by Frank Dorn
Then again, this wasn’t the only corner of the planet where men were fools. In fact, the male idiots were almost benign here. Except for the drugs and violence.
On cue, General Flores and Starbuck arrived. The General joined a small cluster of troops while Starbuck went out of his way to greet everyone. He began with the older women, moved on to flirt with the younger women.
And then there were the children. Starbuck carried a cloth sack and he started handing out candy like a tropical Santa. The kids flocked around him and Brandie thought he looked a bit like a kid himself. She had come to con him, to rip him off. Sadly, she was beginning to like him.
Half an hour later, and Akhim lounged at the head table, the General on one side, and Starbuck on the other. He was in his element, holding court, drinking, and bullshitting.
"You see a good love story is always built on misunderstanding. Maybe somebody pretends to be someone they're not, or maybe somebody overhears part of a conversation and misinterprets it, or they have a doppelganger, whatever. It doesn't matter.
"But the great love stories are built on rejection or betrayal, or both. That's the secret Hollywood has been guarding for almost a century. Maybe more. Excuse me, gentlemen."
Akhim rose and wove away. Starbuck shared a look with the General. "Do you have any idea what he is talking about?"
"No. But it does not signify. I am certain he has no idea what he is talking about either."
"That's a relief. I was hoping he would talk about action movies. I like those."
Brandie was making the rounds. Jose had brought a stack of photographs for her, and he was now turning the spits.
She made her way through the tables and benches filling the plaza. Smiling, she stopped to talk with everyone. Her laugh was easy, and she touched an elbow here, a shoulder there, and shook hands, handed out photos, and signed autographs with ease. The two men watched her.
"If Miss Kelani starred in a love story I would watch it."
“If she starred in a dog food commercial you would watch it. I would want to star in it."
“As the dog?”
“In the romance movie, which you already knew.”
"Get in line, and it is a long line I am sure."
"I would want final script approval of course."
"Naturally, but if you need a stand-in for the love scenes I would be happy to oblige."
The General laughed. "That is not necessary, believe me. That is one movie where I would do my own stunts."
"I wonder how they plan action movies."
"You wonder about strange things."
"I am trying to distract myself."
"Try harder. You need to distract me too."
Starbuck reached under the table and retrieved a fifth of Jack Daniel’s Monogram Tennessee Whiskey. "Will this do?"
The General took the unopened bottle and studied it, and handed it back. He reached under the table and brought out another bottle. "I prefer my scotch. The Macallan single malt. Aged twelve years in a sherry cask."
"May I try it?"
"But of course." General Flores opened the bottle and poured two generous glasses. They sipped in silence, watching Brandie.
Akhim was standing in a thicket upwind from the latrine trench. He was reading a Hollywood Reporter headline on his phone, “The Jungle Has Teeth pulled”. God he hated the clever headline writers. He knew their faux movie was dead, which did not bode well for his continued existence.
Earl Graham had personally killed the project in an interview with Graham News. That was it. After all these years, and all the troubles, Earl had finally washed his hands of Akhim. They were on their own. The magnitude of that truth left him almost breathless.
Brandie had been right. They were on their own. Every man – person – for themselves. Sighing he put his phone away and headed back to the party.
They were on their third glass when each man felt a hand clap on his shoulder.
"Did you miss me?" Akhim sat down between them. "Say that looks like good scotch. Not a bad choice at all. May I?" The General nodded and he poured himself a double, gulping the first mouthful. "Ahhhh... Now. Where was I? Yes, love stories. Here's the dirty little secret. Every movie, from horror to slapstick to western to war movie, every movie is a love story."
Starbuck rolled his eyes, finished his drink, and opened the bourbon. Akhim continued talking. Starbuck filled his glass, leaned back and offered the General the bottle.
The women shooed Jose away from the meat as they removed it from the spits hauled it off for final preparation. He headed for Brandie but was cut off by a pair of soldiers.
“Go away. You had her all day.”
“Give the rest of us a chance.”
Jose nodded, “I was just going to see if she needed anything.”
“If she needs something we’ll take care of it.”
The two soldiers were pushed from behind, and stumbled past Jose. Brandie was standing in their place, smiling at him.
“I wanted to thank you for the photos. You do think of everything.”
“Lea, it is very easy to think about you. May I escort you to the head table?”
She took his arm and he stood a little straighter. “So. How’s your day been?”
“Hmmm… I was up three hours before dawn, I’ve been shot at, berated, and beaten up by my fellow soldiers, then tossed about like a rag doll by a beautiful woman, and spent the last hour turning meat spits over a lava like barbecue pit. All in all it has been the best day of my life.”
