My turn to snort and shake my head. "Obviously, you don't know shit about his finances. I happen to know that he has gambling debts out his butt. Atlantic City now owns more of his property than he does. And he's got a son in rehab. All that gets expensive. He'll be staying around for awhile." I shrug, change lanes, pulling around some little old lady doing ten miles an hour. "Besides, word on the street has it that Hathaway is a shoo in for the job."

"Hathaway? I think not. He's an idiot."

"Emphasis on 'he', Kels."

She bristles, "Don't call me that."

I ignore her, liking the nickname I overheard Erik use and, more than that, enjoying her reaction to it. "No woman has ever anchored the network news on a nightly basis. Only one co-anchored and where the hell is Connie Chung nowadays? Barbara Walters, Diane Sawyer, Lesley Stahl, they all do news magazines. Besides, you're too young. What are you thirty-five?"

She looks aghast, that I would think her that old. "Thirty-two."

"My point exactly. You gotta have some credibility. You sure they didn't promise you the NY nightly news? Not network?"

"I'm not even going to dignify that with a response." She fidgets in the seat, angry beyond all reason at me. "And who the hell are you to act as my career counselor? You're trash TV, the lowest rung on the television evolutionary scale. God, you've barely climbed out of the primordial ooze."

"Yeah, well, when the rest of the higher life forms die off, the only thing that's gonna survive are single-celled organisms like myself. And cockroaches, because they’re indestructible." We're passing Sixth Street and I make a decision, turning left onto Fifth at the next light. "Hey, Jimmy, guess where we're near!"

The orange-haired Korean, who's been watching our interchange like someone at a Ping-Pong tournament, smiles. "Dirty water dog?"

"Yup!"

For the first time since leaving the station, Jimmy doesn’t look like a frightened kid in the back. He bounds forward and throws open the back door. He is at the hot dog vendor before I have even finished illegally double-parking in front of the LA Public Library, Main Branch.

"You want one?" I ask as I am about to hop out my side of the van.

Kelsey makes the same face as yesterday after she saw me with what's-her-name on my bike. "I think not. Those things are terrible for you."

"Haven't seemed to hurt me yet." I leave her to wait for us as I buy one of Mother Nature's most perfect gifts to mankind.

Jimmy is already starting on his second dog when I arrive at the cart. Whenever we're in downtown LA, our crew always stops by Old Vito's cart. Vito looks like the dogs he sells - wrinkled, red and long.

I am finishing squirting extra ketchup on my foot long when I hear Kelsey's voice in the background. I roll my eyes and share a smirk with Jimmy. I let her wait; I am busy.

"Harper! Jesus Christ, Joseph and Mary! Get over here!"

"I didn't know we brought so many people with us, eh, Olson?"

He grimaces and runs a fine boned hand through his orange hair. "I'm gonna dye it back. I gotta stop these Jimmy Olson jokes. It's hurting my career."

"Jims, you don't have a career yet. You've only been out of school two months."

"Harper! Goddammit!" Her voice is louder this time.

I turn around and shove the remainder of the dog in my mouth. I spread out my hands conveying the universal sign for 'what the fuck do you want?'.

"The scanner!"

Shit. Something's breaking loose. Suddenly, my feet find life again and I race back to the van. I get there in time to hear: "Gunshots fired in the LA Public Library, all available units respond."

We all swing our heads around to stare at the front doors to a major news event. "Jimmy!!" I lunge through the still open back door and grab my Betacam. I shove two extra batteries into my vest pockets. "Jims, let the station know what’s happening and that we’re on it!" I switch on my micro-cam and the Betacam. "How’s the feed?"

He is turning on the monitors in the van. "Receiving both."

"Let's go, Kels!"

"Where?" she asks, unbuckling her seat belt.

The question strikes me dumb for a long moment. Where? Where? "Inside, Kels. That's where the story is. Not out here. Out here is for desk jockeys and wannabe network anchors. Inside is where the reporters are." I know this will get her to do exactly what I want. Confident in her following, I race for the entryway, just in time for the flood of frightened people to nearly run over me when I arrive there.

I am grateful that I am tall and strong, because I am able to force my way inside without any injury or long delay. I stand in the impressive foyer, ignoring the architecture, the antiques and the chandelier. All I want is the psycho with the gun. I hope it's a psycho with a gun. Those guys pull down huge ratings. And, so far, we’ve got an exclusive. On my first day at the station. Chambers is gonna treat me like God from now on.

Another gunshot. Sounds like a rifle, but I can't really tell for sure. The acoustics in here are really messing me up. I am moving toward the sound when I realize someone is behind me. I spin around only to find Kelsey on my heels. "Let's go!"

The archway at the far end leads to the children's library. Oh damn. Not kids. I'd trade the highest ratings in the world to keep one kid safe. We are entering the hallway leading to the reading room when three more gunshots explode. The noise is deafening in the echoing room.

Kelsey looks like she might pass out at any moment.

As my hearing returns, I hear whimpering to my right. I bend down and approach the small girl I now see huddled in the corner. The girl's trying to make herself as small as possible; she doesn't want to be an easy target. "Hey there," I say softly, reaching out to the child. I lay my camera aside, knowing my micro-cam will pick up the shot for me.

The girl flinches away from me. Her large brown eyes peer out from beneath her arms to size me up. She looks from me to Kelsey and back again. Finally, she flings herself at my legs, clasping onto my calves with all her strength. I feel her tears seep through the cotton of my pants. I reach down a hand and rub her back. I hazard a guess based on her brown skin. "No te preocupes, estas bien." It's ok, I've got you.

