I didn't have time to think. I
instinctively reached inside my garbadine lapel
with my free hand and wrestled Black Nellie, my
trusty Sony FV-100 micophone, free of her
shoulder holster. She was a cheap 300 ohm model,
but Nellie was deadly in close-range interviews
-- like an early encounter I had with the Nixon
gang (Dan Rather #1: The Phantom CReEPs).
My right thumb switched her safety off, but
before I could wheel around Fremont tackled me to
the floor. He stomped my hand with his boot heel
and kicked Nellie skittering across the lobby
marble.
"I'm really sorry,
Inspector, there's nothing I can do," he
said. "I'm supposed to escort you out of the
building and hand you your personal
effects."
"There's got to be some
sort of mistake," I said, my mind reeling as
the goon chicken-winged my arms behind my back.
"Let me talk to Andy Heyward, or Josh
Howard... or Mary Mapes! They can vouch for
me!"
Just like the former news anchor ... you shouldn't
miss it.