Arthur Hailey - Evening News

Sloane beamed as he put aside the impressive royalty accounting.

”You deserve what's happened and I'm proud of you,” Jessica said.”Especially because it isn't like you to take chances in being controversial.” She paused.”Oh, by the way, your father phoned. He's arriving early tomorrow and would like to stay a week.”

Sloane grimaced.”That's pretty soon after the last time.”

"He's lonely and he's getting old. Maybe if you're that way someday you'll have a favorite daughter-in-law you'll want to be with.”

They both laughed, knowing how fond Angus Sloane was of Jessica and vice versa, and that in some ways the two were closer than the father and son.

Angus had been living alone in Florida since the death of Crawford's mother several years earlier.

”I enjoy having him around the house,” Jessica said.”So does Nicky.”

"Okay then, that's fine. But while Dad's here, try to use your great influence to stop him sounding off so much about honor, patriotism and all the rest.”

"I know what you mean. I'll do what I can.”

Behind the exchange was the fact that the elder Sloane could never quite let go of his World War 11 hero status—as an Army Air Forces lead bombardier who won a Silver Star and the Distinguished Flying Cross. After the war he had been a certified public accountant—not a spectacular career, though on retirement it provided him a reasonable pension and independence. But the military years continued to dominate Angus's thoughts.

While Crawford respected his father's war record, he knew the old man could be tedious when launched on one of his favorite themes—"the disappearance nowadays of integrity and moral values,” as he was apt to put it. Jessica, though, managed to let her father-in-law's preachments flow over her.

Talk between Sloane and Jessica continued over dinner, always a favorite time. Jessica had a maid come in daily but prepared dinner herself, managing to be organized so that she spent minimal time in the kitchen after her husband's arrival for the evening.

Sloane said thoughtfully, "I know what you meant back there, that it isn't like me to venture out on limbs. I guess, in my life, I haven't taken chances as often as I might. But I felt strongly about some things in the book. Still do.”

"The terrorism part?”

He nodded.”Since that was written I've done some thinking about how terrorism might, how it could, affect you and me. It's why I've taken some special precautions. Until now I haven't told you, but you ought to know.”

While Jessica regarded him curiously, he went on.”Have you ever thought that someone like me could be kidnapped, become a hostage?”

"I have when you've been overseas.”

He shook his head.”It could happen here. There's always a first and I, like some others on television, work in a goldfish bowl. If terrorists begin operating in the U.S.—and you know I believe they will, quite soon—people like me will be attractive bait because anything we do, or is done to us, gets noticed in a big way.”

"What about families? Could they be targets too?”

"That's highly unlikely. Terrorists would be after a name. Someone everybody knows.”

Jessica said uneasily, "You spoke of precautions. What kind?”

"The kind that would be effective after I'd been taken hostage—if it happened. I've worked it out with a lawyer I know, Sy Dreeland. He has all the details, and authority to make them public if and when that's needed.”

"I don't much like this conversation,” Jessica said.”You're making me nervous, and how can precautions be any good after something bad has already happened?”

"Before it happens,” he said, "I have to trust the network to provide some kind of security protection, and they do that now, more or less. But afterward, just as I said in the book, I wouldn't want any kind of ransom to be paid by anyone, including from our own money. So one thing I've done is make a solemn declaration—it's all in legal form—to that effect.”

"Are you telling me all our money would be tied up, frozen?”

He shook his head.”No. I couldn't do that, even if I wanted. Almost everything we have—this house, bank accounts, stocks, gold, foreign currencies—you and I own jointly and you could do whatever you wanted with them, just as you can now. But after that solemn declaration was made public and everybody knew the way I felt, I'd like to think you wouldn't go some other route.”

Jessica protested, "You'd rob me of the right to make a decision!”

He said gently, "No, dearest. I'd relieve you of a terrible responsibility and a dilemma.”

"But supposing the network were willing to pay a ransom?”

"I doubt they would be, but certainly not against my wishes which are on record in the book and repeated in the declaration.”

"You said the network is giving you some kind of security protection. It's the first I've heard of it. Just what kind?”

"When there are telephoned threats, or screwball letters which sound a certain way, or a rumor of some kind of possible attack—it happens at all networks and especially to anchor people—then private security men are called in. They hang around the CBA News Building, wherever I'm working, doing whatever security people are supposed to. It's happened with me a few times.”

"You've never told me.”

"No, I guess I never have,” he conceded.

”What else haven't you told me?” There was an edge to Jessica's voice, though clearly she had not made up her mind whether to be angry at the concealment or just anxious.

”Nothing else at the network, but there are some other things I've arranged with Dreeland.”

"Would it be too much to let me know about those too?”

"It's important that you know.” Sloane ignored the sarcasm which his wife sometimes resorted to when emotional.”When someone is kidnapped, no matter where in the world, nowadays it's a certainty they will make, or be compelled to make, videotape recordings. Then those recordings turn up, sometimes are played on television, but no one knows for sure whether they were voluntary or forced and, if forced, to what extent. But if there's a prearrangement of signals, someone who is taken hostage has a good chance of getting a message back that is clearly understood. Incidentally, more and more people who might one day be hostages are doing that, leaving instructions with their lawyers and establishing a signal code.”

"If this weren't so serious, it would sound like a spy novel,” Jessica said.”So what kind of signals have you arranged?”

"Licking my lips with my tongue, which is something anyone might do without its being noticed, would mean, 'I am doing this against my will. Do not believe anything I am saying.' Scratching or touching my right earlobe would mean, ' My captors are well organized and strongly armed.' Doing the same thing to my left earlobe would mean, ' Security here is sometimes lax. An attack from outside might succeed' There are some others, but we'll leave it for now. I don't want all this to distress you.”

"Well, it does distress me,” Jessica said. She wondered: Could it happen? Could Crawf be kidnapped and spirited away? It seemed unbelievable, but almost every day unbelievable things did happen.

”Apart from fear,” she said thoughtfully, "I have to admit some of this fascinates me, because it's a side of you I don't believe I've ever seen before. But I do wonder why you haven't taken that security course we talked about.”

It was an anti-terrorism course put on by a British company, Paladin Security, that had been featured on several American news programs. The course lasted a week, and in part was intended to prepare people for just the possibility Sloane had raised—how to behave as a victim in a hostage situation. Also taught was unarmed self defense—something Jessica had urged her husband to learn after a savage attack on the CBS anchorman Dan Rather on a New York street in 1986. The unprovoked attack by two unknown men had sent Rather to a hospital; the assailants were never found.