- China sale N-22?

She said, "Uh-huh..."

"I mean, let's face it," Samuelson continued, "The Airbus A-340 is a superior plane in every way. It's newer than the Norton widebody. Better range. It's better in every way. We've been trying to explain this to the Chinese, and they are starting to understand our perspective. Anyway, if I had to guess, I'd guess the Norton sale to the People's Republic is going to fall apart. And of course safety concerns are part of that decision. Off the record, I think the Chinese are very concerned the plane is unsafe."

- C thinks airplane unsafe.

"Who would I talk to about that?" she said.

"Well, as you know, the Chinese are generally reluctant to discuss negotiations in progress," Samuelson said. "But I know a guy over at Commerce who may be able to help you. He's with the Ex-Im Bank, which provides long-term financing for overseas sales."

"What's his name?" she said.

His name was Robert Gordon. It took fifteen minutes for the operator at the Commerce Department to find him. Jennifer doodled. Finally the secretary said, "I'm sorry, Mr. Gordon is in a meeting."

"I'm calling from Newsline" she said.

"Oh." A pause. "Just a minute, please."

She smiled. It never failed.

Gordon came on, and she asked him about the JAA certification, and the Norton sale to the People's Republic. "Is it true the sale is in jeopardy?"

"Every airplane sale is in jeopardy until it's concluded, Ms. Malone," Gordon said. "But as far as I know, the China sale is in good standing. I did hear a rumor that Norton is having trouble with JAA certification for Europe."

"What's the trouble there?"

"Well," Gordon said, "I'm not really an aircraft expert, but the company's had an awful lot of problems."

- Norton has problems.

Gordon said, "There was that thing in Miami yesterday. And of course you heard about that incident in Dallas."

"What's that?"

"Last year, they had an engine flameout on the runway. And everybody jumped off the plane. A bunch of people broke their legs jumping off the wings."

- Dallas incident - engine/broken legs. Tape?

She said, "Uh-huh..."

"I don't know about you," Gordon said, "but I don't like to fly very much, and uh, Jesus Christ, people are jumping off the airplane, that's not a plane I'd want to be on."

She wrote:

- jumping off plane YOW!

- unsafe aircraft.

And beneath it, in large block letters, she wrote:

DEATHTRAP.

She called Norton Aircraft for their version of the story. She got a PR guy named Benson. He sounded like one of those drawling, half-asleep corporate guys. She decided to hit him right between the eyes. "I want to ask you about the Dallas incident."

"Dallas?" His voice sounded startled.

Good.

"Last year," she said. "You had a flameout of the engine, and people jumped off the plane. Broke their legs."

"Oh, right. That incident involved a 737," Benson said.

- incident w/737.

"Uh-huh. Well, what can you tell me about it?"

"Nothing," Benson said. "That wasn't our plane."

"Oh, come on," she said. "Look, I already know about the incident."

"That's a Boeing plane."

She sighed. "Jesus. Give me a break." It was so tedious, the way these PR types stonewalled. As if a good investigative reporter would never find out the truth. They seemed to think if they didn't tell her, no one would.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Malone, but we don't make that plane."

"Well, if that's really true," she said, her tone openly sarcastic, "I suppose you can tell me how I can confirm it?"

"Yes ma'am," Benson said. "You dial area code 206 and ask for Boeing. They'll help you."

Click.

Jesus! What a prick! How could these companies treat the media this way? You piss off a reporter, you'll always get paid back. Didn't they understand that?

She called Boeing, asked for the PR department. She got an answering machine, some bitch reciting a fax number and saying questions should be faxed, and they would get back to her. Unbelievable, Jennifer thought. A major American corporation, and they didn't even answer the phone.

Irritably, she hung up. There was no point in waiting. If the Dallas incident involved a Boeing plane, she had no story.

No damn story.

She drummed her fingers on the desk, trying to decide what to do.

