Chapter 23
(Seattle, Washington, Wednesday evening, Oct. 1, 2013)
MAC CALLED THE OFFICE. There was a pang when the person who answered wasn’t Janet.
“News desk.”
“It’s Mac,” he began.
“Goddamn it, why aren’t you in here! All hell is breaking loose. AND I AM NOT JANET!”
Mac snorted. No s**t. “Hey, I’m at the command station for the police response to the bombings. I’ll have pics in five, a story in 10, and video—if I can get the f*****g camera to work—in 30 minutes. OK? You ready for a short take over the phone?”
Silence. Then an audible exhalation. And another deep breath.
“Thank God. OK, give me the lead. We’ll get it up online ASAP. Pictures more important than words. First, where are you?”
Brett Waller was a good man, Mac thought fleetingly. But as he said, he was no Janet. Jan
