There are many kinds of reporters, but none are more diametrically opposite than the Conference Room Reporter and the War Zone Reporter. Their stories can be just as critical to a functioning democratic society, but their tolerances are different.
A War Zone Reporter doesn’t flinch at the sound of an F-15 screaming overhead or run for cover when a bomb detonates three neighborhoods over, but will die of boredom sitting across a table from a source and his or her three lawyers. A Conference Room Reporter can weather the monotonous monsoon of picked-and-polished information that talking heads begrudgingly supply, but has no stomach for personal peril other than a potential cease and desist.
That’s why the Federal Vigilante Agency’s press room — located on the third floor and shrouded from the city with wood panels meant to keep Nightfire’s presence a secret from the courtyard below — had broken into chaos. All of these local news crews and writers whose worst fears were a dying phone battery during an exclusive interview were facing certain death at the hands of a madman who had just made his presence known by splashing his logo in dripping neon green light along the wall behind Nightfire.
At least, that was Constance Lin’s take on things from where she stood in the back of the room. Being six feet tall helped her see over the melee, but the extra four inches added by her high heels also meant a less stable base when the room is swarming with panicked people.
The room flashed with light, an abrupt bolt that seared itself into everyone’s eyes as it vanished. Up on the wall, down on the floor, pasted to the back of heads, no matter where Constance looked, there it was: the sun-bright outline of a flaming, falling meteor that made up Flashbang’s calling card.
Suddenly the heat of embarrassment — no, just awareness at being the outlier, as if that was anything new to her — of mentioning the fax she had received was gone out of her cheeks. Instead, her brain buzzed with the reminder that she needed to survive. She had come too far to be brought down by some asshole with a fancy light show.
Constance Lin is a crucial supporting character in my NaNoWriMo project, Nobody’s Hero.