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It's February 2015 and a Monday morning in Manhattan.

John Kerry Rue climbs the stairs of a subway station alongside a crush of other commuters.

When he steps out into the city streets in Midtown, he's greeted by bumper to bumper traffic and crowds of people hurrying into skyscrapers.

Kerry Rue buttons up his coat, the cold wind blowing through his mop of brown hair.

Then he slips into the crowd and begins hurrying to his office in a building that also reaches toward the grey winter sky.

Kerry Rue has a lot of work ahead of him.

For years, he's been a reporter at the Wall Street Journal.

He's a highly respected journalist and he's recently finished an investigative piece about Medicare fraud.

That story was all consuming, but now that it's behind him, it's time to get back to work to find his next great feature story.

Kerry Rue steps into the newsroom of the Wall Street Journal.

It's a beautiful, chaotic scene.

Reporters type furiously on their keyboards while interviewing sources for their stories, phones ring in every direction.

Up above, flat screen TVs are tuned to news about the markets and politics.

Kerry Rue has been in this building a thousand times, but he'll never get tired of the newsroom or the important work of holding people in power accountable for their actions.

The moment later, Kerry Rue reaches his messy desk.

He barely has a chance to take off his coat when his phone rings.

Oh, this is John.

John, Saddam Clapper, got a minute?

Adam, good timing.

I'm just starting to look for my next story.

At some point, I was hoping to talk with my favorite physician slash blogger slash consultant.

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