“Not within my power. But I’m sure the State of California will be happy to plug you—in. ”
“I have many powerful friends,” he said as if that answered the threat of institutional demise.
“What do you expect them to do? Form a Free Andy Committee?”
“Why are you doing this to me? From what I hear, you’re nothing but a criminal. Join me. You know the power of Veritas. You know what we could do. ”
“I’ve done the criminal. I try to avoid the immoral. ”
“You’ve discovered a difference?”
I leaned into Rand. Close. I whispered into his ear. “Civil authorities decide on the one. I decide on the other. ” There was no better way to tell him that I could not be his.
Rand turned his head to me. Our eyes met. His were questioning. Mine were unflinching.
“You—you really are going to turn me over to the police. ”
“If I don’t let Imelda do a ‘Miguel’ on you. ”
Imelda jumped off the table and eagerly shoved the gun into Rand’s golden gut. For the first time fear crossed his eyes. For the first time he was getting it. Imelda smiled and proudly puffed out her chest as she looked to me for permission. Her beauty had never shone as much.
“You know,” I turned to Anne, “your crazy director may have had a point. ”
“Oh, shut up,” she said with a smile.
We could hear sirens. “Imelda, you better give me the gun. ” Reluctantly, she gave it to me. “And, you’re to say nothing to the police in regards to Miguel. I have friends in Immigration. I’ll take care of you. ”
“And me, Imelda,” Anne said, slightly competitive, “I’ll be there for you. ”
Imelda nodded, reassured, but probably she remained cautious.
“Okay, Rand, let’s go. ”
Rand stood up. “Last chance, Fixxer, there’s much we could do with
Veritas. ”
“That’s a tabled issue. ”
Rand fell into resignation. His shoulders slumped. Pools of moisture began to form in his eyes. “Oh, God,” he said facing a hard truth he could not manipulate. From top of the world to bottom of the slagheap, it has a tendency to yank your guts out. He turned away, faced the bookcase, taking a moment to recover some dignity. “You ever read Graham Green, Fixxer?” he said quietly among sobs.
“Yes. ”
“Great film critic. One of the reasons I went into film. And a great novelist. ” He ran his fingers along the spines of books, as if they, strange non-celluloid, non-digital dreams, would save him. He stopped at a particular one. “Did you ever read this one? This Gun for Hire?”
I figured it out a multi-second too late. Rand pushed the spine of the book, and through some clever mechanism, suddenly had a pistol in his hand, and was pointing it at Anne.
“Don’t you love bootleggers?” Rand asked with a big wide grin. “They were so wonderfully paranoiac. Not without good cause, I think. ”
But I was not impressed. “Rand, that’s a model 422 from Advantage Arms. Beautifully concealable with that two and a half inch barrel, but you’ll have to be an awfully good shot to make much use of it in this situation. ”
Rand swiftly swung his arm in Imelda’s direction, shot, then quickly swung back to point it at Anne. There was a groan from Imelda as she clutched her stomach and fell to the ground.
“Imelda!” Anne screamed and moved to her, Rand tracking her with the gun all the way.
I wouldn’t be surprised if both Roee and I had dropped our jaws.
Rand shrugged off our amazement. “Beverly Hills Gun Club,” he said by way of explanation. “Now put the gun down, Fixxer. ”
I did.
“Anne, leave Imelda to her peace and come over here and push A Thousand and One Nights. ”
Anne coldly did so. The bookcase door opened. Rand walked over to her, grabbed her right arm, pulled it back and jerked it up. There was the reality of pain on her face, but she refused to make a sound.
“Get anywhere near me, and I’ll kill her and York. Understood?”
“Yes. ”
He moved Anne through the door.
“Fixxer!” Anne yelled back as they went down the stairs, her voice slightly echoing in the stairwell. “Now I’m a damsel in distress. ”
We could hear Rand laugh. He was enjoying this.
“Roee get into that computer, it’s linked to a camera down there. ”
It wasn’t hard; the computer was only on sleep. An image of the lab came up quickly. Rand was just forcing York out of his room. He ordered him and Anne to unplug and gather up all the Veritas equipment. As we were watching, the Captain and many deputies arrived. Someone started to attend to Imelda immediately. The Captain came over to us. On the screen we could see Rand push Anne and York towards the backdoor.
