Teo tapped Bruno on the shoulder, then leaned forward and whispered something in his ear.
Paul kept talking. He walked the audience through how his team conducted shoreline surveys and measured ambient radiation, and by the time he was finished, it was after eleven thirty, and the sun was high in the sky.
“Any questions?” he asked, and despite the heat, two dozen hands shot into the air.
He went with some of the biggest outlets first. A reporter withIl Messaggerohad flown in from Rome, andIl Mattino, in Naples, had sent botha science writer and their chief correspondent for foreign affairs. It didn’t matter who they were. Everyone had the same basic questions. How could the navy be sure that the cesium-137 was the result of fallout and not a nuclear leak? What were the other gamma-emitting radionuclides the U.S. Navy was testing for? And why were those test results not included in the packet?
These questions could have rattled Paul, but he was calm under pressure and had an answer for everything. Even if the answer, nine times out of ten, was that he was not at liberty to provide more information.
Finally, Paul called on Teo, who stood and introduced himself for everyone else’s benefit, then asked, “What do you say to Italians who argue that quarterly testing is not good enough? If there is a major leak or other malfunction aboard a sub, what reassurances does the public have that it will be detected, communicated, and safely dealt with?”
“That’s a lot of questions rolled up into one,” said Paul with a smarmy sort of smile.
“My apologies. Let me know if you need me to repeat anything.”
I knew Paul was going to interpret that last comment as patronizing. “I’ve got it,” he said, then explained that theGilmorefollowed—to the letter—the guidelines laid out in the1964 Statement by the U.S. Government on Operation of Nuclear-Powered Warships in Foreign Ports. “Were there ever to be a problem with a reactor, RADCON would confirm the leak, then ventilate and/or decontaminate accordingly. If the leak could not be quickly fixed or was deemed a threat to the civilian population, we’ve got protocols to get the sub out to sea within an hour.”
“And who determines if the leak is a threat to the civilian population?” Teo continued.
Paul paused, apparently weighing his answer. “RADCON would provide the information to the head of the Repair Division, and he would run it up the chain of command.”
Jenkins, who had been sitting in the first row, stood and faced the crowd. “Ultimately, that decision would rest with me.”
“And so,” said Teo, “I’m curious. When you made the decision to tow the U.S.S.Chartridgeback to the tender, did you know that the reactor was in no way a threat to the civilian population?”
Jenkins remained not just calm but genial. “The reactor had been shutdown, so I was confident that the sub was in no way a threat to the local population.”
I glanced at Mary Lou, who was sitting up extra straight.
“Is it possible for a reactor to leak while it is shut down?” Teo pressed.
Paul waited for Jenkins to say something, but he had returned to his seat, an indication that the tête-a-tête was over. So Paul answered for him. “That was never a concern.”
“But is it possible?”
“Next question,” said Paul, and called on a reporter fromL’Unione Sarda.
The man stood and said, “I would like to hear the answer to my colleague’s question.”
This infuriated Paul, and I glanced up at Teo, who wasn’t so easy to read.
Teo rephrased his question. “Is it possible for even a cold reactor to be a danger to this community?”
Paul shook his head like he couldn’t believe he was still dealing with this guy. “The real danger to this community is journalists like you who come in here with an agenda, trying to rile people up for no good reason.”
Teo let slip a little laugh. “I’d have thought protecting the Maddalenini from the threat of nuclear disaster was reason enough.”
Paul wouldn’t even look at Teo now. “Are there any other questions?” he asked the crowd, but if anyone else asked him anything, I didn’t hear it.
135.
AFTER THE PRESS CONFERENCE ENDED,Teo took one of the tours, and Mary Lou put me in charge of collecting folders. While I wandered up and down the emptying rows of chairs, I watched Paul talking first to the vice admiral and then the ambassador. I was waiting for one of these men to tell him he couldn’t treat a journalist whom they hadinvitedonto theGilmorewith such blatant disrespect, but as I drew closer I realized he was, in fact, being showered with compliments.
Volpe was using words likethoroughandrobust, and Vaughan was nodding along, and by the time I’d finished collecting the folders, the Jenkinses were up at the front praising Paul, too.
“Here are the folders,” I said to Mary Lou.
“Thanks so much,” she said, then prompted me to congratulate Paul, too. “Didn’t your husband do a wonderful job?”
