Chapter 3 Chapter One

As she hurried down Pennsylvania Avenue, a block from the White House, shivering in the December chill, she heard the horrifying, deafening screech of an air-raid siren, followed by a The sound of a bomber flying overhead as it prepares to drop its deadly cargo.She stopped, her whole body was frozen, and she was submerged in a terrifying blood-colored mist. Suddenly she was in Sarajevo again, and she could hear the piercing whistling of bombs falling.Even though her eyes were closed, it was impossible to block out what was going on around her.The sky was blazing with flames, and she was nearly deafened by the sound of automatic weapon fire, the roar of planes, and the woo-boom of deadly mortar shells.Nearby houses exploded into showers of cement, brick and dust.Terrified people ran around, trying to escape death.

A man's voice came from far, far away, "Are you all right?" Slowly and cautiously, she opened her eyes.She was back on Pennsylvania Avenue, listening to the fading sounds of jet planes and ambulance sirens that brought back memories in the cold winter sun. "Miss—are you all right?" She forced herself back to reality. "Yes, I... I'm fine, thank you." He stared at her. "Wait a minute! You're Dana Evans. I'm your big admirer, I see you every night on Washington Tribune, and I've seen all your reports from Yugoslavia." He The voice is full of enthusiasm. "Must be exciting, covering that war, hey?"

"Yes." Dana Evans' throat was dry.It was thrilling to see people being blown to pieces, the bodies of babies thrown into wells and the remains floating down the bloody river. She suddenly felt sick to her stomach. "I'm sorry." She turned and hurried away. Dana Evans just returned from Yugoslavia three months ago and still has vivid memories of it.Walking fearlessly down the street in broad daylight, listening to the birds singing and the people laughing, seemed unreal.There was no laughter in Sarajevo, only the explosion of mortars and the screams that followed.

John Donne was right, Dana thought.No man is an island, and what happens to one happens to all of us, for we all came from the earth and the stars.We share the same moment.The almighty middleman starts sweeping the next minute relentlessly: In San Diego, a ten-year-old girl is being raped by her stepfather... In New York City, two young lovers kiss by candlelight... In Flanders, a seventeen-year-old girl gave birth to a disabled baby... In Chicago, a firefighter risked his life to save a cat from a burning house... In Sao Paulo, hundreds of football fans were trampled to death when the stands collapsed...

In Pisa, a mother rejoices as her child takes her first steps in life... All this and an infinite number of other things that happened in a mere sixty seconds, Dana thought.Time "ticks" forward until finally sending us into an equally unknown eternity. Dana Evans, twenty-seven, was a lovely-looking, slender, dark-haired woman with large, intelligent gray eyes, a heart-shaped face, and a gentle, contagious smile. Dana is a child who grew up in the military camp, the daughter of a colonel's ordnance instructor who travels between bases. This kind of life makes Dana have a soft spot for adventure.Sensitive and bold, the combination of the two is irresistible.During Dana's one-year coverage of the Yugoslav War, audiences around the world were captivated by the beautiful, vibrant young woman who went to the battlefields and risked her life to report on the horrific events that took place around her.Now, wherever she goes, she can feel the pointing and whispering of people recognizing her.Dana Evans is embarrassed by her fame.

Dana hurried down Pennsylvania Avenue past the White House.She looked at her watch and thought, I'm going to be late for the meeting. Occupying an entire block of Sixth Avenue NW, the Washington Tribune Company owned four separate buildings: a newspaper printing factory, newspaper office buildings, administration buildings, and a television station.Washington Tribune Television's studios occupy the sixth floor of the fourth building.The place is always buzzing, with cubicles of people busy at their computers.The latest news from all over the world is continuously reported in the telegrams sent from the six news centers.The grandeur of its action scenes always surprised and thrilled Dana.

It was here that Dana met Jeff Connors, an All-Star baseball pitcher who had broken his arm in a skiing accident.Jeff is currently a sports reporter for Washington Tribune Television and also writes a daily column for the Washington Tribune Syndicate.He was in his thirties, tall and thin, with a boyish face and a charming easy-going charm.Jeff and Dana adore each other, and they've talked about getting married. In the three months since Dana returned from Sarajevo, Washington has changed rapidly.The company's previous boss, Leslie Stewart, disappeared after selling the company to an international media mogul, Eliot Cromwell.

