Trail of Destruction

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Henry Worthington, the publisher of the Chicago Tribune, stood by his enormous picture window at the front of the Tribune Tower, gazing down at Michigan Avenue. He watched as a bus pulled up and a group of morning commuters began to disembark. He was too high up to see their expressions, but he could tell a lot from watching the way they moved. There were some who had jumped up from their seats and started racing for the exit, even before the bus had stopped. Most of those were carrying Starbucks cups, their caffeine jolt obviously doing its job. Others sat waiting for the crowd to disperse before pushing themselves up from their seats and wearily making their way down the aisle.

The buses were one way to get from the train stations located in the heart of the Loop to North Michigan Avenue. Henry occasionally commuted that way himself on days when he didn't want to deal with the traffic coming in from the suburbs. The good old days of having a chauffeured limo take him everywhere had ended when his newspaper, like every other one in the country, had started bleeding revenues as more people turned to the Internet for their news. With a sigh, Henry turned from the window and made his way to his desk. He reached for his phone and dialed the extension for the paper's political editor.

"Marty Glascow here," the voice bellowed.

"Good morning, Marty. Would you come see me please?"

"Sure thing, Henry. I'll be right there."

A few minutes later, the editor bounded into his boss's office. Henry could swear the temperature in the room rose by a couple of degrees, the man exuded so much energy. With a few quick strides, Marty covered the length of the office and took a seat in the guest chair, throwing his leg over the arm rest.

"Busy day in the trenches with Newcomb announcing yesterday," Marty said in lieu of a greeting.

Henry nodded. "That's exactly why I called you in here. The story's going to be big, and I want to make sure we capitalize on it. I want to throw an idea out at you."

Marty moved his leg off the arm rest and hunched forward in the chair. "I'm all ears."

"How about if we pull Ryan Newcomb off the general assignment desk and have him cover his brother's campaign full-time. I'm envisioning an in-depth, behind-the-scenes series of articles covering every detail of the campaign. I'd want him to use his family ties to negotiate full and exclusive access. Wherever Brad Newcomb goes, Ryan is right there with him."

Marty reached out and grabbed a Waterford crystal paperweight off Henry's desk, not noticing his boss wince as he began to casually toss it from one hand to the other. "You know I've wanted Ryan assigned to my desk ever since his brother became governor, but you've always told me that wasn't an option. What gives now?"

"I'm not sure it is an option. When we hired Ryan, he told us he had no interest in politics, and when his brother was elected alderman, he made it a point to reiterate his position. And he's done an excellent job for us, so I never wanted to push the issue. But this is different. A presidential campaign is a national story. We can market his involvement as an award-winning journalist who just so happens to be the candidate's brother and has unlimited access to all the inner workings of the campaign. And then I want to try to syndicate his articles to newspapers across the country. We've got a clear leg up here, and I want to exploit it."

"Don't you think we'll get some resistance in terms of objectivity?"

Henry shook his head. "We're not trying to pull a fast one. We're not hiding the relationship between the Newcombs. We're capitalizing on it. We can even highlight it in the title. We can call it 'A brother's point-of-view' or something like that. For that matter, we can even run the articles on the op-ed page."

"And you think other newspapers will pick up our stories?"

"It depends. Ryan has to be able to provide information that no other reporter has access to. And Brad Newcomb has to become a front-runner in the race, which I happen to think he will. That guy's got more charisma than Tom Cruise."

To Henry's relief, Marty reached forward and set the paperweight back on his boss's desk before leaning back in his chair. "All right, so when do we tell Ryan?"

Henry shook his head. "Well, first thing, we don't tell, we ask. And I want you to do that. You need to sell him on this idea. Push the fact that we think we can syndicate his articles. Give him a national presence. You know -- the whole big fish, big pond pitch."

Marty nodded, his fingers drumming a beat on the arm rest. "Don't worry. I'll get him to do it."

Henry raised his hands. "Let me make myself clear. I want you to do everything you can to convince Ryan this would be a great opportunity for him. But bottom line, if he doesn't want to do it, we back off. He's too valuable for us to risk alienating him. There are a hundred other papers out there that would kill to have him on their staff, so I don't want to do anything to risk losing him. Besides, if he's not enthusiastic about the idea, it's going to show. What makes Ryan so good is the passion he brings to every story he writes. If that's not there, there's no point to my suggestion."

Marty leapt from his chair. "Understood. I'll make this assignment sound so good, Ryan'll be begging me for it."