TekWar 01 TekWar by William Shatner; Ron Goulart

Author:William Shatner; Ron Goulart [Goulart, William Shatner; Ron]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781453286777
Publisher: Open Road Media
Published: 2012-10-12T20:28:00+00:00

20

THE BLACK MAN SEATED himself, uninvited, at the third chair at their table. Smiling, first at Beth, then at Jake, he removed a small recorder-mike from the inner breast pocket of his pale yellow jacket. Placing it in the exact middle of the tabletop, he activated it and said, “We’ve met before, Miss Kittridge. That was, if you don’t quite recall, when I interviewed your father two years ago at a reception at SoCal Tech. I’m Ogden Swires, with GLA Week, the leading faxzine on the West Coast. I’d—”

“Before we start the interview,” suggested Jake, reaching over to click off the recorder, “how about a little polite social discourse, Og?”

“Jake, hey, you’re interfering with my pursuit of a big story.”

“For instance, what the hell are you doing in Cuidado? It’s not part of Greater Los Angeles.”

The reporter moved his hand toward his recorder-mike, noticed Jake’s face and withdrew it. “I came down to do a story on Warbride, since our readers are avidly interested in what goes on across the border,” he replied. “I’ve been sitting on my toke for three days, old man, waiting for one of her public relations people to get back to me.”

“Public relations?” Jake laughed. “Sounds like she’s upgraded her operations quite a lot.”

Turning, slowly, to Beth, Swires inquired, “Is your father alive?”

Beth answered, “I haven’t as yet agreed to an interview, Mr. Swires.”

“GLA Week has a guaranteed circulation of four million, Miss Kittridge. You really shouldn’t ignore that sort of coverage or—”

“Were you hunting for us?” Jake asked him. “Is that how our paths happened to cross this morning?”

The reporter shook his head. “Old man, I had no idea you were in Mexico at all, nor was I aware that Miss Kittridge had been located.” He started to inch his left hand toward the small recorder. “But, as you well know, I really do seem to have a knack for nosing out news.”

“That’s interesting.” Jake grinned at him. “Miss Kittridge and I were just now discussing her knacks.”

“Listen, Jake, there are at least a dozen other newspeople in town, trying to insinuate themselves across the border into Chihuahua one way or another,” Swires told him. “Amongst them, old man, are a couple from GLA who aren’t anywhere near as sympathetic toward you as I am. You remember how I covered your trial, don’t you? I was on your side.”

“ ‘Jake Cardigan isn’t as big a scoundrel as he’s being painted,’ was one of your lines that’s stuck in my mind.”

“Christ, I was practically doing PR for you,” insisted Swires. “That wasn’t easy, believe me, considering who owns GLA Week and who they’re friendly with.”

Jake caught his arm. “What do you mean? I thought the Reisberson family controlled your faxzine.”

Swires nodded and pulled, cautiously, free. “They do, but they’re especially close to Bennett Sands—who also does a great deal of advertising with us.”

“And?”

“He put a lot of pressure on them back then, Jake. He charged that I was being much too favorable to you, insisted he was dead certain you were deeply involved in Tek running.

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