The Artifact by Jack Quinn Read Free Book Online Page B

Princess?”
    Andrea smirked. “I’ve been under fire before, remember?”
    “This would be different. After your broadcast a lot of criminal minds will be figuring how to snatch the loot from a bunch of amateurs.”
    Andy dismissed the idea with a wave of her hand. “Not until they’re sure it exists and where.”
    “So we’re looking for guys, gals in some squad in the Second.”
    “Focus on guys. I think women have a stronger sense of morality than men.”
    Sammy rolled his eyes in mock irony.
    “Hey!” Andrea said. “I do what it takes to get the job done. You don’t tiptoe through the tulips trying to break past a phalanx of macho suits.”
    “Tell me about it,” Sammy said.
    She saw the flash of pain cross her friend’s face and pressed her lips together. Two years ago, after Sammy’s partner had died of AIDS, and a still unknown homophobic employee had started the malicious rumor that Sammy was HIV positive. This information was quickly relayed to Rand Duncan, who immediately laid Sammy off before the lie could be challenged with the fact of his negative test results.
    When Andrea caught up with that charade she organized a petition signed by most NNC employees, confronting Duncan with it during a well-attended staff meeting at which she threatened to take his blatant act of discrimination to a competitive network and sue the knickers off Duncan and any other NNC troglodytes who believed AIDS could be transmitted by shaking hands.
    “How would the perps react to any upright trooper,” Andrea continued, “man or woman, who decided that stealing a priceless treasure was wrong?”
    “Lots of things can happen out there away from the strictures of Main Street, middle America. Loaded weapons you’re trained to use, your focus is killing. A few guys with rough backgrounds, in the service as an option to jail. Hard to relate to civilized society back home.”
    “They’re back in it now,” Andrea said, “and we need to find them.”
     
    Shortly before noon, Andrea poured vodka into an empty can of Coke and replaced the pint back in her desk drawer just as T.P. Viola gave a courtesy rap of his knuckles on her closed door, then poked his head inside her office.
    “Got a minute?”
    “I’m right in the middle of something, Toilet, can we....”
    Viola pushed the door open wide, shut it, then walked to the chair beside her desk and sat down with a manila file folder in hand. The news director of NNC-TV was a short wiry man with thinning black hair, a placid manner that concealed an infallible sense for the best lead story of the day and a sense of integrity forged from steel cables.
    “Oh, come on in, Toilet,” she said, “have a seat.”
    When he had hired Andrea five years ago, no one at the station knew Viola’s first name or what ‘T.P.’ stood for. Within a month, her inquisitive nature discovered that her boss’s given name was Theodosius Pangloss, and the initials stemmed from an incident in his youth when he had served as a navy ensign aboard a destroyer as supply officer. During training maneuvers with the fleet, his ship ran out of toilet paper, and the captain became the joke of the flotilla when he was forced to beg 300 rolls from his peers steaming beside him. Andrea never revealed this information to anyone and only addressed him as ‘Toilet’ when they were alone.
    “Great segment last night.”
    “Thank you, kind sir. Just doing the job that will make Randy cringe when my lawyer submits our contract renewal.”
    “Did you catch the morning news?”
    “Some.” She picked up the Coke can, took a sip and replaced it next to her keyboard.
    Viola reached for the remote on her desk, turned his chair around to face her monitor and clicked it on. The TV screen showed a man and woman sitting side by side at a chrome anchor desk with their station logo.
    “...will go to any lengths to get an audience,” the man said, “which borders on irresponsible reporting.”
    “Yeah,”