She called Norton back, saying she wanted to talk to someone in management, not PR. She was put through to the president's office, then was transferred to some woman named Singleton. "How can I help you?" the woman said. "I understand there's been a delay in European certification of the N-22. What's the problem with the plane?" Jennifer asked.

"No problem at all," Singleton said. "We've been flying the N-22 in this country for five years."

"Well, I've been hearing from sources that this is an unsafe aircraft," Jennifer said. "You had an engine flameout on the runway at Miami yesterday ..."

"Actually, we had a rotor burst. That's being investigated now." The woman was speaking smoothly, calmly, as if it was the most normal thing in the world for an engine to blow up.

- "rotor burst"!

"Uh-huh," Jennifer said. "I see. But if it's true your plane has no problems, why is the JAA withholding certification?"

The woman at the other end paused. "I can only give you background on this," she said. "Off the record."

She sounded unsettled, tense.

Good. Getting somewhere.

"There is no problem with the aircraft, Ms. Malone. The issue concerns powerplant. In this country, the plane flies with Pratt and Whitney engines. But the JAA is telling us that if we want to sell the plane in Europe, we're going to have to equip it with IAE engines."

"IAE?"

"A European consortium that makes engines. Like Airbus. A consortium."

"Uh-huh," Jennifer said

- IAE = consortium Europe

"Now allegedly," Singleton continued, "the JAA wants us to equip the aircraft with the IAE engine to meet European noise and emission standards, which are more stringent than those in the U.S. But the reality is we make airframes, not engines, and we believe the engine decision should be left up to the customer. We install the engine the customer asks for. If they want an IAE, we put an IAE on. If they want a Pratt and Whitney, we put Pratt and Whitney on. They want GE, we put GE on. That's the way it's always been in this business. The customer picks the engine. So we consider this an unwarranted regulatory intrusion by the JAA. We're happy to put on IAE engines, if Lufthansa or Sabena tells us to do it. But we don't think JAA should dictate the terms of market entry. In other words, the issue has nothing to do with airworthiness."

Listening, Jennifer frowned. "You're saying it's a regulatory dispute?"

"Exactly. This is a trading bloc issue. The JAA is trying to force us to use European engines. But if that's their goal, we think they should force it on the European airlines, not us."

- regulatory dispute!!!

"And why haven't they forced it on the Europeans?"

"You'd have to ask JAA. But frankly, I imagine they've already tried, and been told to go to hell. Aircraft are custom built to the carrier's specs. The operators choose the engines, the electronics packages, the interior configuration. It's their choice."

Jennifer was now doodling. She was listening to the tone of the woman's voice at the other end of the line, trying to sense the emotion. This woman sounded slightly bored, like a schoolteacher at the end of the day. Jennifer detected no tension, no hesitation, no hidden secrets.

Fuck, she thought No story.

She made one last try: she called the National Transportation Safety Board in Washington. She got put through to a man named Kenner in public affairs. "I'm calling about the JAA certification of the N-22." Kenner sounded surprised. "Well, you know, that's really not our area. You probably want to talk to someone at the FAA."

"Can you give me anything on background?" "Well, FAA aircraft certification is extremely rigorous and has served as the model for foreign regulatory bureaucracies. As long as I can remember, foreign agencies around the world have accepted FAA certification as sufficient. Now the JAA has broken that tradition, and I don't think it's any secret why. It's politics, Ms. Malone. The JAA wants the Americans to use European engines, so they're threatening to withhold certification. And, of course, Norton's about to make a sale of N-22s to China, and Airbus wants that sale."

"So the JAA is trashing the plane?"

"Well. They're certainly raising doubts."

"Legitimate doubts?"

"Not as far as I'm concerned. The N-22's a good plane. A proven plane. Airbus says they have a brand-new plane; Norton says they have a proven plane. The Chinese are probably going to take the proven product. It's also somewhat less expensive."

"But is the plane safe?"

"Oh, absolutely."

- NTSB says plane is safe.

