Chapter 48

           

           BBCjournalistGuntherGlicksatsweatingintheBBCnetworkvanparkedontheeasternedgeofSt.Peter’sSquareandcursedhisassignmenteditor.AlthoughGlick’sfirstmonthlyreviewhadcomebackfilledwithsuperlatives—resourceful,sharp,dependable—herehewasinVaticanCityon"Pope-Watch."HeremindedhimselfthatreportingfortheBBCcarriedahellofalotmorecredibilitythanfabricatingfodderfortheBritishTattler,butstill,thiswasnothisideaofreporting.

           Glick’sassignmentwassimple.Insultinglysimple.Hewastositherewaitingforabunchofoldfartstoelecttheirnextchiefoldfart,thenhewastostepoutsideandrecordafifteen-second"live"spotwiththeVaticanasabackdrop.

           Brilliant.

           Glickcouldn’tbelievetheBBCstillsentreportersintothefieldtocoverthisschlock.Youdon’tseetheAmericannetworksheretonight.Hellno!Thatwasbecausethebigboysdiditright.TheywatchedCNN,synopsizedit,andthenfilmedtheir"live"reportinfrontofabluescreen,superimposingstockvideoforarealisticbackdrop.MSNBCevenusedin-studiowindandrainmachinestogivethaton-the-sceneauthenticity.Viewersdidn’twanttruthanymore;theywantedentertainment.

           Glickgazedoutthroughthewindshieldandfeltmoreandmoredepressedbytheminute.TheimperialmountainofVaticanCityrosebeforehimasadismalreminderofwhatmencouldaccomplishwhentheyputtheirmindstoit.

           "WhathaveIaccomplishedinmylife?"hewonderedaloud."Nothing."

           "Sogiveup,"awoman’svoicesaidfrombehindhim.

           Glickjumped.Hehadalmostforgottenhewasnotalone.

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