"I can't give you all the details,

  or even any of them," said the resolute man.  "What kind of question is that?" Was wondered out loud on the earpiece.  "Piece of shit magazine type." 

  "They're jockeying for assignments bro." 

  "Because it's an open case!  An act of terrorism no less!  Against our nation!" 

  "He needs help.  I'm going down there." 

 

  Relieved.  Ears still ringing from the explosion.  Sent to see where activists and protestors had had a standoff with "out of touch" politicians. 

  "The footages have not all been pieced together but there's no question that some of the people that were here, were also there at that time, and maybe, hold on, hold on," fast forwarding and rewinding. 

  "Be easy on the tapes boys." 

  "Because it's not a free-for-all," suits had spilled onto the lawn chasing paparazzi-in-disguise out of the building. 

  "Is this a change in tone mate?" 

  A stone-faced middle age man saw the young person being asked that split second doubt the silent strategy and crept up behind the zoom lens carrier questioning.  Knees into backs of the knees.  Camera then hanging down.  Another suit pulled at it.  The strap rubbed against the man's neck.  A third suit, a woman, pulled a pair of scissors from skirt pocket and cut the straps. 

  "Let's get more.  Same way," the suits moved away from the man rubbing his neck.