“He’s got a powerboat down there in an underground dock beyond the door,” I informed the Captain and Roee.
“And probably a number of escape vehicles positioned around the lake,” Roee said.
“Yes. Batsarov would have seen to that. Fully armed and with other provisions. Rand probably scoffed at the idea. ”
“Likes it now, I’ll bet,” the Captain said. “He could land anywhere and he has two hostages. There’s a good chance he’s going to make it off this mountain. ”
“Police procedure?”
“To follow maintaining a safe distance. Try to negotiate. ”
“That’ll never work. ”
“Why?”
“You’ve never negotiated with a Hollywood executive, have you Captain?” I ran for the stairs and Roee followed.
The Captain, following good form, yelled after us, “Fixxer, stop!” But you could tell his heart wasn’t in it.
As we ran through the lab I explained, “Rand’s got two water jets down there. ”
“They’re not as fast. ”
“Then we’ll have to get clever. Despite his demeanor, Rand is in a panic. We have to use that. ”
The water was still lapping around the dock when we got there and mounted the two water jets.
“Oh great!” Roee exclaimed.
“What?”
“These are Yamaha WaveRaiders! These babies have 110 horses!”
“Really?”
“Yeah. ”
“I can’t seem to get out of this Western. ”
Coming out of the underground dock we met the tail end of Rand’s wake, but he was still well ahead of us, just leaving the cove and entering the main body of the lake.
“WILL HE SHOOT THEM?” Roee shouted as we gained speed riding parallel to each other.
“CAN’T! WHAT DOES THAT LEAVE HIM WHILE HE’S VULNERABLE ON THE LAKE? BUT WE DON’T HAVE MUCH TIME!”
Looking up ahead we could see that Rand had York at the wheel and Anne sitting next to him on the driver’s bench, holding on as best as possible. Rand was forward in the scooped-out cockpit to the port side holding another AR-18 on them. Obviously the boat accommodated more than just rods and reels. Even at this distance we could tell he was nervous by his constant scanning of the lake shore, trying either to remember the landing spots or decide which one to use. He spotted us and the AR-18 was up and firing in a second. We took evasive action, breaking away from each other, curving and coming back, criss-crossing every few seconds. I could just catch glimpses of late afternoon boaters and skiers, shocked at the sounds and the chase, moving quickly to get out of the way.
As fast as the water jets were, we still weren’t catching up, hindered as well by our evasive maneuvers. But we were confusing the issue, causing consternation in Rand. I could only hope that Anne would think to take advantage of that and do something, grab the throttle, bring it down, anything that would give Roee and me a chance at him.
Roee was just passing once more in front of me when a spray of bullets must have riddled his water jet, maybe his leg as well, for I saw him suddenly throw his hands up and kick backwards off the craft, flying into the air. The water jet continued without h
im, exploding in a fireball. Momentum kept Roee flying forward and he passed through the fireball, hitting the water just after it to skip along its surface like a stone. I slowed for a second, determined to go back, a determination that waned quickly under analysis. I sped up again, pushing forward. I could only hope Roee survived. I could only hope that the
Captain had a force out on the water.
Rand’s boat suddenly veered to the right, heading towards North Bay. I followed, maintaining a zigzag, but I was losing the race, something Rand also knew for he had stopped shooting.
Then Rand’s boat hit the wake of a civilian’s boat just getting out of the way. It bounced. Anne lost her grip and fell backwards on the deck, grabbing one of the stabilizing rods of the jack plate to keep from going overboard. York tried to turn around to grab her, but Rand wouldn’t let him, pushing the gun at him. Then suddenly the whole powerboat shook, bounced, Rand lost his footing and almost fell overboard. To save himself he had to let go of the AR-18. It fell into the lake. I was catching up and I could see why. Whether by plan or quick thinking, Anne had managed to hit the switch of the hydraulic unit on the jack plate and brought the engine’s prop up out of the water. Rand was frantic. He jumped onto the back deck, kicked at Anne. She held onto the stabilizing rod, but the kick had forced her off to one side and her legs were now hanging over the back end of the boat, just to the side of the engine. Rand reached down and pushed the switch, lowering the engine, the prop suddenly catching the water and pushing the boat forward. But it was too late. I had gained enough to come up along side just as the boat was beginning to speed up again. I jumped off the water jet and onto Rand just as he was stepping back into the cockpit. We fell together and were wedged between the instrument console and the side of the boat. He kicked and screamed and bit, but I managed to subdue him and get one good shot at his head with my elbow, stunning him.
