by Lee Goldberg
That was too much. She vomited on the floor, her stomach heaving until she thought she might pass out again. But she regained control over her spasming muscles and opened her eyes.
Neither Otto or Burt seemed to have noticed her intestinal upset, they were so completely absorbed in the picture.
''This is the best one yet," Otto said. "I reek suave."
"You do," Burt agreed.
Her stomach purged, Sabrina suddenly felt better, her mind sharper, and she began to regain her bearings. The last thing she remembered was going to take a shower, and having the sensation someone else was in the house. Then there was an enormous crash, and she dived to the floor. The walls caved in on her and that was the last thing she saw before waking up here.
Wherever here was.
She took in her surroundings. It was a mobile home. Centerfolds were stapled to the walls, and the floors were littered with fast-food containers, beer cans, and potato chip bags. The furniture was ravaged, and the TV set looked like it was stolen from Ozzie and Harriet's living room.
Sabrina did a mental inventory of her body. She felt a little bruised, and there was a cut somewhere on her head, but she was certain she hadn't been raped or sodomized, which was a tremendous relief. She preferred not to imagine what else they might have done with her while she was unconscious. Her feet felt numb, and she couldn't move her legs. She glanced down to discover her ankles wrapped together in duct tape. She was a prisoner.
"Take a look at this." Otto held the picture in front of her face. "Don't I look debonair?"
Sabrina thought very carefully about what to say. "Yes, you do."
Otto seemed genuinely pleased. "We're on our way to the top," he predicted to Burt. Sabrina concentrated on squeezing any fear out of her voice. "I don't mean to sound rude, but what am I doing here?"
"Promotion," Burt said.
"For Sunn of a Gunn," Otto added. "We have to show the network we're twice as good as George Hamilton."
"I see." Sabrina realized she was being held by two dangerous lunatics. The good news was that so far she hadn't been hurt. Humiliated and degraded, yes, but she could live with that. After all, she was an actress. "So you're actors."
Otto and Burt shared a proud grin.
"Not yet," Burt said, "but soon."
"I'm an actress, so that makes us colleagues," Sabrina said.
Colleagues. Otto liked the way it sounded. Very classy. Very suave. "That's us, a couple colleagues," he said.
"Suave and debonair colleagues," Burt corrected.
"Well, since we're all members of the acting fraternity, do you think you could untie me?" Sabrina asked. "I sure would love to go home and clean up."
"We can't do that," Burt said.
"Why not?" Sabrina asked.
"For one thing, your home kind of fell down," Otto explained. "And we need you for rehearsals."
"We got to practice being classy dudes," Burt said to Sabrina, who was getting dizzy again from the sheer insanity of it all.
The phone rang. Otto shared a look with Burt. "This could be our future calling."
Otto excitedly answered the phone. Sure enough, it was Eddie Planet.
"Great work today," Eddie said. "Really exceptional job. I think we're on track."
Eddie was wearing clean clothes and was feeling a little better now that Delbert's gun wasn't pointed at his head anymore. But not much. Delbert was still in the house, dressing his wounds and finding some of Eddie's stuff to wear.
"Now we have to find a sophisticated writer," Otto said. "Someone who can capture all the nuances of our personalities."
"Stephen King," Burt suggested.
For once, Eddie had to agree. If anyone was going to capture their personalities, it would be him.
"Steve-o is on board, guaranteed," Eddie replied. "Look, guys, there is one little thing. You wouldn't have Sabrina Bishop over there, would you?"
"Yeah, she's been helping us get into character."
Eddie shuddered at the images that conjured up. "Bring her to the studio at nine o'clock tonight."
"Why?"
"Because she's going to be your co-star in Sunn of a Gunn," Eddie vamped. "The network is wild about her and they are desperate to do a screen test with the three of you tonight, in Times Square."
"Cool," Otto said.
"A word of advice—you don't want to hurt or molest her in any way." Then Eddie remembered Otto's previous remark. "You haven't, have you?"
"No, all we did was take some promo shots."
"Good, your future in show business depends on it," Eddie said firmly. "I'll see you tonight. Don't be late."
Otto hung up and gave Burt the high-five. Sabrina watched, dumbfounded, as they did their little dance. A soft-shoe, a patty-cake, two jumping jacks, and then a quick spin into their Saturday Night Fever pose.
"Too cool for words," Otto and Burt said in unison, then turned and smiled at Sabrina. For the first time since she'd regained consciousness and retched her guts out, she feared for her life.
# # #
McGarrett lifted his leg on the Robokiller. The giant, alien soldier hid behind a scaled-down skyscraper, waiting for his remote control cue to smash the building, fire a few rockets from his head, and make the audience go wild.
But the audiences were long gone, and the only ones left were Charlie and McGarrett, who lurked behind the towering steel monster, killing time until the exchange. Charlie had arrived early to commit a burglary, and get comfortably settled in. His life, and Sabrina's, could depend on every move he made now.
He glanced down at McGarrett, who kicked some dirt over his mark and sniffed it to make sure it was sending a strong message. Charlie was pleased with McGarrett. Emilia the dog groomer had done a fantastic job. McGarrett had never looked worse. Mangy, smelly, ratty, everything that Boo Boo ever was, a dead ringer for the decapitated hell pooch. Unfortunately, McGarrett was also a lot bigger.
Charlie was banking on a few things being in his favor—darkness, distance, and the probability that Delbert Skaggs and Eddie Planet had never seen Boo Boo up close. If Charlie was wrong, he had one other option literally up his sleeve, stolen from the Global Armageddon control booth just a few minutes ago.
Now it was just a question of waiting.