Jennifer thanked him, and hung up. She sat back in her chair, and sighed. No story.

Nothing.

Period.

The end.

"Shit," she said.

She punched the intercom. "Deborah," she said. "About this aircraft thing - "

"Are you watching?" Deborah said, squealing.

"Watching what?"

"CNN. It's un-fucking-believable."

Jennifer grabbed her remote.

EL TORITO RESTAURANT

12:05 P.M.

The El Torito offered acceptable food at a reasonable price, and fifty-two kinds of beer; it was a local favorite of the engineers. The IRT members were all sitting at a center table in the main room, right off the bar. The waitress had taken their order and was leaving, when Kenny Burne said, "So, I hear Edgarton's got a few problems."

"Don't we all," Doug Doherty said, reaching for the chips and salsa.

"Marder hates him."

"So what?" Ron Smith said. "Marder hates everybody."

"Yeah but the thing is," Kenny said, "I keep hearing Marder is not going to - "

"Oh Jesus! Look!" Doug Doherty pointed across the room, toward the bar.

They all turned to stare at the television set mounted above the bar. The sound was down, but the image was unmistakable: the interior of a Norton widebody jet, as seen by a badly shaking video camera. Passengers were literally flying through the air, bouncing off luggage racks and wall panels, tumbling over the seats.

"Holy shit" Kenny said.

They got up from the table, ran into the bar shouting, "Sound! Turn up the sound!" The horrifying images continued.

By the time Casey got into the bar, the video segment had ended. The television now showed a thin man with a moustache, wearing a carefully cut blue suit which somehow suggested a uniform. She recognized Bradley King, an attorney who specialized in airline accidents.

"Well that figures," Burne said, "it's Sky King."

"I think this footage speaks for itself," Bradley King was saying. "My client, Mr. Song, provided it to us, and it vividly portrays the terrible ordeal passengers were subjected to on this doomed flight. This aircraft went into an unprovoked and uncontrolled dive - it came within five hundred feet of crashing in the Pacific Ocean!"

"What?" Kenny Burne said. "It did what!"

"As you know, I'm a pilot myself, and I can say with absolute conviction that what occurred is a result of well-known design flaws on the N-22 jet. Norton has known about these design flaws for years and has done nothing. Pilots, operators, and FAA specialists have all complained bitterly about the aircraft. I personally know pilots who refuse to fly the N-22 because it is so unsafe."

"Especially the ones on your payroll," Burne said.

On the television, King was saying, "Yet the Norton Aircraft Company has done nothing substantive to address these safety concerns. It's inexplicable, really, that they could know about these problems and do nothing. Given their criminal negligence, it was only a matter of time until a tragedy like this occurred. Now three people are dead, two passengers paralyzed, the copilot in a coma as we speak. All together, fifty-seven passengers required hospitalization. That's a disgrace to aviation."

"That sleazebag," Kenny Burne said. "He knows it's not true!"

But the television was showing the CNN tape again, this time in slow motion, the bodies spiraling through the air, alternately blurred and sharp. Watching it, Casey started to sweat. She felt dizzy and cold, her chest tight. The restaurant around her became dim, pale green. She dropped quickly to a bar stool, took a deep breath. Now the television showed a bearded man with a scholarly air, standing near one of the runways at LAX. Aircraft were taxiing in the background. She couldn't hear what the man was saying because the engineers around her were screaming at the image.

"You asshole!"

"Fuckface!"

"Weenyprick!"

"Lying dipshit!"

"Will you guys shut up?" she said. The bearded man on the screen was Frederick Barker, a former FAA official, no longer with the agency. Barker had testified in court against the company several times in recent years. The engineers all hated him.

Barker was saying, "Oh yes, I'm afraid there's no question about the problem." About what problem? she thought, but now the television cut back to the CNN studio in Atlanta, the female anchor in front of a photograph of the N-22. Beneath the photograph it said, UNSAFE? in huge red letters.

