STEALING EDEN Part Two (Continued)

"This is a first," Kate said to herself. "Lynda Day late for her own staff meeting."

"Yeah, who wants to suggest she dock her own pay?" Tiddler replied. "Spike?"

"I'm waiting to see if she really does sleep in a casket first," Spike chimed in.

"I'm sure she does," sputtered Julie. "Do you know what she did? Poured a bucket of cold water over my head to wake me up. Picked the damn lock on my apartment door to do it, too."

"Where were you, anyway?" Spike asked. "Lynda was trying to get in touch with you this morning."

"I must not have heard the phone," Julie said evasively.

"Lynda picks locks now?" Tiddler asked. "Where did she learn how to do that?"

"Must have read it someplace," Lynda said, breezing through the room and inserting herself into the conversation at the opportune moment. "Quiet!" she yelled.

The room took a few moments to quiet down. By now, most all of the Junior Gazette staff had made it to the offices of the senior Gazette building. Word was getting around that Lynda had not died, and Bobby Campbell hastily arranged a news conference to break the news officially. Lynda had taken no questions and offered no explanations publicly. She had just run up the stairs from the press conference to hold her meeting, with Matt Kerr in tow.

"Matt, you wanted to make a few remarks?" she asked him.

"Yes, thank you, Lynda." He paused to collect his thoughts. "First, it is good to have you back from the dead...." He was interrupted by a round of applause, which Spike was prominently leading. "The next few editions of the Junior Gazette are going to be handled from this building. We'll find some space for you somewhere, and you'll have access to our facilities to get the job done. This will be a down-sized version of the Junior Gazette--we don't have the facilities to run two papers here, and until you can get a deal of your own worked out for temporary facilities of your own, that is how it will remain. Finally, I cannot promise you there will continue to be a Junior Gazette. That's something you'll have to take up with whomever winds up in control of Campbell Media Enterprises...."

The rest of his words were drowned out in a chorus of shouts and groans. Lynda shouted everyone down and asked a question of her own. "Who is buying Bobby out?"

"My understanding is that a group of American investors is. Something called the Marriner Group. I'm not familiar with them." Kerr said. "We're checking on that."

"So will we," Lynda said testily. "Kate, get Billy Homer on the phone and get him working on it." Kate was up and out of the chair before Lynda could finish the sentence. Good old Kate--always reliable. Colin, on the other hand, looked like he'd swallowed a lemon.

"Colin, I want to hear how you're going to have the insurance company contacted today. We're going to need the settlement money s soon as possible." Lynda said. "You did pay the bill, right?"

"Um, that's sort of complicated." Colin stammered. "Something has come up...."

Spike grabbed Lynda, who was already beginning to tense up. "Colin," he said, "What has come up?"

"The settlement has been made. The money is already in our account."

"Then what's the problem?" Spike asked.

"The Marriner Group paid the settlement."

"What happened to our insurance company?" Lynda asked.

"A small cashflow problem. I was meaning to pay the bill, but then...."

"Colin," Lynda screamed. "You idiot! You've just sold the whole damn paper!"

"I didn't have a choice...."

"How much, Colin. What were we worth to you this time?"

"They gave me four million pounds for the building. I assume some of that was to cover incidental expenses, too. Cost of doing business and the like."

"How much of it have you spent, lodged, or invested so far?" Lynda asked sarcastically..

"I am shocked that you would even suggest such a thing," Colin yelped. "Don't you know me better than that?" A roomful of eyes rolled at this, and Lynda threw up her hands in disgust.

"Speaking of sellouts, where is my assistant editor?" Lynda spat as she wandered over to stare down Julie, "You could have been out here giving orders this morning, getting the news team ready for this story. Instead you were passed out on your sofa. What the hell good are you in that state? Thank God Kevin had the gumption to get his camera down here to take some pictures or we would not even have anything to show for this. Thank God Frazz is out interviewing people. Maybe they ought to be sitting in Kenny's chair and not you. Kenny would never have spent the night--"

"You bitch," Julie sputtered, but Lynda cut her off.

"Just like the Gaz, Julie. You threw in with the wrong lot just to feather your own nest. You always do what's best for Julie Craig, not the paper. Consider yourself fired!"

"Lynda," Kerr shouted, "Have you lost your mind? For someone that was playing dead, you sure have a lot of ideas about what was supposed to be going on in your absence. How the hell are they supposed to know what to do when you make all the decisions for them?"

"They've had three days to get their act together, and look at them." Lynda suddenly stopped herself. Damn, I've messed that up.

"Three?" Kerr looked at her strangely. "The Junior Gazette building burned last night. What happened to you, Lynda?"

"That's, um, kind of hard to explain...."

"I don't think you're quite all here. Julie Craig was here at the Gazette all night helping us with background. Background on you, for the obituary we ran. You never read it, Lynda. You couldn't be bothered because you were feeling too damn superior to know how much people cared. Lynda, consider yourself relieved of duty indefinitely until you get yourself under control. Julie, you have control of the paper until I say otherwise."

"Thank you, Matt," she said triumphantly and glared at Lynda.

