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angry voices. They were sitting at the aft end of the cabin. She turned her head to hear more clearly what Ryerson was saying now. "This is kidnapping, plain and simple. I'll see you pay for it, Morgan." |
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"I'm taking you to the chaplain for a TS ticket. Tell him," Morgan said. |
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"I intend to tell everybody, everybody in the world. Vincent Kellner isn't God, you know." Ryerson's voice trembled with outrage. |
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"And you're not Walter Lippmann," Morgan said. "If I hadn't dragged you aboard by the scruff of the neck, you'd have given a year's pay to be where you are right now. With a little luck, on your own, you can get Anna Neville blown away while you watch. Think what a story that will make." |
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Ryerson, aggrieved, said, "You bastard, Morgan. I don't want to hurt her. I'm on her side." |
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"You're on no one's side but your own." |
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"Jesus, what sort of man do you think I am?" Ryerson protested. "I'm only doing my job." |
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"You don't want to know what I think," Morgan said, and left his seat for the cockpit. |
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Ryerson got up and made his way up the aisle to take the seat across from Anna. "Did you hear all that, Mrs. Neville? I want you to be a witness. Colonel Morgan seems never to have heard of the United States Constitution." He took a notebook out of his pocket and scribbled something in it. |
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Anna made no reply. Joe Ryerson sounded exactly like Jake. The blame was always on the other side, never a result of his own actions. She rested her head against the seat, too weary to answer. The Cessna twin was still climbing steeply. The sprawling lights of the Bay Area faded into the rainy night. Then those lights were totally snuffed out, and the airplane was in darkness. Through the rain-streaked window, Anna could see the reflections of the navigation strobes on the heavy could through which they were flying. |
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When she sat in silence for several minutes, still looking |
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