Chapter 23
The bombing in Aleppo had been going on at a distance most of the day. Linney and Ernst—he had arrived in the northern Syrian city just the day before her—had eaten dinner at the hotel restaurant after she filmed her standup, and then fallen into bed with each other.
While they lay together, they felt the rumblings getting more intense. Something had changed and their instincts kicked in. Ernst threw aside the covers and pulled on his pants and a khaki shirt. He grabbed one of his favourite cameras and slung it over his shoulder. Work was work, after all. Linney dressed quickly as well, knowing Hassan and Grant would be doing the same. She sat on the side of the bed, her heart pounding, as she tied her hair up on the top of her head—the heat and humidity in the city were oppressive—and then grabbed her laptop and phone. “I’ll go down and work in the bar with the others,” she told him. Whether you were drinking coffee, tea, soft drinks, or liquor, the hotel bar had become a central meeting point to trade information and to get away from some of the horrors they saw. “Please be careful out there.”
Ernst leaned down and kissed her tenderly. “See you soon.” He grabbed his camera bag and headed out to take more of his award-winning photographs.
Linney sat down at a small table alone, wanting to work rather than socialize. She texted a source who would probably speak on camera and then waved at friends from Agence France-Press and another reporter she knew from Associated Press, who were drinking coffee together. Linney furrowed her brow and concentrated hard to put words down on the page for this story. They’d shoot her standup, and maybe an interview, when the guys returned but the more she could write now, the faster they could get it on the air.
Suddenly the bottles in the bar began clinking against each other and the hanging pendent lights swayed back and forth. The explosions were closer now. Linney was scared for the first time in her career and she wasn’t alone. Adrenaline wasn’t enough to combat it, and her heart thumped loudly in her chest as the journalists around her made macabre jokes trying to relieve the tension.
Linney pushed her glasses up her nose and shivered. She jumped when the room shook again. She looked at her watch. Where were Grant and Hassan? And Ernst. It had been too long. They should have been back by now. She glanced around, wondering if they should take cover somewhere else, and pulled out her phone to text her colleagues again. But before she could, there was a deafening noise and Linney was thrown across the room by a force she didn’t understand. Her head slammed into a wall and she slumped to the ground as debris fell heavily on top of her, pinning her down. The world went black.
* * *
Mac and MJsaw the first reports of the devastating bombing in Aleppo, and they both had to sit down. Mac had sent Linney and Grant there and knowing them, they’d be right in the middle of things. MJ tried Linney’s cell. Nothing. Mac couldn’t reach Grant either. He tried every contact he had and finally got through to someone. It sounded like chaos. Nobody knew anything.
The newsroom was solemn, knowing two of their own were unaccounted for. Finally, there was a shout. “Video from Grant!” Somehow their cameraman had found a satellite link and had uploaded what he had. They watched in silence, and MJ’s jaw trembled as she fought to stay composed. Mac grabbed the phone, dialling the number he knew by heart and this time, it went through.
“Grant, it’s Mac. You’re good?” Without waiting for an answer, he barrelled on. “I haven’t heard from Hassan or Linney. Do you know where they are?”
“Hassan is fine. He was with me. We were out shooting. But Linney? I left her in the … I have to go Mac. I’ll call you when I know something.” And the call dropped.
Mac ran his hands through his thinning hair. He jammed his arms into his jacket and barked at the staff. “I’ll be back.” MJ jumped at the tone of his voice, but she still couldn’t tear her eyes away from the video feed.
* * *
Linney moaned.She felt pain so excruciating she couldn’t decipher where it was from. Her head was throbbing, her hair was matted with blood, and she couldn’t move. She could taste concrete and dust and she could hear shouting. She blinked several times, but everything was a blur and the room was spinning. She felt a hand on her shoulder and thought she heard someone talking to her, but she couldn’t make out the words through the whooshing in her ears. She tried to take a deep breath to clear her head. There was a stabbing pain, and she fainted again.
* * *
Mac had been gone too long.MJ pulled herself together and looked around the newsroom. She was terrified for Linney, and she could only imagine how the news had affected him. As much as she didn’t want to get involved, she knew she needed to go and find him. And she had a pretty good idea where he’d be.
When MJ arrived at the pub, she saw Mac sitting at the bar beside another man. There was a glass of scotch in front of Mac and she wanted to scream. He was in charge now and she’d begrudgingly grown to respect him, despite his history with Linney, and he could not go down this rabbit hole. Then she realized his hands were in his lap.
“You gonna drink that, mate?” MJ heard the dishevelled man in a stained suit speak to Mac with a slurred voice. “You’ve been lookin’ at it for a long time.”
“I don’t know,” Mac muttered morosely, half to himself. It would be so easy. He took a deep breath and picked up the glass. The smell was like an old friend, enticing him, promising comfort. He put the glass down but kept staring at it.
MJ walked up beside him. “Mac!” she said sharply, trying to shock him back into the present.
“It’s all yours, pal.” Mac threw a ten-pound note on the bar and left the building with MJ. They didn’t speak, but his phone rang just as they reached the studio. He grabbed MJ’s arm to stop her and they stood outside as he answered curtly. “Just tell me.”
