Chapter 34
CHAPTER 34
For a half hour the three of them are silent, except for the occasional, “Oh my God,” no one is saying anything as they read document after document.
Finally Peter stands up. “Anyone else feel like a glass of wine?” he says. “I need a little break.” Eric and Lizzie nod, and he is back in a minute with a bottle of Cabernet, and three glasses.
“How did you get all this?” Lizzie asks, a pile of papers in her lap.
“I’d had some experience with Gobel and Green years ago while I was working on another story for a paper in London, and when we met I reached out to a few people I knew, and that led me to this source, Gloria,” he pauses, taking a sip of wine. “A guy I know had heard about this incident at a nuclear power plant in Florida, and put me in touch with her.”
“How did she ever get all these documents?” Peter asks, “Do we know they’re legit?”
“She worked at Dunhill Energy, the nuclear power plant, for 23 years,” Eric says. “There were always protests within the community, people concerned over safety…”
“With due cause it sounds like,” Lizzie says.
“Yes, things seemed to have never been run well. Gloria was a shift supervisor and throughout her time there was often filing reports over shortcuts being taken, protocols not followed, etcetera, so she was relieved when it was decided to close the plant down and decommission it.”
“So how did Gobel and Green get involved?” Peter asks.
“They have never been short on bravado, and decided to throw their hat into the ring, with no experience, mind you, to decommission the plant,” Eric says. “From the get-go there were problems. They hired inexperienced people who cut corners and ignored NRC protocols and rules.”
“Wow, what could possibly go wrong? An inexperienced team of people with no regard for the law,” Lizzie asks, rolling her eyes “Where did all these documents come from? Gloria took them?”
“She did. She became very concerned when they began laying off more and more people, and she could see they were ignoring safety protocols when dealing with radioactive materials, acting like they were nothing. When she started to hear rumblings of what they planned to do with the stored water, dumping it into the Gulf of Mexico, she decided to risk everything and take action. She would go to work and when she was alone she made copies of everything she could get her hands on, a few pages at a time and snuck them out under her clothes. It was incredibly brave of her. I cannot imagine the courage that took. And now, to give me copies, it’s unbelievable,” he says.
“I’m curious, why you? Why now?” Peter asks.
“We have a mutual friend who vouched for me. She felt like she could trust me, and when she heard that they had shut down this project, something that was poised to help the community and the planet, she decided now was the time. It hasn’t been that long, this has all been going on very recently, and she’s been staying on the down-low for her own safety. She didn’t think they’d actually begun dumping the water, but all of a sudden dead sea fowl and fish have been washing ashore across the west coast of Florida, so she thinks they did it.” Eric says.
“Oh my God, this is just so abhorrent,” Lizzie says, trying to wrap her brain around such disregard for the life and safety of others. “Okay, so what comes first, the story or the lawsuit? Do we owe it to Jack and the Terra Marique team to let them know, or do we go full Watergate and print the story and let the cards fall where they may? I’m trying hard to be objective, which is impossible since it’s my fiance.”
“Peter, you’ve been a journalist a lot longer than me, what do you think? I have my thoughts, but I want to know what you think is the right thing to do,” Eric asks, looking a bit worried.
Peter sits back and looks at them both. Lizzie has never seen her dad look so serious. He then leans forward, elbow on knees. “I think we print the story and deal with the fallout from there. Gobel and Green will go after us of course. They’ll say we’re lying, then they’ll try to shut us down.” He’s quiet, and turns to Eric. “You are 100-percent sure everything she is saying is true?”
“Yes, sir, I am,” Eric replies. ‘I have seen the reports of the damage to the ecosystem, of people in the fishing industry reporting illnesses. It happened. And right before they did it they let everyone who had worked at Dunhill Energy go. They thought they covered all their tracks.”
“Okay, write your story, and we’ll back you,” he says. “You agree, partner?” he says, looking at Lizzie.
“Yes,” Lizzie says, “I back you too, Eric, one-hundred percent. It’s going to be hard to not tell Jack, but we have to do it. What about Gloria? Is she safe? Do we need to see if we can get her protection? These kinds of people will stop at nothing, I don’t want anything to happen to her.”