Brandie’s laugh was genuine. She liked him too. Not the way he liked her, which made her sad, because she knew she would break his heart. On the other hand, from the looks he was getting from many of the young women present, at least he wouldn’t be lonely.
They arrived at the head table. Brandie turned to Jose. “Will you be joining us?”
He looked at his feet. “No. I have work to do, I’m afraid. Enjoy the festivities.”
He turned and fled. Had he stayed either Lea or Akhim might have made enough of a scene to force his uncle or Starbuck to invite him to join them. If that had happened, he would pay for it later.
He was better off alone. At least that was what he told himself as he rushed to get behind a house. Once there, he leaned against the wall and slid to the ground. At least no one would bother him here.
For a moment he closed his eyes and just breathed. He missed his princess Lea already, more so because she was so near. When he opened them again he saw two bare feet in front of him. They were dainty, pretty feet attached to pretty ankles. The of the legs were lost in a multi-colored skirt.
Eventually he noticed the beautiful smiling young woman standing in front of him. She held two plates heaped with food. She offered him one.
14. 14
Charlie and his driver stood together outside of Charlie’s apartment complex, watching as the rental truck pulled out of the parking lot.
“You know this isn’t what I was hired for.”
“Did I say what I was hiring you to do?”
“Well, no, but-”
“You were paid three bitcoins to come here and do as I asked and not ask questions.”
“And say nothing about the job but-”
“You ate two breakfast sandwiches and a breakfast burrito.”
“They ate twice that much.”
“They aren’t used to eating regularly.”
“How do you know?”
Charlie spun and faced the man. He looked decidedly unhappy. Unhappy and dangerous. “Because I know what hunger feels like. I’ve got one more job for you. It involves the boys.”
Here it comes. He was going to order the kids killed.
“I want you to drop them off at school.”
The driver laughed. Nothing more than a short bark, really. Then he schooled his face to appear perfectly neutral.
“And then?”
“You’re done. I’ll arrange to have them picked up after school. They nee
d to go shopping. Get new clothes, maybe a couple of smart phones and laptops, that sort of thing.”
“I can do that.”
Charlie stared at him. “I am not certain your experience would qualify you.”
The driver stared at his feet for some time before answering. “My name is William Freedman. I am married with two boys, both a bit younger than them. I’m an undercover cop and this was supposed to be a sting operation. I’ve never even fired my gun outside a practice range. You were supposed to try and get me to kill them, not take them into your home. Honestly you make a terrible criminal.”
Charlie was shocked. Then he laughed. He laughed until he doubled over. William laughed too. When they both caught their breath, wiped their eyes, and straightened up. Charlie put his hand on the cop’s shoulder. “I am sorry to disappoint you, William. Will you get in any trouble?”
“Call me Bill and yes I will be in a world of hurt.”
“I really am sorry.”
“The whole precinct is going to hear about this and tease me for months. “Is he a hardened criminal yet? Carry up another box, go out and get more sandwiches, drive the kids to school, maybe somebody will jay-walk.”
“Sounds awful.”
“The teasing will be worse than that but I frankly do not care. Thank you for restoring my faith in humanity.”
“Are you serious about picking the boys up after school?”
“Yes.”
Charlie pulled a credit card from his shirt pocket and handed it over. William turned it over in his hands. It was thicker than a usual credit card, and there was no name on it. “Will this work?”
Charlie laughed. “Don’t worry William, it is legal and it will work unless you try to buy a private jet. Then I’ll have to up the credit limit.”
“For the last time, call me Bill. What are your plans for the day?”
“I am going to help their father find a job.”
“You’re a Goddam awful Dark Web gangster.”
“And you’re a Goddam awful undercover policeman. Even I know you’re a cop and I’m a criminal.”
~*~
Earl Graham slouched in the back of his limousine, a glass of scotch in his hand. Today he had accomplished exactly nothing, and he understood even less than he knew about what he’d done for the day, which was saying something.
Charlie was still offline, He had killed a movie that had never been approved, for which no script existed, and which had cost him nothing more than a splitting headache and an aching gut. He still didn’t understand when, how, or why the fiction had been created.
He sipped his drink and found the glass empty. Drat. He poured himself another. He never had two drinks on his way home. Oh well, today was special.
His cell phone buzzed. Who the hell was calling him? He didn’t want to know and briefly considered ignoring the call but it wasn’t in his nature to shirk unpleasant tasks. Sighing he set down his drink and fished out his phone.
