Pan Arabia News Channel, New York Tariq el Daher looked out over the hazy New York skyline while he tried to decide exactly how long he should keep the two FBI agents waiting. He checked his watch; it was a little after 11.30. Was twenty minutes enough to show them that he was in control and that things happened as and when he wanted them to? Or should he go for a full hour, to make sure that at least this government agency took Pan Arabia seriously in future and had the politeness to return its calls and treat it with the same respect they extended to the likes of Fox and CNN?
Tariq sent his PA to make him more coffee and asked her to tell the Feds that he was very busy and would do his best to fit them in as soon as possible. He drank the coffee while he finished reading the morning newspapers. He smiled to himself. Tomorrow, they would be full of quotes from him, and probably a photograph or two as well. He hoped they used the one taken a few years back at a press dinner when he had been presented with the special award for investigative journalism.
Tariq fully anticipated that all the news media, be it newspapers, TV or magazines, would steal screen shots of the girl from the video report he'd put together, so he'd already instructed Pan Arabia's lawyers to issue a legal copyright warning and circulate a range of digitally enhanced photographs that the press could use for free, providing of course they credited Pan Arabia. Yes, tomorrow all the hacks will be scavenging on his scoop, he was sure of that. He smiled once more, this time at the thought of them having to search for his long-forgotten phone number and wonder if he'd deign to speak to them. First though, he would have to put up with annoying meetings with the FBI and the NYPD. The tame cop he'd used to help stand up the story in the first place was now going crazy, claiming he'd been quoted out of context and threatening to bust Tariq's balls for getting him in so much trouble. Tariq wondered whether he'd also give him back the $500 he'd asked for in return for the interview. Somehow he thought not.
After forty minutes Tariq instructed his PA to show the agents through to the executive boardroom. Then he changed his mind. He decided instead that he'd see them, along with the company lawyer, in the smallest of all the ground-floor meeting rooms, the one usually reserved for junior reporters who were sent downstairs to get rid of potential time-wasters.
Ryan Jeffries from Legal met him in his office and they rode the elevator together. Fifty-year-old Jeffries had been round the block more times than a yellow cab and there wasn't anything about media law that he either didn't know, or couldn't find a way round.
'Good morning, officers,' said Tariq energetically as he pushed open the glass door to the cramped room. 'I'm Tariq el Daher and this is my Head of Legal Affairs, Ryan Jeffries. Sorry to have kept you waiting.'
Howie's first glance showed the obvious contempt that he had for both of them. 'Senior Supervisory Special Agent Howie Baumguard and Special Agent Angelita Fernandez.'
They all settled around a cheap wooden table that was so flimsy it almost buckled when Howie thudded his meaty arms down on it. Tariq sat back in his seat while Jeffries went in to bat. 'Mr el Daher and the channel have already made a statement to the New York Police Department, who we understand have operational control. We have delivered a copy of the material we uncovered and we will continue to assist the NYPD to the very best of our ability. Mr el Daher is, as you know, an extremely busy man and we do not think it necessary to waste his time with repetitive processes.'
Fernandez was curious to see how her boss was going to handle this. The bulging veins in his neck and the giant clenched fists hinted that he might be about to go Hulk green, shred his shirt and then pick up the lawyer and beat the smug bastard journalist to death with him.
'Okay,' said Howie, sounding surprisingly calm and quiet. 'Agent Fernandez and I are real sorry to have troubled you. We'll be on our way now, if that's all right with you?'
Jeffries smiled and slapped his hands on the table to help him rise from his seat.
'Sit down, mister,' said Fernandez. 'He's jerking your string. It ain't going to play like that.'
Howie's face displayed a cruel smile. 'I'm afraid the lady's right. Of course, we could just soak up that bullshit you came out with and leave. But if we did, then I'd only have to come back this afternoon with a court order to seize every computer and video machine in the place and then lock up our extremely busy Mr el Daher in a room even smaller than this crappy matchbox you've got us in.'
'Ridiculous! On what grounds?' spluttered Jeffries.
'Withholding evidence. Perverting the course of justice, impeding police investigations. We'll find the right one eventually,' said Fernandez.
'Meantime,' added Howie, making a point of picking dirt from under a fingernail, 'every press guy in the world is going to love the story we'll be putting out, about how your station is endangering the life of a young American woman. Run that one past your CEO, board of directors and financial backers and see how supportive they are of you then.'
'That's presuming your footage is for real,' added Fernandez. 'Because if we find out that it isn't, then a fan load of toxic shit is going to be heading your way, and we'll be fingering the power switch.'
Tariq leant forward and put a hand on the lawyer's arm to silence him. 'What do you want, Mr Baumguard?' he asked in a voice that was so laid back it almost sounded bored.
'Let's start with some civility,' said Howie. 'And right after that, you can begin at the beginning and go through that whole repetitive process of telling us how you came to have the footage in your possession.'
'And hey, Mr Lawyerman,' said Fernandez, 'while he does that, maybe you could get us a couple of coffees and some doughnuts. We missed breakfast this morning.'