Chapter 20: Live News Feed

"Charlie, I've got a hot tip, but it's gonna cost ya!"

The voice on the other end was skeptical: "What! Somebody ran over another moose down there? Or was it a two-headed moose born in the mayor's back yard, again? George, I wish you'd stop wasting my time..."

"Shut up, Charlie, or I'll call Kamloops! It's a lot farther away, but when they hear what just happened down here, why, I bet they'll charter a flight. And they won't be raggin' on me about no two-headed moose, neither!"

"Okay, Charlie. You've got two minutes. What've you got for me.

Charlie Withers was an occasional reporter for the Penticton Herald. He'd retired a few years earlier but still kept his hand in, doing an occasional feature story or special assignment. He also kept his eyes open for hot news tips that he could pass on to his friend in Kelowna, 80 kilometers north. Charlie Roberts was news director for KHBC-News, the regional television station.

George Roberts and his crew scrambled out of their Suburban at the Rock Creek junction of Hwy 33 and Hwy 3. They were met by Charlie Withers in his 4WD extended cab pickup. They shook hands all around.

"How long's it gonna take us to get to an overlook where we've got a good shot of the border crossing? How much daylight do you figure we'll have left?" Charlie asked.

"I'd say no more than forty-five minutes to get there, and at least an hour of good daylight."

"So where is this place we're going?"

"A good friend of mine ... an old fishing buddy ... has a cabin on the hillside overlooking Myers Creek. He bought the hillside acreage from the ranch owner whose hay fields run along the creek, right to the border. My friend's place sits about a hundred and fifty feet up, overlooking the field.

"There's a little jeep track runs from his cabin around the brow of the hill. When we get there, you won't believe it. It's only three hundred yards to see everything down below, according to my satellite view. The old man with the survivors said it happened right at the border. Some of them were already across when they got strafed and two of their vehicles blew up."

"Oh, for the love of all... !" George swore, softly. "Get that camera set up and running, now! Holy ... look at that! Charlie, you old bastard! I'm gonna owe you a whole new boat and motor for this!

"Damn, what I wouldn't give for a satellite uplink!"

George, Charlie and the crew were looking down at a cluster of vehicles on the south side of the border. Charlie had brought his binoculars; George's cameraman had a long-lens view of the scene through his camera. They could read the markings on the side of the tan and brown Okanogan County Sheriff Department rigs. Several other pickups and SUV vehicles were unmarked, but were parked alongside the county rigs.

They were surrounded by at least a dozen black vehicles, with white U.S. Government license plates. A number of men in black suits, and others in tan slacks and blue windbreaker jackets, were in an obvious altercation with the county people.

"Bishop, are you getting this on camera?" George asked, softly.

"Hell yes! From this distance I can read their damned lips!" Bishop answered.

"Hey ... did we bring that other case, with the parabolic microphone?"

"We sure did! Hey, Jones, hike down to the pickup and bring that aluminium case with the red handle. Go easy ... they haven't seen us up here. Let's keep it that way."

George silently thanked his friend Charlie for parking the truck back at the cabin, only a few hundred yards behind them. Charlie wanted to walk the rough track to scout it before committing his pickup. They were damned glad they did. When they came around the hillside, they were shocked to see the vehicles and men in the area below. They made a quick jog back to the truck to retrieve their camera gear, with its tripod and batteries. The truck remained behind, out of sight.

"Spread the parabolic reflector back between those sage bushes, and aim it down at them. Try to keep it shaded so it won't reflect any of the sun's glare, but stay within the cable's reach of the camera," said Bishop, the producer-camera man, instructing his helper, Jones.

"George, you won't believe it! We've got an armed stand-off happening, down there! Here, take this set of headphones ... I'll plug it into the auxiliary socket. I want you to listen to this!"

For the next hour they crouched and sat in the scrub brush and grass on the hillside above the border, watching and recording the heated confrontation between the two American contingents.The federal group claimed authority to confiscate everything the county sheriff and his people had gathered from the scene. Men down there were armed, and several times violence nearly erupted when tempers flared to a breaking point.

"This is unbelievable!" George softly swore to Charlie. "You know that we're going to have to stay here, don't you? This bunch has got itself in an armed stand-off. I'd bet my job that they'll camp right there. This won't get settled anytime soon, unless they all shoot each other!"

"George, you're gonna owe me a whole lot more. I've got a key to my friend's cabin, and he's got a good stock of food. There's enough bunk space that we can take turns getting some sleep. I'm pretty sure you'll want to keep somebody here to monitor those people down there, right?"

"Damn straight, I do! But there's one thing ... does that cabin have electricity?"

"Ayup, it sure does."

"Charlie, if it weren't for that beard and your rotten breath, I'd kiss you!"

"You try that, and I'll knock you on your perverted ass, George! So ... am I to believe that you've got a couple of extra camera batteries, and a charger?"

"Yes, exactly," George replied. "It's just about dark enough now to pull the batteries that we've been running on, shove in a fresh set, and get these used batteries down to be recharged.

"Thinking about that, I'm gonna leave you and the guys alone for awhile. I'll take the tapes of what we have so far back to the station. They're not going to believe this! I'll grab a bunch more tapes, a spare camera, and some extra batteries ... just in case.

"I'll be back in ... probably no more than three hours. Can you think of anything else I should bring back, Charlie?"

"Nope. Oh ... the cell phone connection here is crap ... call my wife. Tell her I'm not at the bar, but I am gonna spend the night with some disreputable lay-abouts. And if you would, call the city editor at that rag I sometimes report for, and tell him again ... I told him earlier, but I don't think he took me seriously ... if he doesn't get a reporter and a photographer down here before daybreak, he'll be passing up a chance for a Pulitzer. And you might inform him that you sure as hell don't intend to share yours with him, when you win it for this story!"

It was a long, cold night, but the news crew rotated their watch every hour so all of them had long turns staying warm in the cabin. All of them got plenty of sleep, and before dawn they had eaten a hot flapjack breakfast, washed down with hot coffee ... or tea, as a few preferred.

George and Charlie were at the camera site when the first glow of dawn was seen in the east. Two men from the Penticton Herald newspaper joined them.

"Sheesh, Charlie! Do you think maybe we should have arranged for bleachers to be built up here? And we could sell tickets? This is bizarre!"