“Hello Earl Graham here.”
“Do you have any access to a helicopter in the vicinity of the Peru Ecuador Columbia border? Asking for some friends.”
“Hello Charlie, I’ve had a perfectly shitty day. Thanks for asking.”
“Really. I’ve been attacked, nearly run over, burglarized, had my computer network compromised and nearly destroyed and I was tracked by the police.”
Earl finished his second drink and poured a third. “I’m sorry. Yours was worse. Is this about Akhim and Brandy?”
“For now it’s Akhim and Lea, and yes it is.”
“What can I do to help?”
“Fire your secretary.”
“That cannot happen.”
“Dammit.”
“In the first place, she knows as much about Graham Enterprises as I do. Probably more. Secondly I like her. My father and grandfather liked her too, and we all prize loyalty above all else. Finally, whatever trouble you three have gotten yourselves into is really no fault and frankly no concern of hers. That said, what exactly did she do that has your panties in a twist?”
Charlie sighed. “She thought that canceling The Jungle Has Teeth would get the drug gang and Bolivian army division that are currently holding Brandie and Akhim to let them go.”
“Bolivia doesn’t border either Peru or Ecuador.”
“No duh. It’s Starbuck’s orders.”
“The coffee company?”
“No the drug lord. Are you listening to me?”
Earl finished his drink. “I am trying.”
“Starbuck is the nickname Juan Valdez uses. He is the drug lord in question. He hired a military unit to protect his operation. Between Brandie, Akhim, and I, we managed to get the manufacturing plant guards and the soldiers to start shooting at each other. Akhim and Brandie were trapped in the crossfire and Brandie came up with the fake movie scheme to get them to stop shooting. It worked but there have been … complications.”
Earl pinched his nose. “Do I have to ask the president to stir up more international incidents so I can employ you and keep you busy and more or less out of trouble?”
There was a moment of silence. “Could you do that and would he do it?”
Earl poured his fourth drink.
~*~
Charlie sat at a dining room table with Chuck, Chuck Jr., and Jim. The table was covered with empty containers of Chinese takeout. Charlie leaned back in his chair.
“It sucks to be poor. I’ve been poor and I’ve done things to survive I’m not proud of. I’m not poor any more. I’ll tell you now you’re lousy at being criminals but you’re good at being a family and I respect that. I’d like to help.”
Chuck Senior wiped his eyes. “I don’t deserve it, but we’ll take any help you’re willing to give. This is my fault, not theirs. All I can say is I’m desperate and I am so, so sorry.”
“We are too.” Jim added. Chuck Junior nodded.
Charlie laughed. “I’m not. Bill, the other guy with me – us, last night is a cop. I’d hired him off the dark web to drive. He thought I wanted him to kill you and was going to arrest me. I didn’t do that, and now we’re friends, sort of. I’m not pressing charges against you and neither is he so that’s good. Jim has some computer talent. I think with a little instruction and encouragement he would make a good assistant.
“I don’t drive, and physically I’m not that strong. Chuck and Chuck, would you two be willing to help with that?”
“I will,” said Chuck Senior, “but my son’s on the wrestling and cross country teams.”
Charlie leaned back. “I expect both kids will be in school. Is this apartment in the right school district?”
The kids looked down. Charlie smiled. “So we’ll move. Hey look on the bright side – you’ve had a lot of practice.”
15. 15
“Is Anyone In Charge Here?”
“Entertainment Juggernaut Floundering”
“What Next At Graham?”
“Is Graham Enterprises Headed For The Breaker’s Dock?”
The headlines were bad. The articles were worse and yet they all focused on the same thing: The Jungle Has Teeth. The movie that never was and never would be. This was all Charlie’s fault. Well, to be fair, it was Charlie and Akhim and Brandie and Betty’s fault.
At least they hadn’t involved the President, Petty Security, or Stetson Culp.
Earl’s intercom crackled to life. His secretary used it only in emergencies. “The President is on line one.”
“Does he sound happy?”
“No he does not. Also Trace Petty wants your okay on an extraction from South America.”
“Does the extraction involve Brandie and Akhim?”
Betty didn’t respond, which was answer enough for Earl. “Just don’t send Culp.” He answered the phone. “Hello Billy, how’s the sideshow going?”
“What the hell are you doing?”
Earl rubbed his forehead. “I’m sitting at my desk up to my elbows in disasters and dreaming of a tropical va
cation where upstart world leaders can’t pick up the phone and add to my misery.”