by Cat Johnson
“What op?”
“The one in your script. The scene where you get ambushed.” Rick tipped a chin toward the papers scattered on the table.
What had been a neatly bound script in a binder was now a mess. And without even looking, Sierra had a bad feeling it was her script Rick had ripped apart and marked up.
She didn’t have time to check as Jon started to explain in more detail to Jamey what he’d scribbled on the mirror.
It might have been hieroglyphics for all she knew, but Jon and Rick seemed to be able to interpret its meaning.
“See here?” Rick pointed. “This is the SEAL team. The good guys. They’ll come in on Zodiacs at night under cover of darkness.”
“Not in the broad daylight like you guys had it in the script,” Jon added. “We checked. There’s a new moon rising in a few days, which is perfect because we’d never go in during a full moon unless it was some kind of QRF situation and absolutely necessary.”
“QRF?” Jamey asked.
“Quick reaction force,” Rick answered.
“Anyway, the good guys hit the beach while the bad guys are set up for an ambush here.” Jon marked the spot with an X.
“That’s where the attack happens that puts your character in the hospital and gives him all the PTSD and injuries and shit,” Rick jumped in. “I figure you can definitely film the hospital scenes with your face messed up. And, since you’ll be wearing NVGs, a helmet and grease paint, you can shoot the ambush scene too.”
“And that’s where Zane’s phone call comes in,” Jon continued. “If he gets approval—and judging by that smile on his face he’s going to get it—we might be able to get the new SEAL class from Coronado as your extras. He already got us approval to use San Clemente Island for the location.”
“So no need to worry about the logistics of shooting the flashback scenes this week. We’ve got the location and hopefully the extras all covered.” Rick grinned. “You can film this starting in a couple of days, bruised face and all.”
What the hell? Sierra stood, amazed. How the hell had Rick managed all this?
Even though the testosterone in the small space was nearly overwhelming, Sierra took a step closer. “Wait. Hold on a minute. We’re going to film on San Clemente Island? And with real SEALs as extras?”
“Not we. It won’t be you, princess. This is for Jamey’s flashbacks to battle. Page fifty-one.” Rick tipped his head toward the remains of the script.
“Yes. I know what scene you’re talking about, but it wasn’t written like this at all.”
“It was written wrong,” Jon said flatly, leaving no room for argument.
“All right. It’s a done deal.” Zane, finally off his phone call, joined the group. “Hey, Sierra,” he added as casually as if he hadn’t just pulled off a miracle.
“Um, hi.”
“What do you mean a done deal? We got permission?” Rick asked.
“Permission and about two dozen volunteers.”
“Really?” Rick’s eyes widened.
“I called the Master Chief. He asked the class and they are all in. He wants to be in the film too.” Zane grinned.
Jon slapped Rick in the gut with the back of his hand. “Told you they’d want to do it.”
“Wait? You’re serious. We’re going to be filming with actual SEALs?”
“They will be tomorrow as soon as they stand on the grinder and get that trident. Yup.” Zane nodded.
They might as well have been talking in another language. Sierra didn’t know what grinders and tridents had to do with anything, but she did know movies. She lifted one hand. “You’re all forgetting one thing.”
Three sets of eyes turned to her.
“Howard has to agree to all of this. Not just Howard, but the production department. There’s a lot of planning and a lot of people involved in making a movie this size and they don’t move quickly.”
“Almost as many people and as much planning as a mission?” Zane dropped that little criticism against her protest with a smirk.
Sierra let out a breath. “Yes, I know. You guys used to do shit like this all the time.”
Jon raised one finger. “Actually, we still do.”
“Fine. But this is Hollywood and—”
“And it’s a different world and we play by different rules here,” Jamey interrupted her, finishing her thought. “I know that, but it’s worth a try. Isn’t it?”
The eager hope and excitement radiating from him had her nodding. “Yeah, it’s worth a try.”
His face broke out into a grin, before he winced and fingered his visibly swollen injury. He was hurting still but, as much as she hated to admit it, Rick was right. Jamey’s injury wouldn’t matter for the flashback scenes.
“All right, if we’re going to go into Howard with this, we need a plan of how to present it. You guys might know all this stuff.” She waved a hand at the mirror with a flourish. “But I know this business and I particularly know Howard, so this is how it’s going to go . . .”
With any luck, they’d win this battle. They had to. Right now, it was their only hope of saving this movie and all their reputations. Possibly their careers.
CHAPTER 11
It was dark. Dark and eerily quiet.
That was the overwhelming sensation Sierra got as she stood on the island.
After being surrounded by the lights of Los Angeles, and before that Miami, to be somewhere this completely dark was disconcerting.
Those were bustling cities at night, lit by neon and streetlights, buildings and vehicles all filled with noisy active people.
This—this was what amounted to a deserted island. No electric lights. No buildings in sight. No people save for the movie crew and actors. But at least they wouldn’t have to worry about locking down the street or the back of the shot like they usually did when filming in public locations.
