around Gannon. “We heard about your little adventure story about that cop out of Buffalo that impressed Melody so much that, despite everyone’s advice to the contrary, she hired you. And from what we understand, the story was more luck than journalism.”
    Gannon shook his head, smiling at their inebriated arrogance.
    â€œYou guys are good.”
    â€œWell,” Porter chuckled, “we are.” He pointed to Archer, Turner and himself. “All Pulitzer winners, pal.”
    â€œIt’s amazing that you know what I went through for my ‘little adventure story’ sitting all the way down here in South America, because I didn’t bump into any Pulitzer winners while I was living it. In fact, it was the WPA who begged me to