"That will do. I need a comment before I go to print." Scott commanded an assurance that the aide was not used to hearing from the press.
"Wait one moment please," the aide said. A few seconds of Muzak on hold bored Scott before Senator Merrill Rickfield picked up the call. He was belligerent.
"What the hell is this about?" The senator demanded.
"Is that for the record?" Scott calmly asked.
"Is what for the record? Who the hell is this? You can't intim- idate me. I am a United States Senator." The self assurance gave away nervousness.
"I mean no disrespect, Senator. I am working on an article about political compromise. Very simple. I have information that you and General Young, shall we say, have . . .an understanding. As a member of the Senate Intelligence Committee, you have helped pass legislation that gave you both what you wanted. General Young got his weapons and you have a substantial bank account in Geneva. Comments, Senator?"
Rickfield was beside himself but was forced to maintain a formal composure. "Sir. You have made some serious accusations, slan- derous at least, criminal I suspect. I hope you are prepared to back up these preposterous claims." Scott heard desperation in the Senator's voice.
"Yessir, I am. I go to print, with or without your comments,"
Scott lied. A prolonged pause followed. The first person who
spoke lost, so Scott busied himself with a crossword puzzle until
Rickfield spoke.
"If you publish these absurdities, I will sue you and your paper right into bankruptcy. Do you copy?"
"I copy , Senator. Is that for attribution?" Scott knew that would piss off Rickfield. The line went dead.