She looks up, momentarily soothed.

"Ahora, necesito que estes bien callada." I need you to be very quiet now.

She nods. One small hand comes up to wipe away her tears.

"Eres una nina valiente. Como te llamas?" Such a brave girl. What's your name?

"Cristina."

"Que linda. Quedate con la amable rubia." How pretty. Stay with the nice blonde lady. Did I just call the Ice Bitch "nice"?

Cristina looks over again at Kelsey. "Ella tiene tanto miedo como yo."

She's right, of course. Kelsey looks as much, or even more frightened, as Cristina is. I wonder if it was such a good idea to bring the anchor into the midst of the story. "Lo esta, yo creo." She is, I think. "Donde esta el hombre?" Where's the man at?

Cristina points to the other room. "El esta en el cuarto grande, con todo los libros grandes."

He's in the reading room. Now for the million dollar question. "Cuantos revolves tiene el?" How many guns does he have? Of course, knowing that doesn't tell me how many rounds of ammunition he has. He can have a fucking arsenal and I won't know until I get in there.

She shrugs.

And now for the ten million dollar question: "Hay otro ninos alli dentro?" Are any other children in there? I already know the answer in my gut.

"Si. Mi clase todavia esta alli. . Yo iva para el bano cuando el comenzo disparando a la gente."

Ah, that explains it. She was using the bathroom while her class was in there. The shooting began and she hid as best she could. She probably started to go back in the reading room, heard the gunfire, and came out here instead.

Cristina fingers my vest shyly. "Es la policia?"

I chuckle. "No. Pero soy mejor que un policia." I'm better than a cop. I can bring the whole damn world on someone with just the right camera angle. Which is exactly what I’m going to do with this bastard. For Cristina. And all the other kids who get used and abused by adults with guns.

I stand up and guide the girl to Kelsey who is still looking faint. I take the blonde’s hand and put it around Cristina’s trembling fingers. The woman looks at me and I see true fear in those eyes. It’s the only emotion besides anger or hatred that I’ve seen in them. For a moment, I run through a gamut of emotions. On some level, I do feel sorry for her but I don’t have time for sympathy. I can’t coddle Ms. Silver Spoon, and exasperation is the feeling that wins out.

"Stay here with the girl."

Kelsey looks down as if seeing the child for the first time and nods dumbly.

Shouldering the camera, I move away.

For a long minute, I kneel by the threshold to the reading room. The massive doors leading to it slightly askew, wide enough for me and my camera to fit through without any trouble. I am plotting my entry when I feel something touch my lower back. With a start, I turn to see Kelsey close behind me, my shirt clutched in her hand. I tilt my head at her in question.

"It’s my job now," she whispers with growing confidence. The proud smile I feel creeping across my face is nearly big enough to split my cheeks.

"Good girl," I murmur, reaching back to pat her knee. "Where’s Cristina?"

With the hand not clenching my shirt, she points towards the entrance where I see an adult carrying Cristina out of the building to safety beyond. There are still a lot of people rushing out of the building. We’re the only two brave – or stupid – enough to be heading into the line of fire.

I nod, pat her knee again. It seems some of her wits have returned. Kids have a way of reminding people of priorities. I half turn, not enough to loosen her hold but enough to lean towards her and whisper in her ear. "Stay close to me. We’re gonna work this guy, try to bargain the kids’ freedom for some airtime. Okay?"

She nods.

"If it’s safe, we’ll put you in the shot with him, have you talking him down."

She flinches and I know she’s battling with the obvious rating ploy I’m describing to her. This is the moment I see how far she’ll go to make a point. Will she accept the fact she’s on board now or will she fight me all the way?

Slowly, Kelsey nods, her grip tightens.

I sigh with relief and glance down to the arm that disappears behind my back, tapping it. "You’re gonna ruin my shirt."

"I’ll buy you a new one," she responds, not willing to let me go. I smile. That’s okay. This isn’t what I would have wished for a first time. I like to break my virgins in gently; Kelsey won’t have that opportunity, unfortunately.

I enter the reading room, slinking along the floor, Kelsey glued tightly to me. We get inside but are still out of view, a bookshelf directly in front of us. I’m adjusting the sound on the camera because I can hear frantic murmuring beyond the books and I’d love to be able to decipher it later. Assuming there is a later.

I feel a tap to my back, glancing back I see Kels point to a large circulation desk to our left. Good girl. The thick heavy semi-curved desk will offer us a hell of a lot more protection than the waist-high bookcase we’re hiding behind. I motion for her to move to it. She moves slowly and very quietly to get behind it. I back up with her as we take cover.

"Okay," she whispers through clenched teeth. "Now what? We’re in."

I reach into my vest pocket and hand her a clip-on mike and a power pack. Without any hesitation she accepts it into slightly trembling hands. She fastens the mike to her lapel, tucking the power pack away at the small of her back under her jacket. "Hold tight for just a sec," I whisper, as I begin to stand up. I want to get a quick sweep of the room to find out what I can see.

I raise up to do a quick pan of the room. In the back, I get a glimpse of the gunman. Focusing quickly, I realize he is distracted by the sound of the police response. The dumb son of a bitch doesn’t even realize that two other people have managed to get in here with him. He’s too busy staring out the window. Yeah, go ahead stupid, stand there long enough to let the snipers get a bead on you. As if he can hear my thoughts, he backs away from the window as his hands tighten on his weapon. I duck back down behind the desk to begin calculating in my own mind what I’ve just filmed. And what has most likely been projected to viewers of KNBC and the police outside.