Edge of Apocalypse
received regarding the nukes coming toward New York City.
    Then Gallagher started into the details of that day. The time Ivan got to the studio that afternoon. The time he first learned about the missiles. And more importantly, how he found out about them.
    "A telephone call," Ivan said. "It was from some woman."
    "Who?"
    "She said her first name...like I was supposed to know her or something, which I didn't. Can't recall her name now. I think I blanked it out of my head 'cuz of what she said next."
    "Which was?"
    "She started talking really intense at me, but not loud, sort of whispering like she didn't want anyone else to hear, and she said, 'Get out of New York now'...or if I couldn't do that then I was supposed to head for the basement. That there were two North Korean missiles heading for Manhattan. Then she hung up."
    "You went on the air with the fact that New York was under nuclear attack based on a phone call from some woman you didn't know?"
    "'Course not. What, do I look stupid to you? Naw, we then put a call in to a Pentagon contact. He sounded a tad nervous and refused to comment. We made one more phone call, to the woman at the local emergency preparedness office. I posed as an NYPD officer and acted like I knew what was going on...she spilled the beans in two seconds flat."
    "Which phone were you at when you got the original call about incoming missiles?"
    "The call came directly into the studio line," Ivan said pointing to the phone on his desk.
    "Is that the same telephone number the public uses to call into your program?"
    "Naw. The public line's a different number. We use this one in the studio for internal stuff. We have our program guests call this number. Also, our tech guys call on that line."
    "Do you have any kind of electronic log or caller-ID on that line?"
    "Nope. Only on the public line."
    "But your tech staff, and any special guests on your show, someone you're going to interview on-air, they would have this studio number?"
    "Yeah."
    "I'd like to see a list of all your guests for the last twelve months," Gallagher requested from the other side of the camera. "And all your tech people. Anybody with access to that number. Let's start there."
    "Are you nuts?" Ivan blurted out. He was now sitting perfectly erect in his chair, as if he'd just received a low-voltage electrical charge.
    "That's confidential information," Ivan said. "We got rights. My lawyer says we got a journalist's privilege not to disclose information to people like you."
    "Tell your lawyer to go back to law school, Ivan," Gallagher fired back. "The guest list is public information because you've already aired it. And probably put it up on your website. Besides, I could get it from the FCC or from your public file. Do you really want to play the legal game with me? I can have you served with a subpoena to appear before a grand jury. Then you can be forced to testify. Unless you want to claim your Fifth Amendment right, that is. So, do you want to claim your right to remain silent because you might incriminate yourself, Ivan? You feeling guilty about the deaths of those New Yorkers who were killed in the melee that happened because you opened your big mouth on the air without talking to us first?"
    Ivan exploded. "I don't believe this! You saying I'm a murderer?" The shock jock was now on his feet swearing and screaming at his interrogator and putting his fists to the side of his head like he was doing some kind of bizarre ritual dance.
    But Gallagher kept rolling. "Now you don't have to answer my questions. Call your lawyer. We can stop right now. You have that right, Ivan. In the meantime, I'll talk to my lawyers. Only difference is that my federal attorneys have the power to put people in prison. Your attorney, on the other hand, only has the power to send you and your radio station a bill in an amount close to the budget of a small country. So, you wanna rumble? Bring it on..."
    Ivan kept on sputtering. What the video was not

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