Lynda broke down and wept uncontrollably. Spike was at her side trying vainly to console her. Kerr and Julie glanced nervously at each other and just as quickly looked away. The rest of the room merely watched in sadness and horror as the most powerful personality they had ever met dissolved before their eyes.

Sarah had stopped home to see her parents briefly after leaving Spike's that morning. She didn't bother going to the news team meeting, and felt a little strange at not being invited. She reminded herself that the Junior Gazette was in her past now; and that afternoon, she caught the train to return to college in London. This was an unusual voyage, as some dignitary or other had arranged for an extra car to be added to the train for personal use. This had confused the stationmaster, who wasn't used to dignitaries or extra cars fouling up his schedule. Sarah heard some rumblings about it mentioned by the passengers waiting at the station, but passed it off as not her concern. A limousine had pulled up at the station, and a group of three military officers emerged, greeted by the stationmaster. Old Burgess McFadden had been in the British Army before leaving to become station master, and he briskly saluted the soldiers as they exited the car. The lead officer saluted in return and briskly shook Burgess' hand. Sarah noted the three soldiers--a man and two women--were quite young and didn't seem to look just right for military roles--something odd about them. Then one of the female soldiers happened to glance at her; and in an instant, recognition passed between the two. Laura Wilmot, Colin's young helper from their days in school, waved to Sarah, and tapped the other girl on the shoulder and pointed in Sarah's direction. The other girl smiled and waved--Sophie Jenkins, the other member of the unholy trio. When the senior officer inquired what was going on, the girls whispered something to him and pointed in her direction. The officer motioned for Sarah to join them, and she did, more out of curiosity than anything else.

"This is a surprise. I've heard a lot about you, Sarah."

"You have me at a disadvantage, sir. I know your companions, but I've never met you."

"Silly me," the man said. "Lt. Col. Paul Marriner, United States Army liaison, United Nations Intelligence Taskforce. Bound for London?" Sarah nodded. "Why don't you join us in the private car? Sophie and Laura seem to want to catch up on old times...."

"Why not?" My lucky day, Sarah thought.

They boarded the train. The coach was opulently decorated and seemed very spacious for a railroad car. The stationmaster stuck his nose in the car and said there had been a message arrive for him. Marriner invited the stationmaster in and bade him to sit down while he looked over the message.

"I thought you were going to fly us back to London, Colonel?" Laura asked.

"We'll fly soon enough, you two. Last I checked, they hadn't put in an underground from London to New York." He finished the message, quickly scrawled a reply on the back, and handed it to the stationmaster, who smartly saluted and left the car. Marriner closed the door to the car.

"This might be of interest to you, Sarah. I understand Lynda Day has been relieved of duty as editor of the Junior Gazette."

"What?" Sarah thought a moment. "How on earth would you know that, and why would you care?"

"I did say I worked for an "intelligence" taskforce. Knowing things is my business. I also have a large fortune which I have to squander in order for it to remain manageable, and hence I like to buy things."

"Like Campbell's media holdings, you mean?" Sarah smelled a story falling into her lap.

"Right first time. Care for a drink?" Sarah shook her head no. "I don't either, but I do keep a stock for entertaining. Guests, not staff."

From the background, a pair of voices whined "Oh, come on! You never let us have any fun."

"I do not need a pair of drunken sixteen year old escaped convicts serving as guards. I'm paying you well, and if you wish to get plastered, do it when you aren't on duty."

"Yes, about that," Sarah interjected. "They're supposed to be in jail. Why are they working for you?"

"Intelligence, my dear Sarah. They know the Gazette operations, they know the personnel, they know the area, and they were framed in the first place. Call it combining necessity and justice if you please."

"We did a story on them. They were arrested along with a bunch of bikers at a warehouse fire a year ago. The verdict was arson to cover up a stolen auto parts chop shop."

Sophie and Laura wandered over and joined the conversation. "Colin was buying cut rate parts from these guys," Laura said. "We were supposed to pick them up."

"Only they were stolen," Sophie said bitterly,. "and the warehouse was a front for some other activities."

"And that's why..." Laura was about to say something, but a quick glance from Marriner shut her up.

"Classified, sorry." Marriner said apologetically. "My associates tend to get carried away. Youthful inexperience. Another of my acquaintances had a hand in that explosion, but alas Miss McShane never got around to bailing Sophie and Laura out. I shall have to remind Dorothy of that someday."

"Whenever she has the time," Sophie grumbled, and she and Laura left to go to an adjoining room.

The train gave a jerk as it began to leave the station. Sarah sat down on a large royal blue sofa and took in her surroundings. She noticed a large portrait on the wall--a young blonde woman in a beautiful wedding dress.

"My late wife," Marriner said simply.

"I'm sorry," Sarah said. "She was very beautiful."

"Yes, she was." Marriner looked wistfully at the portrait. "Her name was Jennifer, and we married in high school. She was nineteen when she died, and there hasn't been a day since then that I haven't thought of her and cried at least a little."

Sarah wasn't sure what to say. "Was she ill?"

"Murdered."

"Oh," she said quietly. "I'm not doing very well in this conversation, am I?"

"Could anybody, Sarah?"

The two of them sat beside one another and didn't say a word for some time. After a while, Marriner closed his eyes and fell asleep. Sarah just sat there and watched him.

To Part Two (Final)