She’d never paid all that much attention to the moon before. Perhaps to admire a particularly big and bright one if she happened to see it, but not enough to miss it when it wasn’t there. She sure as hell missed it tonight.
Even the presence of a few dozen SEALs couldn’t make this place feel less deserted or creepy on the dark moonless night. It would make a great location for a horror movie.
Memories from too many hours during her youth spent watching that particular genre had Sierra moving a little closer to the monitor, the only source of light in her immediate vicinity.
The prop manager already stood there, watching the screen as Jamey did a sound check and a light check.
Normally a stand-in would be on hand to do that for the star. Tonight, they were running short on stand-ins but long on Navy SEALs, so Jamey stood in for the checks—and looked as thrilled as a kid on Christmas morning to be doing so.
This had to be the oddest shoot of her life.
“You think these guys are really going to be able to pull this off?” the prop guy asked, angling his head to glance at her.
God, she hoped so. This whole elaborate and unlikely scheme was her boyfriend’s idea. It had better work.
She couldn’t say that exactly, so instead she decided to be upbeat. “I think so. Why not?”
“Well for one thing, they’re not actors.”
Rick stepped up to them, invisible until he emerged like a specter out of the darkness and into the glow of the monitor. “And they’re not acting. They’re doing exactly what they’ve been trained to do for the past two years. Fuck, after you work with these guys you’ll never want to work with civilian extras again, because there is one thing these men do better than anyone else. That’s follow orders and work as a team. Quick and precise.”
“Places!”
“Speaking of following orders. Gotta go.” Rick grinned beneath the multicolored grease paint covering his face.
The white of his teeth flashed from within his dark camouflaged face before he turned and disappeared completely into the darkness. The only evidence of his existence was the cr
unch of his boots on the sand until that too disappeared.
The prop manager shook his head. “This better turn out to be one fucking amazing scene. Like Academy Award for Best Cinematography kind of great. Do you know how much the props they insisted on cost us?”
There didn’t seem to be a whole lot of props. They were on an island. Sierra shook her head. “No.”
He let out a snort. “Let’s just say four-tube night vision goggles don’t come cheap. And having them was a deal breaker apparently. He refused to let us use the two-tube.”
She frowned. “Rick did? Why?”
“The characters are written as being part of SEAL Team Six and apparently they only use the four-tube. I was told if I wanted to fuck it up and look like an amateur I should use two-tube NVGs instead of four. But if I wanted to do it right, I’d better get four-tubes. I believe that was the exact quote from your boyfriend.”
She cringed at the word boyfriend. Although this discussion did help her understand why Rick continuously huffed and grumbled while they watched certain military TV shows and movies.
Sierra lifted a shoulder. “He lived this life for a decade so I guess he should know.”
“I guess he should.” The prop manager watched the monitor. “I have to admit, it does look fucking cool.”
She watched the wide shot of the team speeding toward the shore in a boat. “Yeah, it does.”
“And they did save us money on some things. The SEALs are wearing their own uniforms so I didn’t have to get dozens of those in all the various sizes, which is always a pain in the ass. And somehow they managed to get us those Navy boats on loan. That would have been a bitch coming up with a couple of those on such short notice.”
“Wow.” She had to wonder how many favors Zane called in to get the use of actual Navy boats, on top of the two-dozen men in uniform.
“Hell, they’re even carrying their own weapons. Loaded with our blanks since I didn’t trust them.”
“Didn’t trust them how?” she asked.
“I don’t know if they were pulling my leg or not, but your boyfriend and his two friends seemed too damned excited while they were talking about how cool it would be to shoot the scene using live ammo.” The prop manager let out a snort. “Crazy mother fuckers.”
She was seeing a whole other side of Rick’s life. One she hadn’t fully grasped or appreciated until tonight.
It was definitely an eye opener.
She tracked the action on the monitor. Fifteen SEALs plus Jamey jumped out of the two rubber boats and ran onto the shore. Somewhere, the other extras were hidden, playing the bad guys about to ambush Jamey’s unit.
Sierra was appreciating how real it all looked just as an explosion rocked the ground beneath her feet. It threw her off balance and sent her landing on her ass in the sand.
With a curse, the prop manager reached down to help her up. “You okay?”
“Yeah. I think so,” she said as she tried to brush damp sand off her clothes.
“I knew I shouldn’t have agreed to let the SEALs rig the explosion.”
Her eyes widened. Maybe she should have stayed in the hotel.
CHAPTER 12
Next to Rick, Sierra yawned wide as she slumped low in the seat and cradled her extra large coffee in both hands.
“You could have stayed in bed, you know.”
They’d filmed last night until zero-dark thirty, breaking just a couple of hours before sunrise.
She blew out a pfft. “Are you crazy? I’m not missing these dailies. Howard’s going to decide if this whole scheme of yours is a success or a failure based on this footage.”
Rick had been thrilled when he’d been told he’d be allowed to sit in and watch the dailies from last night’s shoot.
What he wasn’t as thrilled about was what Sierra had just said about Howard and his decision.
This was raw, unedited footage. How good could it be? Even he knew how important editing was.