"Christ, do you believe that shit," Burne said. "Sky King and then that scumbag Barker. Don't they know Barker works for King?"

The television now showed a bombed-out building in the Middle East. Casey turned away, got off the bar stool, took a deep breath.

"Goddamn, I want a beer," Kenny Burne said. He headed back to the table. The others followed him, muttering about Fred Barker.

Casey picked up her purse, got her cell phone out, and called the office. "Norma," she said, "call CNN and get a copy of the tape they just ran on the N-22."

"I was just going out to - "

"Now," Casey said. "Do it right now."

NEWSLINE

3:06 P.M.

"Deborah!" Jennifer screamed, watching the tape. "Call CNN and get a copy of that Norton tape!" Jennifer watched, transfixed. Now they were running it again, this time in slow motion, six frames a second. And it held up! Fantastic!

She saw one poor bastard tumble through the air like a diver out of control, arms and legs flailing in all directions. The guy smashed into a seat, and his neck snapped, the body twisting, before he bounced up in the air again and hit the ceiling ... Incredible! His neck being broken, right on tape!

It was the greatest piece of tape she'd ever seen. And the sound! Fabulous! People screaming in pure terror - sounds you couldn't fake - people shouting in Chinese, which made it very exotic, and all these incredible crashing noises as people and bags and shit smashed into the walls and ceilings - Jesus!

It was fabulous tape! Unbelievable! And it went on for an eternity, forty-five seconds - and all of it good! Because even when the camera wobbled, when it streaked and blurred, that just added to it! You couldn't pay a cameraman to do that!

"Deborah!" she screamed. "Deborah!"

She was so excited her heart was pounding. She felt like she was going to jump out of her skin. She was dimly aware of the guy on camera now, some weasel lawyer, feeding the segment his opening arguments; it must be his tape. But she knew he would give it to Newsline, he'd want the exposure, which meant - they had a story! Fantastic! A little frill and build, and they were there!

Deborah came in, flushed, excited. Jennifer said, "Get me the clips on Norton Aircraft for the last five years. Do a Nexis search on the N-22, on a guy named Bradley King, and a guy named" - she looked back at the screen - "Frederick Barker. Download it all. I want it now!"

Twenty minutes later, she had the outlines of the story, and the background on the key figures. LA Times story from five years ago on the roll-out, certification, and maiden flight for the launch customer of the Norton N-22. Advanced avionics, advanced electronic control systems and autopilot, blah blah blah.

New York Times story on Bradley King, the controversial plaintiffs attorney, under fire for approaching the families of crash victims before they had been officially informed of their relatives' death by the airlines. Another LA Times story on Bradley King, settling a class-action suit after the Atlanta crash. Long Beach Independent Press-Telegram, Bradley King, "the King of Aviation Torts," censured by the Ohio bar for misconduct in contacting victims' families; King denies wrongdoing. New York Times story, has Bradley King gone too far?

LA Times story on "whistle-blower" Frederick Barker's controversial departure from the FAA. Barker, an outspoken critic, says he quit in dispute over the N-22. Supervisor says Barker was fired for leaking reports to media Barker sets up private practice as "aviation consultant."

Long Beach Independent Press-Telegram, Fred Barker launches crusade against Norton N-22, which he claims has a "history of unacceptable safety incidents." Orange County Telegraph-Star, Fred Barker's campaign to make airlines safe. Orange County Telegraph-Star, Barker accuses FAA of failing to clamp down on "unsafe Norton aircraft." Orange County Telegraph-Star, Barker key witness for Bradley King lawsuit, settled out of court.

Jennifer was beginning to see the shape that the story would take. Clearly they should stay away from the ambulance chaser, Bradley King. But Barker, a former FAA official, would be useful. He would probably also be able to criticize certification practices by the FAA.

