The Panic Zone Read Free Page B

sending help from New York.”
    Wilson looked at Gannon.
    â€œMelody here, Frank. Any claims of responsibility? Any thoughts on who’s behind the attack?”
    â€œ O Dia says it’s narco gangs from the favelas, but who knows. I have to go.”
    â€œKeep us posted, Frank.”
    George Wilson removed his glasses, rubbed his eyes and took stock of the other editors, stopping at Melody Lyon, who outranked them all.
    â€œJesus, Mel, I think we just lost two of our people. Did you alert Beland?”
    â€œHe’s in Washington. We told him when the unconfirmed reports first broke. I’ve been updating him.”
    A soft rap sounded at the door. “Excuse me, Melody?” The news assistant had returned.
    â€œYes, Rachel.”
    â€œMelissa’s left in a cab to the Brazilian Consulate to get Jack’s visa application processed. Our consular contacts expressed concern and agreed to expedite Jack’s application.”
    â€œThank you, Rachel.”
    â€œJack.” Lyon turned to Gannon. “There’s a TAM flight that leaves JFK in five hours. It’s direct to Rio de Janeiro, arrives 8:30 a.m. tomorrow.”
    â€œYou’re sending me to Brazil?”
    â€œWe need you to help our team there.”
    Gannon’s heart beat a little faster.
    â€œCertainly,” he said, “but you should know, I’ve never been there and I don’t speak Portuguese, or Spanish.”
    â€œLocal support staff will help you,” Lyon said. “Go home and pack.”
    A vein in George Wilson’s temple pulsed as his steel gray eyes locked on Gannon.
    â€œI want you to know,” Wilson said, “that I don’t think you’re the right person to send down there at this time.”
    â€œGeorge, please,” Lyon said, “we’ve been over this.”
    â€œMelody’s the boss, Gannon, and she believes your fresh eyes, as she calls them, could be an asset.”
    â€œI will do my best,” Gannon said.
    â€œYou’ll do as you’re told,” Wilson said. “You’ll take direction from New York and from my correspondents down there who have far more foreign-reporting experience than you ever saw at the Buffalo Sentinel, and you will stay out of the goddamned way.”
    That’s not what I do.
    Gannon looked to Lyon for support but she was pondering the Empire State Building, Manhattan’s skyline and her anguish. Everyone’s hurting now, he thought. Out of respect, he bit back on his words and absorbed Wilson’s misdirected insult.
    â€œI will do my best, George,” he repeated.

CHAPTER 4
    Rio de Janeiro, Brazil
    G annon’s jet landed at Galeão airport.
    As he walked through the terminal, the satellite phone the New York office had given him blinked with a message from George Wilson.
    * * *
    When you arrive go to the WPA Bureau, Rua de Riachuelo 250 in Centro. See Frank Archer.
    * * *
    Gannon collected his bag, got his passport stamped at customs and stepped into the equatorial humidity to find a taxi. The driver nodded after seeing the address Gannon showed him. As they drove down a southbound expressway, his satellite phone rang.
    â€œGannon.”
    â€œIt’s Melody in New York. Where are you?”
    â€œIn a taxi headed downtown.”
    â€œJack, last night—” she paused to clear her throat “—we got official confirmation. Gabriela and Marcelo were among those killed.”
    â€œI’m sorry.”
    â€œWe’re all reeling. Wilson’s taking this very hard.”
    â€œI understand.”
    â€œWe’ve suffered a huge loss. Bear that in mind when you’re dealing with everyone down there.”
    â€œI will.”
    â€œYou didn’t know Gabriela and Marcelo. Your thinking won’t be clouded with grief and anger. I need you to help us find out who is behind this attack on the café and why. We must own this story, Jack, no matter where it