We were flying. The boat was up, out of the water, and slowly rotating upside down. I managed to get my head up. I could see York being thrown in the spin. Anne let go and followed, and I followed her. Rand was still wedged in the boat and went with it as it dropped down and hit the water, capsized.
I was under water, struggling to come up. I made it. There was Anne treading water. Behind her I could see the ski jump ramp the boat must have hit the edge of, causing its flight and flip. I turned my head. There was the boat, bottom up, strangely adrift, the engine still roaring, its prop sticking up in the air and chopping at it to little avail. I knew Rand was trapped. I dove; got under the boat, found him still wedged, awake and full of fear. I grabbed him, pulled, yanked, put my foot on the instrument console and pushed. Got him loose. Pulled him out from under the boat and brought him to the surface, holding his head up. He took in a breath. I looked around—still only Anne.
“York?”
“Oh my god!” She looked around. Dove.
“No! Anne, don’t!”
But it was too late. Rand was beginning to struggle. Out of fight or flight, I wasn’t sure. I held him tight, but really wanted him to go away, to just go away, so I could help Anne.
I got my wish. Rand managed to push a foot into my still sensitive groin. There was a flash of pain. I let go of the bastard.
There was this stupid look of triumph on his face and his manic eyes looked at me through his wet, oversize glasses, oddly still on his face. He was that puppet, that weird kids show puppet gone mad, having to take one last moment to savor the pain of the loser, deluded opinion though it was. He turned to swim away, not hearing the engine, not seeing that the stern of the boat had drifted around towards us, he turned and took a stroke with his right arm, throwing his hand right into the spinning prop. The four blades caught him and sucked him up, chopping the arm up to the arm pit, getting his head and mangling it into nothing but splattered bone, brain and blood. The rest of the body was spun up, over, away, then hit the water with a red-tinged splash and slowly sank.
Anne popped up with York, both gasping for air, much too close to the prop.
“Look out!” I screamed. She saw the danger and moved away, dragging York with her. The boat moved in the opposite direction.
Anne looked around her. Ragged flesh floated in red stained water. “Ewww! What’s this?”
“Rand,” I answered. “He met with a boating accident. ”
Anne looked around again and figured out the situation. “Ewww!”
“Well—he said it was a mean prop. ”
Chapter 21
The Final Say
A small flotilla of Lake Patrol boats got to and surrounded us. I saw the Captain. “Roee?”
“He’s okay. We picked him up. He’s back at the house now with the medical crew. ”
York was being pulled into one of the boats. “And The Switch?”
“Well Roee is done. We had to shoot the deputy in the leg to make a match though. ”
“Double his pay and reimburse the county for medical. ”
“Okay—Here’s yours. ”
A nude male deputy approximately my height and build jumped into the water next to me, then a nude blonde female deputy jump in by Anne. I started to strip and instructed Anne to do the same.
“What?” Anne asked, disbelieving.
“These fine servants of the people are going to get the credit for stopping Rand. Strip, give her your clothes. ”
“Are you kidding? Do you know the publicity I could get out of this? Do you know what this could do for my career?”
“It would be bad publicity. Strip. ”
“Fixxer, there is no such thing as bad publicity. ”
“In your business. In my business there is no such thing as good publicity. Strip. ”
“I’m not in your business. ”
“You are now. ”
“But… ?”
“Loved every moment of it, didn’t you?”
“Well, yes, but… ”
“Strip. ”
We stripped, and then handed our clothes over to our surrogates and they started the difficult process of dressing underwater.