And she noticed that Jack Rogers, the reporter for the Orange County Telegraph-Star, took a particularly critical view of Norton Aircraft. She noted several recent stories under Rogers's byline:

Orange County Telegraph-Star, Edgarton under pressure to make new sales for troubled company. Dissension among directors, top management. Doubts he will succeed.

Orange County Telegraph-Star, drug and gang activity on Norton twinjet assembly line.

Orange County Telegraph-Star, rumors of union trouble. Workers oppose the China sale, which they say will ruin the company.

Jennifer smiled.

Things were definitely looking up.

She called Jack Rogers at his newspaper. "I've been reading your pieces on Norton. They're excellent. I gather you think the company's got some problems."

"A lot of problems," Rogers said.

"You mean with the airplanes?"

"Well, yes, but they're also having union problems."

"What's that about?"

"It's not clear. But the plant's in turmoil, and management's not leading. The union's angry about the China sale. Thinks it shouldn't happen."

"Will you talk about this on camera?"

"Sure. I can't give you my sources, but I'll tell you what I know."

Of course he would, Jennifer thought. It was the dream of every print reporter to somehow get on television. The print guys all understood the real money came from appearing on the box. No matter how successful you were in print, you were nothing unless you could get on TV. Once you had name recognition from TV, you could migrate to the lucrative lecture circuit, getting five, ten thousand dollars just to speak at a lunch.

"I'll probably be out later in the week ... My office will contact you."

"Just tell me when," Rogers said.

She called Fred Barker in Los Angeles. He almost seemed to be expecting her call. "That's pretty dramatic videotape," she said.

"It's frightening," Barker said, "when an aircraft's slats deploy at nearly the speed of sound. That's what happened on the Transpacific flight. It's the ninth such incident since the aircraft entered service."

"The ninth?'

"Oh yes. This is nothing new, Ms. Malone. At least three other deaths are attributable to Norton's shoddy design, and yet the company has done nothing."

"You have a list?"

"Give me your fax number."

She stared at the list. It was a little too detailed for her taste, but still compelling:

Norton N-22 Slats Deployment Incidents

1. January 4,1992. Slats deployed at FL350, at .84 Mach. The flap/slat handle moved inadvertently.

2. April 2,1992. Slats deployed while the airplane was in cruise at .81 Mach. A clipboard reportedly fell on the flap/slat handle.

3. July 17,1992. Initially reported as severe turbulence; however it was later learned that the slats had extended as a result of inadvertent flap/slat handle movement. Five passenger injuries, three serious.

4. December 20,1992. Slats extended in cruise flight without movement of the flap/slat handle in cockpit. Two passenger injuries.

5. March 12,1993. Airplane entered a prestall buffet at .82 Mach. The slats were found to be extended and the handle was not in the up and locked position.

6. April 4,1993. First officer rested his arm on the flap/slat handle, moved the handle down, extending the slats. Several passenger injuries.

7. July 4,1993. Pilot reported the flap/slat handle moved and slats extended. Aircraft was in cruise flight at .81 Mach.

8. June 10,1994. The slats extended while the airplane was in cruise flight without movement of the flap/slat handle.

She picked up the phone and called Barker back. "Will you talk about these incidents on camera?"

"I've testified in court about this on numerous occasions," Barker said. "I'll be happy to speak to you on the record. The fact is, I want this airplane fixed before more people die. And nobody has been willing to do it - not the company, and not the FAA. It's a disgrace."

"But how can you be so sure this flight was a slats accident?"

"I have a source inside Norton," Barker said. "A disgruntled employee who is tired of all the lying. My source tells me it is slats, and the company is covering up."

Jennifer got off the phone with Barker, and pushed the intercom button. "Deborah!" she screamed. "Get me Travel!"

Jennifer closed the door to her office, and sat quietly. She knew she had a story.

A fabulous story.

The question now was: What's the angle? How do you frame it?

On a show like Newsline, the frame was all-important. Older producers on the show talked about "context," which to them meant putting the story in a larger setting. Indicating what the story meant, by reporting what had happened before, or reporting similar things that had occurred. The older guys thought context so important, they seemed to regard it as a kind of moral or ethical obligation.