The morning session with Matt Baker and Elliott Cromwell is about to start.When Dana arrives, she is greeted by Matt's assistant, the sexy red-haired Abbie Rathman: "They're waiting for you," Abby said. "Thanks, Abby." Dana walked into the corner office. "Matt... Elliott..." "You're late," Matt Baker grumbled. Baker, in his early fifties, was a short, gray-haired man with a rough disposition and a lively mind.He wore a rumpled suit, as if it had been worn to sleep, and Dana guessed it might have been.He manages the television industry for the Washington Tribune Corporation.

Eliot Cromwell was over sixty years old, generous and friendly, with a wide smile.He's a billionaire, but there are a dozen different theories, some not glamorous, about how he amassed his fortune.In the media industry whose purpose is to disseminate information, Eliot Cromwell is a mysterious figure. He looked at Dana and said, "Matt told me we beat the competition again. Your ratings are going up." "Glad to hear that, Elliott." "Dana, I watch six news every night, but your show is different. I'm not sure why, but I love it." Dana was able to tell Elliott Cromwell why.Other news commentators on the air to millions of viewers just scripted the news rather than engaging with them.Dana decided early on to take a personal approach.In her mind, she was conversing with a lonely widow one day, a hopelessly bedridden person the next, and a lonely salesman away from his family the day after.Her newscasts sound familiar and relatable, and viewers love them and respond.

"I hear you're interviewing an exciting guest tonight?" Matt Baker said. Dana nodded: "Gary Winthrop." Gary Winthrop, America's Prince Charming, one of the nation's most distinguished families, was young, handsome, and charming. "He doesn't like publicity," said Cromwell. "How did you get him to agree?" "We have a common hobby," Dana told him. Cromwell frowned. "really?" "Yes." Dana smiled. "I love Monet and Van Gogh, and he, likes to buy them. Seriously, I've interviewed him and we've gotten on well. We're interviewing him for his press conference this afternoon, and we're going to play the video later, My interview is a follow-up report."

