Chapter 6

Chapter 6

            The Albuquerque Town Hall was already jam packed when Alexa arrived forty five minutes early. She skirted around a handful of reporters from other news stations, filming their pre-press conference coverage.

There were times when Alexa wished she worked for a real news station �" one that had its own channel and working air conditioning. But, at the same time, she was partially glad that she worked at a print-only news outlet. TV workers, even on minor stations, were far too smug for her liking.

There were no seats left, so she found a place to sand in the corner of the room. That was probably just as well. The amount of chatter that went on in the crowd during press conferences made it impossible to hear.

Ignoring all of the hubbub around her as reporters talked to their cameramen and writers organized their recording devices and notebooks, Alexa directed her attention to the front of the room.

There were four people seated behind the podium. Wyatt Russell, the PR representative for Southwest Drilling Company; Robert Clifton, the mayor of Albuquerque; Neal Buchanan, CEO of SDC; and Maurice Diaz, the Union Local President.

            No sign of Governor Marone, Alexa thought, smirking. It wasn’t a shocker. He had a reputation for sending stand-ins whenever possible at conferences for controversial issues. It left less fuel for the fires of his opponents’ ad campaigns during election season.

Mayor Clifton was the second youngest person there, somewhere in his early forties. He was easily the best looking. He either had yet to go gray, or dyed his hair exceptionally well. He had a weight lifter’s physique, and wore his custom tailored suit quite well.

However, Alexa could tell by his body language that he was not nearly as comfortable being here as he appeared to be. There was just something about the way he sat, and the way he kept staring forward into nothing. She didn’t blame him. He was about to take the fall for the most controversial decision Albuquerque had faced in years.

Wyatt Russell looked anything but nervous. He looked like a kid on Christmas morning. He was easily a decade younger than Mayor Clifton. He wasn’t as muscular as Clifton, but he was definitely fit. He wore a black button down under a gray blazer with matching pants and expensive looking black shoes. Alexa came to the conclusion that this was his first major assignment and he wanted to make an impression.

Maurice Diaz looked indifferent to the situation. Alexa thought she could guess why; people weren’t coming to this event to ask questions about the union. Still, he seemed to know this was going to be an impromptu fashion show, and dressed for the part. He wore a sleek black suit that probably cost more than most peoples’ rent.

Neal Buchanan’s face was inscrutable. He was the oldest of the group by at least twenty years, but time had been kind to him. He could have easily passed for Mayor Clifton’s age. If there was an unspoken clothes competition, he was the landslide winner. You could have combined the price tags of all of the suits in the room and not have been able to afford his belt.

Slowly, everyone filtered into the room and took their places. The mediator gave a few opening remarks before introducing the speakers. He stepped down when he finished, and Mayor Clifton stepped up to the podium, straightening his blazer as he did so. He cleared his throat away from the microphone before speaking.

“I’d like to begin by thanking everyone for being here. This is an exciting opportunity for both the city of Albuquerque, as well as the state of New Mexico. We are looking forward to working closely with the Southwestern Drilling Company in the coming months to ensure that everything is done safely and proficiently.

“I have had numerous discussions with Mr. Buchanan” �" he gestured to Buchanan, who waved and smiled �" “and he has assured me that the SDC has a spotless track record when it comes to drilling, and that they have never received any complaints from nearby communities.

“Not only will this fracking create jobs for physical laborers to work at the drilling site, but we’ve been able to create an all new organization that will solely focus on the day to day activities and safety of the drilling team. For this project, we are prioritizing job creation and public safety.”

He paused for a moment, and cleared his throat again before saying what Alexa could tell he had been dreading.

“The floor is now open for questions.”

Every hand in the room shot up in the air. A flicker of worry passed over the mayor’s face, but he composed himself quickly and smiled. He looked around the room before nodding at someone at the opposite end of the room from Alexa.

A thin man wearing a polo and khakis stood up, a pen and notepad in his hand.

“Timothy Paulson, New Mexico Times. What will happen to that new organization once the fracking is completed?”

Mayor Clifton seemed visibly relieved that this was the first question.

“This is a process that can take years to complete. Pre-drilling won’t even be complete for another four months. The drilling itself could take one to two months. And, based on the amount of gas we’ve estimated will be extracted, this project will take a minimum of ten years to complete. Ten years of job security is better than anything that’s being offered right now.”

The mayor looked far more confident as he finished answering the question. He gestured for another question.

This time a woman stood up. She looked to be Alexa’s age, and about twice her weight.

“Melissa Ross, Albuquerque Daily Mail. For the governor to feel comfortable with you handling this issue, the fracking must be happening very close to Albuquerque. Are there any health concerns that the general public should be aware of?”

“None whatsoever,” Mayor Clifton said with a smile. “We’re not drilling near any bodies of water, or any natural habitat that we’re aware of.”

Alexa crossed her arms and stared at the mayor. The first two questions at a public meeting concerning an issue this huge should not be that easy to answer. She watched him closely as he surveyed the room this time. For the first time, she noticed that his eyes betrayed him. He already knew where he was going to look.

She angrily clenched her fist around her pen. The mayor was never nervous. It had all been an act. A good one, she had to give him, but an act all the same. He was never going to allow the kinds of questions that could put him or the governor in a bad light. Alexa wondered how much faster the ADM and the NMT were going to be granted access to government stories after this.

She lost track of all of the bullshit questions that were asked of the mayor. Each one made her angrier and angrier. She had interviewed shady politicians before, but none of them had done anything on this level. This felt like treachery.

The thought of interrupting before a question could be asked went through her head. She almost stood up and did it right there. She could ask him about the potential destruction of the beautiful New Mexico landscape. She could ask why the governor was too much of a coward to come here himself. She could ask how much money would be put into the pockets of him and the governor compared to what the “created jobs” would pay.

But she knew she couldn’t. As a journalist, it was hard enough for her to convince people to grant her access to stories without making extraordinarily powerful enemies simply for the sake of making a point. It would make for a brilliant story, but it would be her last. Potentially in more ways than one.

A small thought began to formulate in her head as she put down her pen and pad to watch the rest of this farce that they called a press conference. Alexa Brennan couldn’t write the real story about what was going on.

But perhaps Timothy Paulson or Melissa Ross could.