Free Fall by Rick Mofina

Truth is, I need you to watch over him, to keep him from hurting us.”
    â€œI can’t do that!”
    â€œKate, I need you to do this, and break stories. We’re under tremendous pressure. You know the song. We’re losing subscribers. We’re getting beat on stories. We’re rushing down the river to irrelevance. From what I’ve learned, Sloane’s not a reporter, at least not the caliber we need to work here, and he’ll fail. Kate, I’m counting on you to prove your strength, like you did in Dallas, and like you did on your sister’s story. I need you to help me fix Newslead.”
    Kate weighed the stakes as Chuck glanced at the time.
    â€œBecause it’s you, I’ll do it,” she said. “But tell me, if you knew things were bad here, why did you come back?”
    â€œThe same reason you’ve stayed.” Chuck glanced at the framed photo of his wife, then at Kate. “We’ve each given everything to this organization and we don’t give up on the things we love and believe in.”
    Before Kate could react, a knock sounded at the door. Kate opened it to Sloane and Reeka, who thrust her phone at Chuck.
    â€œThe New York Times is now reporting that Flight Forty-nine Ninety encountered severe clear-air turbulence and the pilot disabled the plane’s safety features to deal with it and, in doing so, overreacted.”
    Adjusting his glasses, Chuck read the piece.
    â€œSee,” Sloane said. “It was turbulence, just as I’d first reported. Looks like pilot error, not mechanical, just like my story said.”
    â€œThey’re using unnamed sources,” Chuck said.
    â€œIt’s the Times , Chuck,” Reeka said. “I think everybody’s just been killed on this story.”
    â€œWe still don’t have officially sourced confirmation,” Chuck said. “Nobody does. Not yet. Sloane, did you check the FAA records and search court records?”
    â€œWorking on it.”
    â€œGood. Now, excuse us, if you’d give Kate and me a minute.”
    Reeka and Sloane left. Chuck loosened his tie more, then unknotted it and whipped it off.
    â€œDammit, Reeka’s right. The Times just kicked our asses. We’ve got to get on top of this story.”
    â€œI’ll do my best.”
    â€œWe’re going to need more than that, Kate.”

Ten
    Manhattan, New York
    K ate grabbed a strong coffee and ensconced herself at her desk, still reeling from the New York Times piece while grappling with Chuck’s expectations.
    It didn’t help that she could sense Sloane gloating.
    Kate shoved it all aside and knuckled down. She started with the key official organizations—texting, emailing and calling for reaction to the Times story and a chance to advance it.
    â€œWe don’t comment on speculative press articles. We’ll release a preliminary report in the coming days,” Paul Murther, the spokesperson with the NTSB, told her.
    EastCloud responded by sending Kate an updated news release which was light on actual news. The airline had noted what everyone already knew—that nearly all of Flight 4990’s passengers who had been taken to hospital had been released and that EastCloud continued to cooperate with investigators.
    Kate called Richlon, the plane’s manufacturer.
    â€œI can confirm that we are participating in the NTSB investigation. Other than that, we have no further comment,” Molly Raskin, Richlon’s deputy of public affairs, said from its Burbank, California, headquarters.
    The FAA declined to comment, and so did most of the other agencies and groups she’d contacted. While waiting for responses Kate, in keeping with Chuck’s request to be watchful of Sloane’s work, reviewed news photos for the plane’s registration information, known as the N-Number, then used that number to access FAA records on the specific aircraft’s history.
    No problems had