"It's wonderful." Cromwell smiled. For the next hour they discussed a new program the network was planning: Crime Scan.Dana will serve as producer and host of the column's one-hour investigative program.The show serves a dual purpose: to right the injustices that have been done, and to spark interest in cracking the legacy. "There's a lot of other factual shows out there," Matt reminded. "We've got to do better than them. I think we should start with an exciting story. The kind that grabs the attention of the audience and—" The intercom buzzed.Matt Baker pressed one of the keys. "I told you, don't answer the phone. How—?" Abbie's voice came over the intercom. "Sorry. Miss Evans. From school in Kenmore. Sounds like something important." Matt Baker looked at Dana: "Line 1." Dana picked up the phone, her heart pounding. "Hello... How is Kenmore?" She listened for a while. "Oh... oh... ok, I'll be right there." She put the phone down. "What happened?" Matt asked. "They told me to go to school and pick up Kenmore," Dana said. Eliot Cromwell frowned. "That's the boy you brought back from Sarajevo." "yes." "This incident is quite a sensation." "Yes." Dana reluctantly replied. "You found him living in a vacant lot, didn't you?" "That's right," Dana said. "Is he sick or what?" "No." She denied it emphatically, and she hated even mentioning those days. "Kenmore's missing an arm. It was blown off by a bomb." "And you adopted him?" "No formal adoption yet, Elliott. I will. I'm his guardian at the moment." "Okay, go get him. We'll talk about criminal scans later." Once Dana arrived at Theodore Roosevelt Middle School, she made a beeline for the vice principal's office.Vice-principal Vera Kestov was sitting at the table. She looked tired and her hair turned gray early after she was over fifty.Kenmore sat across from her.He was twelve years old, and his thin body was not commensurate with his age, and his skin was sallow.He had tousled blond hair and a stubborn chin.What should have been his right arm was now an empty sleeve.His slender body seemed dwarfed by the huge room. When Dana walked into the office, the atmosphere inside was eerie. "Hello, Mrs. Kestoff," said Dana cheerfully, "Kenmore." Kenmore was staring at his shoes. "I heard something happened?" Dana continued. "Yes, of course something happened, Miss Evans." She handed Dana a piece of paper. Dana looked at the scrap of paper, puzzled.It reads: vodja, pizda, zbosti, fukati, nezakonski, trok, trok, umreti, tepec.She raised her eyes. "I—I don't understand. They're Serbian, aren't they?" Mrs. Kestov said firmly, "It is. Unlucky for Kenmore, I happen to be Serbian. Those are the words Kenmore uses in school." She flushed. "Serbian chauffeurs don't speak like that, Miss Evans, so I would never allow words like that to come out of a little boy's mouth. Kenmore says I'm a pizda." Dana said, "Pi—?" "I know Kenmore is new to our country, so I've been trying to be considerate of him. But he - he deserves a lot of criticism for his performance, he's always fighting with people, and when I scolded him this morning, he - he actually Insulting me. It's too much." Dana said tactfully, "I think you know how hard he's in, Mrs. Kestorff, and—" "I told you I was understanding him, but he was testing my patience." "I see." Dana looked towards Kenmore.His eyes were still downcast, his face sullen. "I really hope it's the last time," said Frau Kestorff. "Me too." Dana stood up. "I'll give you the report card from Kenmore." Mrs. Kestoff opened a drawer, took out a card and handed it to Dana. "Thank you," Dana said. Kenmore said nothing on the way home. "What do you think I should do to you?" Dana asked him, "Why do you always fight and say things like that?" "I didn't know she knew Serbian." When they reached the door of the apartment, Dana said, "I've got to get back to the studio right away, Kenmore. You're all right here?" "Word." When Kenmore uttered the word to her for the first time, Dana thought he hadn't understood her, but she soon realized that it was a slang term among children. "Word" means "line". "Phat" is used to describe certain members of the opposite sex: pretty, passionate and alluring.Everything is either cool or cool or awesome or great.If you come across something you hate, call it disgusting. Dana pulled out the report card Mrs. Kestoff handed her.Her lips were pressed together as she watched.History: Pass.English: pass.Natural Science: Pass.Social Sciences: Failed.Mathematics: excellent. Dana looked at the report card, feeling worried.Oh God, what should I do? "Let's talk another time," she said. "I'm late." Kenmore was an enigma to Dana.When the two of them were together, he was fantastic.He is friendly, considerate and very endearing.On weekends, Dana and Jeff turn Washington into his playground.They have been to the National Zoo full of rare birds and animals, the star of which is the giant panda from abroad.They visited the National Air and Space Museum, where Kenmore saw the Wright Brothers' first airplane hanging from the ceiling, and then walked through the Space Lab to touch rocks from the moon.They've been to the Kennedy Center and the amphitheater.Dana and Jeff took Kenmore to try Tom Tom's pizza, Mike Turks' tacos and Georgia Brown's Southern-style chicken nuggets.Kenmore cherishes every moment.He enjoyed being with Dana and Jeff so much. But... when Dana had to leave the house to go to work, Kenmore became a different person, he became hostile and irreconcilable.It was out of the question to make Dana a housekeeper all day, and the nannies had recounted how dreadful the nights with Kenmore were. Jeff and Dana had tried to reason with him, but it hadn't worked. Maybe he needs expert help, Dana thought.She was ignorant of the deep fears that haunted Kenmore. The evening news on Washington Tribune TV is on the air.Dana's co-hosts, the dashing Richard Melton and Jeff Connors, sat beside her. Dana Evans on the air: "Foreign news, France and England are still at loggerheads over mad cow disease. See René Linore's report from Reims." In the control room, Anastasia Mann gave the order: "Get on location." A picture