Jennifer disagreed. Because when you cut out all the sanctimonious bullshit, context was just spin, a way of pumping the story - and not a very useful way, because context meant referring to the past

Jennifer had no interest in the past; she was one of the new generation that understood that gripping television was now, events happening now, a flow of images in a perpetual unending electronic present. Context by its very nature required something more than now, and her interest did not go beyond now. Nor, she thought, did anyone else's. The past was dead and gone. Who cared what you ate yesterday? What you did yesterday? What was immediate and compelling was now.

And television at its best was now.

So a good frame had nothing to do with the past. Fred Barker's damning list of prior incidents was actually a problem, because it drew attention to the fading, boring past. She'd have to find a way around it - give it a mention and go on.

What she was looking for was a way to shape the story so that it unfolded now, in a pattern that the viewer could follow. The best frames engaged the viewer by presenting the story as a conflict between good and bad, a morality story. Because the audience got that. If you framed a story that way, you got instant acceptance. You were speaking their language.

But because the story also had to unfold quickly, this morality tale had to hang from a series of hooks that did not need to be explained. Things the audience already knew to be true. They already knew big corporations were corrupt, their leaders greedy sexist pigs. You didn't have to prove that; you just had to mention it. They already knew that government bureaucracies were inept and lazy. You didn't have to prove that, either. And they already knew that products were cynically manufactured with no concern for consumer safety.

From such agreed-upon elements, she must construct her morality story.

A fast-moving morality story, happening now.

Of course, there was still another requirement for the frame. Before anything else, she must sell the segment to Dick Shenk. She had to come up with an angle that would appeal to Shenk, that would fit his view of the world. And that was no easy matter: Shenk was more sophisticated than the audience. More difficult to please.

Within the Newsline offices Shenk was known as the Critic, for the harsh way he shot down proposed segments. Walking around the office, Shenk adopted an affable air, playing the grand old man. But all that changed when he listened to a proposal. Then he became dangerous. Dick Shenk was well educated and smart - very smart - and he could be charming when he wanted to. But at bottom he was mean. He had grown meaner with age, cultivating his nasty streak, regarding it as a key to his success.

Now she was going to take a proposal in to him. She knew Shenk would want a story badly. But he would also be angry about Pacino, angry about Marty, and his anger could quickly turn against Jennifer, and her proposed segment.

To avoid his anger, to sell him this segment, she would have to proceed carefully. She would have to fashion the story into a shape that, more than anything else, gave vent to Dick Shenk's hostility and anger, and turned it in a useful direction. She reached for a notepad, and began to sketch the outlines of what she would say.

ADMINISTRATION

1:04 P.M.

Casey got into the elevator in Administration, Richman following her. "I don't understand," he said. "Why is everybody so angry with King?"

"Because he's lying," Casey said. "He knows the aircraft didn't come within five hundred feet of the Pacific Ocean. Everybody'd be dead if it did. The incident happened at thirty-seven thousand feet. At most the aircraft dropped three or four thousand feet. That's bad enough."

"So? He's getting attention. Making the case for his client He knows what he's doing."

"Yes, he does."

"Hasn't Norton settled out of court with him in the past?"

"Three times," she said.

Richman shrugged. "If you have a strong case, take him to trial."

"Yes," Casey said. "But trials are very expensive, and the publicity doesn't do us any good. It's cheaper to settle, and just add the cost of his greenmail to the price of our aircraft. The carriers pay that price, and pass it on to the customer. So in the end, every airline passenger pays a few dollars extra for their ticket, in a hidden tax. The litigation tax. The Bradley King tax. That's how it works in the real world."

The doors opened, and they came out on the fourth floor. She hurried down the corridor toward her department.

"Where are we going now?' Richman said. 'To get something important mat I forgot all about." She looked at him. "And you did, too."