Noise at the back of the screening room had him craning his neck to see who’d come in.
Jamey strode toward them looking completely awake, unlike Sierra. Although his coffee cup matched the enormous size of hers.
Rick was running on enough adrenaline right now as he waited to see if they’d pulled off movie magic last night. He hadn’t needed anything more than a normal-sized cup and even that had his heart racing.
Jamey spotted Rick down near the front and waved, then worked his way between the rows to sit behind Rick. He leaned forward and rested his forearms on the back of Rick’s seat.
“This is going to be fucking epic.” The excitement was clear in Jamey’s voice.
Rick blew out a puff of air. “We’d better hope it is.”
Sierra cut him a sideways glance and gave a small nod. He didn’t need the reminder that more than his future was on the line.
But more than just this movie was at stake here. Reputations followed stars from one movie to the next.
She loved him. He knew that. But could that love survive if he sank her career? That would change things. It would have to. And he wouldn’t blame her if it did.
Shit.
But it had felt good last night. Of course that could have just been him thinking that because he missed that kind of action so damn much.
“All right. Let’s get this show on the road.”
Rick spun around again and saw that Howard had taken the first seat by the back door.
That felt like a bad sign. As if he wanted to be close to the exit so he could leave when the footage turned out to be so bad he couldn’t stand watching it any longer.
Rick leaned closer to Sierra. “Does he always sit way back there?
She twisted to look, then glanced at Rick. “No.”
Fuck.
The room was plunged into darkness until light from the projector illuminated the front of the screening room.
A test pattern flashed and then the wait was over. An image filled the screen. A wide shot of an inflatable rubber combat boat carrying eight men as it appeared on the horizon.
The SEALs from Coronado acted as the gunner on the automatic weapon at the bow and the coxswain controlling the tiller in the rear. The remaining six passengers in the lead boat, comprised of five more SEALs plus Jamey, leaned low and straddled the gunwale.
The second boat came into the shot. Both sped toward the shore and closer to the camera on the moonless night.
It was a hell of a sight to see, those two Zodiacs as they bounced over the water and raced toward the beach.
Next, a different camera zoomed in and provided a tight shot of Jamey, looking impressively like a SEAL right down to the expression of determined concentration on his face as his gaze stayed trained on the shore ahead.
The action continued as the sixteen-men leapt out of the Zodiacs and hit the beach running.
The combat-experienced operator in Rick studied every detail with a critical eye, searching for errors made by both the cast and the brand new SEALs fresh out of training.
He didn’t find many. He didn’t know if Howard would care about the precision with which they’d pulled this off, but Rick cared and it made him as proud as he was amazed.
Jamey did appear a little uncomfortable with the gun in his hands, not as natural as the SEALs looked with the weapons they carried, but the average movie goer wouldn’t notice that. They’d be too enthralled with the action, not to mention the sound edits and music that would be added later.
Even as is, the raw footage looked totally kick ass. He couldn’t help but smile as he reached out and squeezed Sierra’s hand.
“This looks good. Right?” he asked, soft and close to her ear.
She cut her gaze sideways and nodded. “Yeah. It does.”
Tempering his excitement, he focused his attention back to the screen.
Just because he and his girlfriend thought it was great didn’t mean the director would. The verdict was still up in the air. But hell, at least he knew he’d t
ried his best and accomplished what he’d set out to do. The rest was up to Howard.
A flash of white on the screen caught his attention. There was a break in the footage and then a new scene replaced it. This one a shot of the interior of the island.
Rick saw a close-up of himself, laid out on his belly on the sand with a rifle. It was a position he’d held for hours—though not for as long as he would have had to in real combat. But the shoot had gone on long enough he’d eventually forgotten the cameras were there.
He certainly had no clue one was that close to him, zoomed in tight enough he could practically see the grease paint sunk into the individual pores of his skin.
The camera was on him as the explosives detonated on the beach. It caught his reaction as he rolled, leapt up and took off running. The shot followed him as he dove behind cover and fired his blanks at the supposed enemy.
It was odd watching himself, but he didn’t have much time to consider that as the scene changed again. This time it focused on Jamey, lying on the ground, pretending pretty convincingly to be injured from the explosion.
Jamey’s swollen face didn’t matter now or for the scenes he’d been filming this week that were set in the hospital during his recovery.
He was good. The scene was dramatic. Convincing and eerily real looking as the SEAL from the graduating class dropped to his knees to tourniquet Jamey’s fake leg wound.
Rick didn’t know how much time passed. He was so enthralled by what was on screen. But finally the dailies ended. The screen went white again and the lights came up.
He glanced at Sierra. She didn’t look sleepy anymore. Her eyes were wide open as she turned them toward him.
“Well?” he asked.
“Wow.” Her single word gave him hope he was afraid to let himself feel.
He turned in his seat and saw Jamey. The kid’s face broke into a wide smile. “Dude.”
“You happy?” Rick asked.
“Happy?” Jamey shook his head. “I’m ecstatic. Holy shit, if this movie doesn’t get nominated for a fuck ton of awards I’m quitting this business.”