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It's September 26th, 1972, in Washington, D.C.

The reporter Carl Bernstein, sitting at his desk in the newsroom of the Washington Post,

he rubs his eyes and looks up at the clock.

It's already 11.20 at night, somehow it got really late, but Bernstein can't afford to go home.

He still has a lot of work ahead of him, calls to make, sources to track down,

an endless series of tasks as he and a fellow reporter Bob Woodward tried to untangle the mysteries behind Watergate.

It's been a long few months, ever since the story broke, and at first it didn't appear to be much of a story at all.

Five men were caught burglarizing in office.

It seemed like nothing more than a small scale crime.

But the office belonged to the Democratic National Committee, and sensing something was up,

Woodward and Bernstein kept digging, and soon Watergate ballooned into something much bigger than a petty crime.

Recently, the two reporters found that the Watergate burglars received funding from top officials running President Nixon's re-election campaign,

and the accusations ran all the way to the top.

Sources have pointed their fingers at John Mitchell, the former head of the campaign, and a former Attorney General.

Mitchell has been accused of handling a secret slush fund, which was used to finance surveillance operations against the Democrats.

But at this point, Bernstein can't prove that Mitchell was directly involved in the Watergate break-in,

but with the most recent revelation about the slush fund, Bernstein would do have enough for a story.

Still, they need to do their due diligence, and that means giving Mitchell a chance to comment.

So Bernstein reaches for the phone and dials Mitchell's number.

He knows the former Attorney General will probably deny everything, but maybe there's a way to get him talking,

or at least to learn something new about this growing scandal.

...