"As quick as I can, Little Roo, as quick as I can."
If we didn’t have an audience, I’d kiss her again. Instead, I have to settle for a wink and a smile. This makes me think of the Harry Connick Jr. song of the same title. Wish we were in the Big Easy listening to Harry croon right now. Then I’d show her why we gave New Orleans that quaint little nickname.
I turn and leave the room. When I hear the door close and lock behind me, my throat and heart drop right into my stomach like a rock. I hate leaving her behind.
<to be continued>
Scenes from next week’s Must Read TV:
The only thing that is keeping me from killing him right now is the fact that I know I’ll get shot and Kels will never get out alive.
<cut to>
I glance back over my shoulder to see how stupid he looks. Okay, it might work. "You might want to stay here."
"Why?"
"Microwaves are bad for your … umm… performance abilities, if you know what I mean."
The look of horror on his face makes it clear that he does. "What about the guy in the van?"
"Oh, that’s why we hired him for the job. He can’t get it up anyhow. Bicycle accident as a kid." I shrug, as if it’s no big deal. I hope to hell Olson doesn’t have a directional mike on me; otherwise, he’s gonna be pissed.
"Go ahead." He takes an extra step away from the van. Can’t be too careful, you know.
Jesus, there’s nothing more dangerous than a moron with a gun
Episode Ten: Skyrockets in Flight
Scenes from Last Week’s Must read TV:
The request is made and she opens up to me. Our kiss is long, deep and passionate. God, she tastes good. No wonder Elizabeth flies across the damn country to have more of her. I’d crawl.
<cut to>
I can see up the slight slope surrounding the compound. There, on the ridge, are cops of all kinds and the National Guard surrounding the place.
Just fucking wonderful.
Well, if the ATF doesn’t get involved, we might survive this.
<cut to>
I nod toward the door. "If you still want airtime, I’m going to need gear from the van. Fresh tapes and batteries."
"One of my men will walk you out." He swings the barrel of the gun at Kels. "She stays here to make sure you don’t do anything stupid."
<cut to>
I turn and leave the room. When I hear the door close and lock behind me, my throat and heart drop right into my stomach like a rock. I hate leaving her behind.
Episode Ten: Skyrockets in Flight
There are a lot of people in this compound, but there’s only one that I give a good goddamn about. And these freaks had better hope nothing happens to her while I’m gone or they’ll learn how many ways I can inflict pain and exactly how goddamn good I am at it.
I’m walking in front of another gun-toting dumb ass with my hands up. No way in hell do I want to be mistaken for one of these crazies. I want to make it perfectly clear that I’m the victim here. I snort as that thought crosses my mind. Victim, riiiight. I’ve never been a victim in my life. I’m not even one now, but I may as well let them think I am.
As we step outside the building where they’re holding us, Head Nimrod, a.k.a. Scamp, joins us on the porch. "Okay, Tabloid." He grins at me. "That is what your little friend called you, isn’t it?"
"Yeah, and she can call me that all she wants, but if you do it again, I’ll take your lungs out through your nose."
"Watch it," he warns, his voice low and serious. "You’re walking out of here and blondie is still inside with me. If you’re not good, I’ll go back in there and show her what a real man can do for her."
The only thing that is keeping me from killing him right now is the fact that I know I’ll get shot and Kels will never get out alive. "It always comes down to fucking something over for losers like you, doesn’t it?"
"If you behave, she’ll be unharmed. If not, know that she will be cursing your name for leaving her behind, not mine." He leans back against the wooden railing, folding his arms across his chest, fixing me with a level stare.
My stomach rolls at the thought of him with his hands on Kels and I return his stare. "Stay away from her."
He smirks at me and waves his hand to the junior nimrod. There is a poke in my back as I am nudged down the steps. I watch the cops and National Guard watch me as we make our way up the slight incline, away from the compound, and outside the main gate. It clangs shut behind us. I now have guns pointed at my front and my behind. Suddenly, I’m ready to join my family on a march for gun control. Right now would be nice.
My companion, a disposable nimrod, apparently, since they have him accompanying me into the heart of National Guard-land, is plodding along behind me. I almost wish someone would shoot him for being stupid. But, the consequences to Kelsey aren’t anywhere worth quenching my frustration.
As I move toward the truck, Olson slides the door open and sticks his orange head out.
"Stop!" my guard snaps, suddenly panicked.
Little late to get spooked, dickhead.
Olson meets my eyes and waits for me.
I turn to my shadow. "Look, I need to give him the tapes we shot yesterday for editing, and I need to get fresh batteries and tapes. This is so I can do what Scamp wants. You wouldn’t want me to be unable to do his interview, do you?"
He squints, thinking hard.
I can smell smoke. Christ, he is as stupid as he looks.
"Fine. Don’t pull any funny stuff."
Riiiight. I’ll be sure not to do my Abbott and Costello routine.
However, I will need him to stay back so I can work my magic. I glance back over my shoulder to see if he looks gullible on top of it all. Okay, this should work. "You might want to wait here."
"Why?"
"Microwaves are bad for your umm…performance abilities, if you know what
I mean."
The look of horror on his face makes it clear that he does. "What about the guy in the truck?"
"Oh, that’s why we hired him for the job. He can’t get it up anyhow. Bicycle accident as a kid." I shrug, as if it’s no big deal. I hope to hell Olson doesn’t have a directional mike on me; otherwise, he’s gonna be pissed.
"Go ahead." He takes an extra step away from the truck. Can’t be too careful, you know.
Jesus, there’s nothing more dangerous than a moron with a gun.
I make my way to the open door of the truck. Olson is waiting for me inside; he looks terrible. "What’s wrong, kid? Didn’t you sleep?"
He shakes his head at my bravado. "How are you, Harper? Where’s Kelsey?"
"I’m okay. We’re okay. They kept her inside for an interview. Now, listen up good, I only got a minute." I slide the backpack off my back and start pulling out objects slowly. Don’t want Chicken Little to shoot me accidentally. I hand Olson the tapes we shot yesterday. "Give these to the cops. They’ll get a good idea of the layout of the compound. And we taped a murder. Assholes."
His eyes go wider still as he takes the tapes and sets them aside carefully.
"Now, when you hand me some new tapes, be sure to hand me the pinhead mike, transceiver and earpiece with them." The three items I’ve asked for will allow me to both send and receive audio signals without much difficulty.
He nods slowly, and turns to retrieve the items I’ve asked for. "How are you gonna wire yourself up?" he asks softly with his back to me.
I smile, enjoying the thought. "I’ll have Kelsey do it. If we have a moment alone. Just monitor the feed. I’ll go live as soon as possible." I draw in a deep breath, noticing that the air of freedom really does smell better. Damn, I am getting to be more and more like my parents every damn day. Soon I’ll be singing "If I had a hammer" and other folk songs.