MJ could see relief on Mac’s face, but she still held her breath as he continued to listen to Grant, his phone to one ear and a finger in the other. The background noise must have been intense.
“So?” she asked quietly after he hung up. She needed to know before they went inside.
“She’s alive, but Grant said four are dead.” MJ blanched as he continued. “It sounds like chaos over there. They found Linney under some rubble inside the hotel. Broken bones for sure and he said there’s a bad head wound. They’re worried about internal injuries too. She’s being airlifted with some others to Germany now.”
“Did he talk to her?”
“He tried, but he wasn’t sure she heard him. He said she whispered Derek’s name.”
“You need to call him.” MJ knew that wouldn’t be an easy call.
Mac’s shoulders drooped. “Yeah, I know.”
Together, they entered the busy newsroom. All professionals, the TCN team had temporarily put their personal feelings and fears aside and were busy reporting the news. MJ went to her desk and Mac climbed up the stairs, never happier for the design of the newsroom that would let him be able to speak from there. He felt eyes following him. “Can I get everyone’s attention,” he yelled over the din. Instant quiet. They had all been waiting for news.
“She’s alive,” he said sombrely, and the tension in the newsroom went down a few notches. He went on to tell them what he knew. And then, in a moment of humility, he added, “I know a lot of you saw me leave. I know what you thought, and yes, I went to the pub and ordered a scotch. But if there’s any good news today, it’s that I didn’t drink it. Now back to work.” Mac turned and walked into his office and closed the door. Now that the worst was over, he started to shake.
MJ gave him a few minutes and then slipped into his office. “You walked away from that drink,” she said and he nodded. “Mac, that’s a big deal. You should take a moment to recognize that was a huge win today. I’m proud of you. She would be too. Bravo”
Mac gave MJ a tired smile and then she slipped out as quickly as she’d come in. Now was not the time for self-congratulation.
* * *
Derek’s cellphone was ringing as he pulled the keys out of the door to his Silver Lake law office. He glanced at the unfamiliar UK number.
“Derek Blake speaking,” he answered formally, putting down his briefcase and starting to shrug out of his coat.
“Derek. It’s Finlay MacGregor, calling from London. People call me Mac. We’ve never spoken before an you probably think the worst of me, but don’t hang up. I have some news about Linney.”
Derek felt the blood drain out of his head and he lowered himself shakily into an armchair. He’d been planning to call her in just a couple of hours.
“What’s happened?” he said sombrely. “Is she okay?” All he could think of was the argument they’d had and how they hadn’t talked to each other since then. What if … no, he couldn’t go there.
Mac interrupted his thoughts. “Derek, I don’t know if you’ve seen the news yet, but there was an incident in Aleppo. Four journalists were killed. Linney was there but the good news is that she’s alive. I just heard from her colleague on the ground. Grant.” He figured Derek might know her cameraman by name. “But she’s hurt. They’re taking her and some others to Germany. I don’t know a lot yet, but she’s one lucky woman. I’ll call you when I know more. Can you tell her family? I have to go. I’m sorry.” And with that, Mac abruptly hung up.
Derek was still sitting in the waiting room holding his phone when Janet arrived several minutes later. A million things had been running through his head.
“Everything alright, boss?” she asked, jokingly. When he didn’t reply she tried again. “Derek?”
“Linney’s hurt. I need to call Jake.” He got up and went into his office and made one of the hardest phone calls he’d ever had to make. He promised to connect him with Mac later. Derek didn’t mind passing on information in the early stages, but he knew Jake would feel better getting it firsthand. And as busy as Mac was, he owed it to Linney’s family. Derek briefly considered booking a flight, but he didn’t know where in Germany she would be, or how long she’d be there. And he didn’t have his mother to fall back on for overnight care, although Danny and Anna would probably step in. The clock moved infuriatingly slowly as Derek waited for Mac to call him back. Janet quietly cancelled his meetings, and he checked news site after news site on his computer. Not much work got done that morning.
Five long hours later, his phone rang again. “Please give me some good news,” Derek said.
“Are you sitting down?” Mac was more composed this time and relayed what he knew. “She’s probably got a concussion in addition to some fractured ribs and a shattered hip. Recovery will be tough and she’ll need physio, but she’s going to be fine. That’s really all I know still.”
When Derek couldn’t find words to reply, Mac continued. “Listen, Linney’s told me how close you two are. I know you’re going to want to get on a plane, but it’s better if you stay put for now. I’m at the airport now and I’ll let you know how things are. Then you can decide.”
Derek heard him sigh deeply, and an announcement over the PA system interrupted them momentarily. “I sent her there, so I owe her that. You should be able to call her by tomorrow morning your time. I don’t know how long they’ll keep her but we should know more by then. And Derek? She’s going to need someone to talk to. On top of her physical injuries, she lost a good friend over there. Plane’s boarding. I have to go.”
Derek sank into his office chair as he hung up with Mac, trying to process it all. Linney had been his best friend since childhood. The argument they’d had was so stupid. He owed it to Linney to be there for her now, just like she had been there for him.