"Look, this is ridiculous," he said. "Let's just copy them all and get out of here. You can take them to your hotel and go through them there. It's quicker and safer. You don't need me."

I nodded and realized it was the way we should have done it all along. For the next fifteen minutes he operated the copier while I took the protocols from the files and replaced them after they were copied. It was a slow machine, not made for heavy use.

When we were done he turned off the machine and told me to wait in the office.

"I forgot about the cleaners. It might be better if I just take these back to storage, then come get you."

"Okay. 19 I started looking through the copied protocols while he was gone but was too nervous to concentrate on them. I felt like running out the door with the copies and getting away before anything could go wrong. I looked around his office to try to pass the time. I picked up the photo of Waffen's family. A pretty, petite wife and two kids, a boy and a girl.

Both of preschool age in the photo. The door opened while the frame was still in my hand. It was Warren and I felt embarrassed. He paid no notice.

"Okay, we're ready."

And like two spies we snuck out under cover of darkness.

Warren was silent almost all the way back to the hotel. I think it was because his involvement was over and he knew it. I was the reporter. He was the source. It was my story. I felt his jealousy and desire. For the story. For the job. For what he'd once been and had.

"Why'd you really quit, man?" I asked.

This time he dropped the bullshit.

"My wife, family. I was never home. One crisis after another, you know. I had to cover them all. Finally, I had to make a choice. Some days I think I made the right one.

Some days I don't. This is one of those that I don't. This Is a hell of a story, Jack."

Now I was silent for a while. Warren drove into the hotel's main entrance and headed around the circle to the doors. He pointed through the windshield to the right side of the hotel.

"See down there? That's where Reagan got it. I was there. Fuckin' five feet from Hinckley while we were waiting. He even asked me what time it was. Almost no other reporters were out there. Back then, most of them didn't bother staking his exits. But they did after that."

"wow."

"Yeah, that was something." and then we both laughed. We both knew the secret. Only in a reporter's world would it be a highlight. We both knew that probably the only thing better than witnessing a presidential assassination attempt as a reporter was witnessing a successful assassination. Just as long as you didn't catch a bunet in the crossfire.