The Voice, by Paul Fitzgerald and Elizabeth Gould
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- 13 -
"He'll get nothing from me!" I said, spurring Juno toward
a hedge row some hundred yards in the distance almost as if
something inside me felt it could outrun the walls closing
in around me.
Alissa knew where my rage sprang from and if she didn't
support it, she at least accepted it as justified. For
years, her mother and I had made our living by combing the
world for controversial news stories and if we hadn't made a
lot of money, we had conquered some difficult assignments.
It had been an exciting and dangerous profession. But we
had survived-that was until we met up with Rick Kendall.
Kendall had gotten involved with our story on Afghanistan
and from that moment on our lives had come crashing down. In
my mind, I knew that Kendall wasn't entirely responsible,
that each given our priorities, something was bound to go
wrong. But it had been his callous, businesslike response to
the accidental death of my wife that had prompted my anger
and as time went on, I knew I'd never be able to forgive
"I know you blame him for what happened to Mom," Alissa
yelled as she raced up beside me in an attempt to reason
with me. "But that really wasn't his fault."
"He told us he'd back us Alissa. He told us to take the
risks needed to get the story he wanted and no matter what
he'd back us up. `Don't worry. I'm the one they'll crucify,'
he said. So we threw everything we had into it. This wasn't
just another story, Alissa. This was going to break bigger
than Watergate, bigger than Vietnam. And as soon as they
turned up the heat up on him, he ditched and left us to the
wolves. He's a coward and a liar, Alissa and he cost me my