of the French countryside jumped onto the TV screen. The studio door opened and a group of men walked in and approached the broadcasting station. Everyone raised their heads.Tom Hawkins, the young and ambitious producer of the evening news, said: "Dana, you know Gary Winthrop." "certainly." Gary Winthrop is more handsome in person than in photos.He was in his forties, with bright blue eyes, and a benevolent, charming smile. "We meet again, Dana. Thank you for inviting me." "It's an honor to have you here." Dana looked around.Half a dozen secretaries suddenly found themselves an urgent excuse to be in the studio.Gary Winthrop must have gotten used to this, Dana thought, amused. "Your panel starts in a few minutes. Come sit next to me, will you? This is Richard Melton." The two men shook hands. "You know Jeff Connors, don't you?" "Of course I do. You're supposed to be pitching the field, Jeff, not commenting on the game." "Wish I could do that," Jeff said sadly. They cut to a commercial after the French exterior ended, and Gary Winthrop sat and watched the commercial end. Anastasia Mann said from the control room, "Get ready. We'll put the video on right away." She silently counted down with her index finger. "Three...two...one." The video on the monitor switches to outside the Georgetown Museum of Art.A commentator held a microphone, facing the bitter cold wind. "We're standing in front of the Georgetown Museum of Art, where Mr. Gary Winthrop is presenting a $50 million donation to the museum. We're going in now." The TV screen switched to the spacious hall.A large crowd of city officials, celebrities and television reporters surrounded Gary Winthrop.Curator Morgan Ormond is presenting him with a large badge. "Mr. Winthrop, on behalf of the Museum, the large audience that visited here, and the members of the Museum's Board of Trustees, we would like to express our heartfelt thanks to you for this most generous gift." The camera lights flickered. Gary Winthrop delivered a speech: "I hope it will give young American painters a better opportunity not only to express themselves, but also to have their talents recognized around the world." The crowd burst into applause. The commentator on the tape said: "This is Bill Toland reporting from the Georgetown Museum of Art, now back in the studio. Dana?" The camera's red light came on. "Thank you, Bill. We are very honored to have Mr. Gary Winthrop in the studio to talk to us about his generosity." The camera pulls back to a wider angle to frame Gary Winthrop. Dana asked, "Mr. Winthrop, is this $50 million gift going to buy works for the museum?" "No. It will be used to build a new wing for young American artists who may not have had other opportunities to showcase their talents. Another part will be used to give awards to gifted children in the inner city. There is Too many teenagers grow up knowing nothing about art. They may have heard of the great French Impressionists, but I want them to be aware of their fine heritage and familiarize themselves with American artists like Sargent, Homer and Remington. This funding will be used to encourage young artists to develop their talents and inspire interest in the arts among all youth.” Dana asked, "There are rumors that you intend to run for the Senate, Mr. Winthrop. Is this information reliable?" Gary Winthrop laughed. "I'm making some preparations." "You're going to be popular. You're well ahead of the unofficial polls we've seen." Gary Winthrop nodded. "My family has a long history of government service. If I'm of any use to the country, I'll stay here and do whatever is asked of me." "Thank you for coming to us, Mr. Winthrop." "Thank you." Gary Winthrop said his goodbyes and left the studio during a commercial break. "We need more people like him in Congress," Jeff said, sitting next to Dana. "Amen." "Maybe we can clone him. By the way—what's up with Kenmore?" Dana frowned. "Jeff - please don't talk about Kenmore and clones at the same time. I can't handle it." "Has the school problem been solved in the morning?" "Yes, but that's only today. Tomorrow is—" Anastasia Mann said: "We started again. Three...two...one." The red light came on.Dana stared at the teleprompter. "It's Jeff Connors sports time." Jeff stares at the camera. "Merlin, the so-called magician, is out for the Washington Bullets tonight. Jeevan Howard juggles, Georgi Muresan and Rasheed Wallace help fan the flames, but the drink was bitter and they ended up having to Don't swallow it with pride..." At two o'clock in the morning, two men were taking pictures off the living room wall of Gary Winthrop's residence in the upscale neighborhood of Northwest Washington.One man wears the mask of the Lone Wanderer and the other wears the mask of Captain Midnight.Working at a leisurely pace, they took works out of their frames and stuffed their trophies into burlap pockets. The Lone Wanderer asked, "When will the patrol come again?" "Captain Midnight" replied: "Four in the morning." "It's nice of them to arrange a time for us, isn't it?" "yes." Captain Midnight took a painting off the wall and slammed it on the oak floor.The two men stopped what they were doing and listened, silence. The Lone Rover said, "Try again. Louder." "Captain Midnight" removes another painting and slams it to the ground. "Now let's see what happens." In the upstairs bedroom, Gary Winthrop was awakened by the sound and sat up in bed.Did he hear the noise, or did he dream of the noise?He listened for a while longer.silence. Not sure, he got up and went out into the hall and flipped the light switch.The corridor was still dark. "Hi. Is anyone down there?" No answer.He went down the corridor to the living room door.He stopped and looked at the two masked men in disbelief. "What the hell are you doing?" The Lone Rover turned to face him and said, "Hi, Gary. Sorry we woke you up. Go back to sleep." A suppressed Beretta appeared in his hand.He pulled the trigger twice and watched Gary Winthrop's chest spatter in a rain of blood. The Lone Wanderer and Captain Midnight watched him fall to the ground.Satisfied, they turned around and picked up the painting.