We were pulled into the Captain’s boat and quickly wrapped in blankets. The flotilla headed back to the Chateau de la Lune. Once dry, we both put on the deputy uniforms of our doppelgangers.
“Captain?” Anne asked. “Imelda?”
“The maid?”
“Yeah. ”
“She’s in critical condition, but already on her way to the hospital. I’m sure she’s being well taken care of. ”
“Keep us informed. ” I said. “We’ve decided to adopt her. ”
*
At the house they had Roee patched up. “It’s okay,” he said. “Didn’t touch the bone. But damn, that lake is cold. ”
“I’ll send you to a hot springs for your vacation. ”
“Paid?”
“Of course. Generously. ”
“You’re a good man, Charlie Brown. ”
“Please. I’ve told you never to use my real name. ” I started to walk away, to confer more with the Captain.
“Fixxer” Roee said, stopping me.
I turned back to him. “Yeah?”
“You are a good man. ”
“Yeah. Good at what I do. ”
*
They had a Town Car for us with tinted windows. Anne offered to drive.
“Neither of you guys is in the best of conditions. Why should I put my life in your hands? Roee, in the back, you can stretch out that leg. Fixxer, shotgun. ”
We did as she ordered without protest. It’s not that long of a drive from Arrowhead to L. A. , only about two hours. Roee and I slept the whole way. Like babies.
*
Three days later we all gathered at my place for dinner. Catered. Roee deserved a break.
“I never thought of that!” Petey was saying. “Someone going for your groin! Guess I’m just not vicious enough! Did it really hurt!?”
“I’d be happy to demonstrate. ”
“No thanks! I’d like mine to
get a little more use before abuse!”
“Petey,” the Captain said.
“What!?”
“You are one sick puppy. ”
“Yeah, well—!”
“Petey,” Roee got his attention.
“Yeah!?”
“Eat your food. It’s getting cold. ”
“Ahhh,” Petey protested but dug into the goat cheese tart before him.
“Fixxer,” the Captain asked. “Was Rand mad?”
“Mad? No. Just overly proactive, if I may use a God-awful current cliché,” I responded. “What had fallen into his lap was what any man used to power in one aspect of life, used to forming opinions of how things should be—which every human creature does—and used to having those opinions become fact—which few human creatures get to experience—what had fallen into his lap was what such a person truly desires: To have that same command over other aspects of life. Rand was the kind of man who didn’t mind collaborating as long as he had the final say. That’s not hard to understand. It’s a description you could apply to me without error. Such a proclivity, though, demands an attendant arrogance that you can do well with that final say. Arrogance is not a rare commodity in Hollywood, or anywhere else for that matter. But its justification is. People hate arrogant people who have, by their actions, never justified that arrogance. But they hate even more those who have.
“Rand had gotten tired of Hollywood quite a while back. Because of the way he was he didn’t fit well in the corporate environment of the major studios, and he knew that that environment had taken too deep a root to change. He was lucky to have found a place with Engstrand, a good entrepreneurial immigrant who knew how to profit by Rand’s arrogance. And he treated Rand well. But still, it wasn’t enough. He had to answer to another. And, no matter how big NewVue grew, it would never have a magical name or history like those of MGM; Paramount; 20th; Universal. You’ve got to remember, Rand started as a film buff, a particularly virulent disease.
“How did EarthPeople figure in all this?” Anne asked.
“At first it was just something to expend excess energy, a cause to give him recognition on another level. He was excited, like everybody else, about the fall of Communism and the New World Order. He wanted to be a part of it. It was trendy. But as he traveled around the world, talked to people, saw the real problems out there, especially the breakdown of order in the former Communist states, putting that together in his mind with all the ‘Business as usual’ propaganda about Washington, he suddenly saw the value of strong leadership, which was natural to his thinking. But being a good Hollywood liberal, he had previously had no idea you could seriously entertain a non-democratic outlook. He kept his feelings to himself, of course, and probably just determined to build EarthPeople into a powerful organization that would give him a platform from which he could have at least some impact on world affairs. After all, what more could he have expected?
Blood is Pretty Page 30