“My original sources are looking out for her. She’s been moved to a secure location with round-the-clock protection,” Eric says, finishing his glass of wine. When Peter offers him more he shakes his head. “Thanks, but after almost no sleep, the travel and stress I don’t dare have more than one and drive home.”
“Okay,” Peter says, and then asks the question Lizzie is wondering too. “How about your safety? Are you feeling okay going home, or would you feel better staying here?”
“Yeah, you’re welcome to stay with us. All we have for protection is a scrappy rescue dog, but you wouldn't be alone,” Lizzie says. She’s grown quite fond of Eric and doesn’t want him to be alone in his apartment. “We have a guest room, WiFi, food in the fridge, anything you need.”
Eric, who Lizzie estimates can’t be any older than 25, looks touched by their offer. “I’d hate to put you out in any way, are you sure? I am feeling pretty spent and wouldn’t mind not being alone and wondering about every noise I hear.”
Lizzie can see her father getting his emphatic dad face on, “Look, we think it would be a good idea for you to stay here with us and we would both sleep better knowing you’re not all alone.”
Eric actually looks a bit relieved, “If you’re sure,” he says.
“We’re sure,” Lizzie and Peter say in unison.
“I kind of wouldn’t mind the company,” he says. “I’ll be honest, the whole way back I was looking over my shoulder–at the airports, the parking lot. Heck, driving here I kept looking in my rear-view mirror to check if I was being followed.”
Peter stands up, “Then it’s settled, you can stay here tonight and for as long as you like. Are you sure we can’t give you anything to eat? I feel like a terrible host.”
“No, really, I’m good, all I need is a hot shower and some sleep, it’s been a long couple of days,” he says.
“Do you have a bag you need to get from your car?” Lizzie asks.
“Nope, I travel light, everything is in my backpack here,” he says, pulling it onto his lap. “Would you be insulted if I crashed? I suddenly feel completely exhausted.”
“Not at all,” Lizzie says. “I’ll take you upstairs.”
Lizzie is back in a few minutes having gotten Eric settled, gotten him some towels and even an old pair of Matt’s sweatpants and a T-shirt that were laundered and in the bureau.
“I told Mom that he’s staying over so she wouldn't be surprised to run into him in the hall,” Lizzie says, plopping herself down on the couch. “So how do we handle this? Do we put out a special issue? This weeks’ edition has already gone to the printer, and I don’t think we should hold on to this for a week. What do you think?”
“The only time I ever put out a special issue was right after 9/11 back in 2001. This does seem to warrant moving fast, though. I say let’s do it,” Peter says.
“Okay, so as soon as he gets the story to us, we will run a short issue with some context pieces from us to get people up to speed with what has transpired, the town’s history with Green and Gobel, and then the rest will be Eric’s story,” Lizzie says. “I sure hope Jack won’t feel like I was holding out on him. It feels weird to not share this with him, but we have to be so careful.”
“You’re doing exactly what you’re supposed to do, honey. You’re being a professional. There’s no other option. He’ll know soon enough, and so will his lawyers,” he says.
“”I know you’re right, it’s just so counterintuitive to how we are with each other, you know? We share everything.” Then she thinks about how she’s not being honest about the wedding, and feels like a liar. “Most everything.”
“I think we need to get to bed too. It's been a long day today, and I have a feeling the next few are going to be as well,” Peter says, getting up off the couch. He spreads out the ashes on the dwindling fire and closes the glass doors.
“I’ll be right up,” she says, “I promise.” Peter kisses her on the head, and he goes upstairs.
After he’s gone, Lizzie sits alone on the couch still trying to take in all that Eric shared with them, and wondering what the fallout will be for Jack, and also for them as a newspaper. She doubts that these people who are treacherous enough to spill toxic waste into the ocean care much for their fellow humans and shudders to think what they might do to retaliate. Also, for the first time she thinks about Billy and Bud, assuming they have no clue about the kind of people they have hitched their wagon of resentments to. “This is going to be a mess,” she says out loud. With what feels like the weight of the world on her, she pulls herself off the couch, turns out the lights and heads to bed. As she crawls under the covers she thinks about Jack and hopes he’s able to sleep, and can’t wait for them to finally begin their life together. Whenever that may be.