In short order, he had found a site that was ideal. From a ledge on a ridge that was slightly higher than where Anna stood, Hablas would be able to capture, as background, the river below them, the southern ridge of the valley across the way, and the horizon while Anna was addressing the audience. When the time came for the asteroid to make its appearance, all Hablas need do was to tilt his camera up a bit and angle it slightly to his right. With luck, he informed Vandergraff, he would even be able to catch Anna as he tracked the course of the asteroid across the southern sky by zooming out at the right moment. "For a few seconds," he warned the female journalist, "you will be in the same frame as the fireball. So make sure you're wearing a suitable expression." Just what sort of expression would be appropriate for such an occasion was beyond Anna. But, trusting her instincts, she had no doubt that she would be able to make a good show of it when her moment came.
Following the practices normally adhered to when covering this sort of event, Vandergraff's team beamed a continuous feedback to their network's studio. There, a production manager synchronized reports and feeds being sent to him by a number of other teams located around the world. From his darkened control room in New York City, this production manager coordinated his teams, prompting them when he would be cutting to them and what he wanted each to address during their next on-air segment. In turn, the on camera member of each team was privy to both image and audio that were being put out over the air. This permitted them to chat with each other as if they were in the same room, or to pick up a train of thought that had been initiated by someone else on the other side of the globe.
Besides Vandergraff's team in Siberia and the program anchor in New York, there were a noted astronomer, a professor of geology, and a Nobel-winning physicist in the New York studio with the network's own science-and-technology correspondent. From her office in Pasadena, an astronomer who worked for NASA provided an official view of the event. Elsewhere, various reporters with assigned beats such as the Pentagon, the White House, the UN, and other seats of authority stood ready to chime in should any statements of note at their location be released. And, of course, no coverage of a major event would be complete without the ubiquitous "man-on-the-street" interviews. In the case of this network, there were correspondents on the streets in New York City, Los Angeles, London, Moscow, and Tokyo, as well as in an auditorium at a local university and a high-school science class.
Vandergraff followed all of this from the monitor that was part of his electronics gear. Though he understood that his team was but one of many, he also appreciated the fact that if the Fates were kind to him, they would be the undisputed center of attention not only during the event, but later as fellow media types in search of people to fill airtime scrambled to interview him and his intrepid little crew. Not only were they part of the handful of trained observers who had "been there," but they were fellow media types in a nation where news anchors had become cult heroes and celebrities.
From the small earpiece that fed him audio, Vandergraff heard the production manager's cue: "Cutting to Siberia in five."
Quickly turning, the producer pointed to Roberts, then held five fingers up, dropping one almost instantly as he began his countdown. "In four, three—" The last two counts were silent hand signals.
When the image of Anna Roberts flashed on the screen of the television sitting on the bar of the Red Devil's Pub, she was a picture of composure. "Do you suppose she'd look as calm as she does," an American Navy SEAL asked his buddies, "if she knew we'd be descending upon the spot she's standing on in a few hours?"
A ripple of laughter went through the room that had been, for the most part, quiet. Few of the Special Ops types who had been assembled in Scotland for Tempest found they were unable to stay away from the television or radio now that the moment was at hand. Even those who could were unable to remain in their sleeping bags during the appointed hour, opting instead to work off their nervous energy by running laps around the quiet runway despite the cold, predawn drizzle that swept the RAF base.
By way of response, a Dutch marine belonging to the Amfibisch Verkennings Peloton snickered. "If you were getting what she's paid to be there, you'd be smiling, too."
With a Scottish accent that almost defied comprehension, a Royal Marine of the SBS, sitting next to his Dutch counterpart, called for silence. "I've been listening to you lads for days now. I'd like a chance to hear what the lass has to say. We might learn something."
Unable to let this go by without comment, an SAS sergeant took a parting shot at the red-haired Scotsman. "The only thing you're interested in learning from her, James, is her phone number."
Though this last was followed by a few chuckles, most of the men assembled in the Red Devil's Pub were concentrating on what Anna Roberts was saying: "As you can see," she stated loudly in order to be heard over the cold Siberian wind that whipped past her open mike and caused the ends of her scarf to flutter about, "there's not a cloud in the sky. I'm told that even if the asteroid does not follow the exact course that NASA has projected, we'll be able to see it."
Cutting back to the studio, the image of an immaculately dressed and well-polished man, seated behind the anchor's desk, flashed across the screen. "I can clearly see that you're being buffeted by the wind where you are. Just how cold is it there?"
Though she understood that the anchor was simply marking time until the asteroid began its final approach, his insipid question bothered Roberts. She was there to cover the story of the century, she told herself as she hesitated, not the local weather. Still, she did her best to hide her annoyance, to muster up the best smile she could, and to deliver an appropriate answer. "I was told, as we set off this morning to reach this site, that the thermometer was well below freezing, with little prospect of rising much beyond that throughout the course of the day. That means that a great deal of this past winter's snow is still on the ground, giving Russian officials here a great deal of concern."
"How so?" the warm, comfortable anchor in New York asked, trying to make it sound as if he really cared.
"In advance of the shock wave that the impact of the asteroid will generate," Anna stated matter-of-factly, "a heat wave will sweep over an extensive area at the speed of light. I am told that this phenomena will be capable of igniting trees as far away as twenty miles or more from ground zero. This could result in flash floods throughout this region, not unlike those that the residents of the State of Washington experienced after the eruption of Mount Saint Helena." Pausing, Anna Roberts motioned toward the river below. "As turbulent as that river is now," she stated, "by this afternoon, it will be many times as wide, and choked with debris and shattered trees."
Cutting back to the New York City studio, the production manager caught the anchor making an expression that showed concern. "I hope," the well-polished anchor stated with as much sincerity as he could muster, "that you will be safe where you are."
Anna gave the camera a brave smile as she turned to face it. "I can assure you, Jerry, we will be out of harm's way long before there may be any danger."
The New York anchor was about to launch into a new series of burning questions when he was cued that the time had arrived. "Anna," he announced in a deep voice, "I've just been told that the asteroid is about to come into contact with the upper atmosphere. Can you see anything yet from where you are?"
By the time the production manager switched the views being sent out to the TV network's audience, Antonio Hablas had already pivoted about and trained his camera on the point in the sky where Tim Vandergraff had been told the asteroid would first become visible. The moment of truth, for so many people in so many different ways, was at hand.