# # #
Otto and Burt, carrying a trunk between them, emerged from the Pinnacle Studios service tunnel, up the subway station steps and into the center of Times Square.
They stood in the darkness for a moment, soaking up the elaborate illusion. The famous neon signs and diamond screens were off, but the place was still striking in its authenticity, despite being compressed into roughly two acres.
The first three floors of every building in Times Square had been reproduced in three-quarter scale, and had been used in just about every series Pinnacle Studios had ever made. The TV shows shot everything tight and low, while the feature films threw money into fancy matte photography to add the tops of the buildings, streets in the distance, and hundreds of cars.
Standing here brought fond memories to Otto and Burt. There wasn't a window here they hadn't crashed through, a rooftop they hadn't tumbled from, or a storefront they hadn't driven into.
But those days were gone. They were stars now. The two of them, and the woman in the trunk, were going to be America's favorite threesome.
Eddie Planet walked out of the Lindy's Deli facade, a nervous smile on his face, to see the two charred stuntmen standing in their tuxedos, the large wardrobe trunk between them.
"Glad you boys could make it. Love the tuxedos, very nice touch."
"Where's the camera crew?" Otto asked.
"They're running late." Eddie looked around anxiously. "Where's the girl?"
Otto and Burt unlatched the trunk and pulled it open. Sabrina tumbled out, dishevelled and sweat-soaked in her negligee, gasping for breath. Her wrists were lashed together behind her with duct tape, and although her legs were free, Eddie could see bruises around her ankles whe
re they had been bound.
"I see you've shown her your usual hospitality," Eddie remarked with disdain, but apparently Burt didn't pick up on it.
"We got some pictures," Burt replied excitedly, reaching into his jacket for them.
"No thanks." Eddie waved Burt off. ''That won't be necessary."
Sabrina struggled to clear her head and catch her breath. There might be only one chance to make a break for it, and she wanted to be ready.
"So what are we gonna do first?" Otto asked.
"Find a new hand," said a voice behind them.
In that same instant, a bullet blew apart Otto's left hand, spraying his rented tuxedo with blood and bone fragments.
Eddie screamed and hit the ground, putting him eye to eye with Sabrina. When he saw the anger in her eyes, he wondered if he wasn't safer standing up.
Otto grabbed the remainder of his hand and whirled around to see Delbert Skaggs emerging from the darkness, holding his silenced gun.
Even cleaned up, Delbert wasn't pretty. His smashed nose hung over his scabby lips, and his head was so badly swollen, it looked lopsided.
"Now we're even." Delbert held up his gnarled hand to show them what he meant.
Otto was furious. "I didn't stomp on your hand." He motioned to Burt. "He did."
"My mistake." Delbert shrugged and shot Burt in the hand.
Burt yelped, the force of the bullet spinning him in a bloody pirouette.
The three men, standing there with their lopsided heads and maimed left hands, looked like brothers.
''Thanks a lot," Burt sneered at Otto, holding up his gushing stump. "How's this going to look on the screen test?"
"It's not my fault." Otto glared at Delbert. ''These are rented tuxedos, asshole. Now they're going to make us buy them."
Their hands were blown off, and they were worried about staining their clothes. They didn't even seem to feel the pain. It was the most astounding thing Delbert had ever seen, but he had no time to think about it. With luck they'd bleed to death before he had to kill them.
"Shut up and step away from the girl." Delbert motioned them away with his gun. He was going to kill these two jerks right here, and Eddie, Sabrina, and Charlie before the evening was out. The only thing keeping Eddie alive right now was that Delbert needed an extra hand with Sabrina.
Otto and Burt reluctantly moved to one side. Eddie and Sabrina lay motionless on the ground, splattered with blood. Delbert pointed at Eddie with his gun.
Eddie immediately covered his head with his arms, but before he could start to beg, Delbert spoke.
"Get her on her feet."
Eddie was so grateful to be alive he almost squealed. "Yes sir, right away," he said, scrambling to his feet.
He grabbed Sabrina under the arms and lifted her up. She glared at Eddie with such loathing he had to look away, so she shifted her gaze to Delbert, who didn't shrink away at all. In fact, he liked it.
"Since I seem to be so goddamn important here," said Sabrina, her confusion long since overcome by her fury, "you mind telling me what the hell this is all about?"
"Ratings," Delbert replied, shifting his attention to Eddie. ''Take her to Global Armageddon. I'll join you ill a few minutes."
"Unhand her," someone shrieked, "or I'll kill you all."
Everyone turned toward the voice, and what they saw horrified them.
# # #
McGarrett suddenly stood up, alert, his entire body stiff.
"What is it?" Charlie asked, not expecting an answer.
McGarrett sniffed the air, the hair rising on his back, and took two strong steps forward. Charlie stuck his hand through the loop of the leash and wrapped it once around his wrist.
"Take it easy, McGarrett," Charlie said firmly. "Relax."
The dog bolted, yanking Charlie off his feet, dragging him along the ground behind him, the rough gravel tearing at his body like tiny knives.
"Stop," Charlie yelled, rolling on his stomach and grabbing the leash with both hands, trying to regain control. It was futile. McGarrett ran at full clip, showing reserves of strength Charlie never guessed he had.
"McGarrett!" Charlie roared. "Stop!"
The dog dragged him out of Global Armageddon, through the Champs Elysées, and into Dodge City. Charlie struggled, but his arm was hopelessly tangled in the leash, and he didn't have the strength in his other arm, ravaged by Boo Boo, to put up much of a fight.
McGarrett seemed oblivious to him, the sedentary dog using every ounce of his being to charge toward Times Square.
Just as they were leaving the Old West and entering midtown Manhattan, the leash snapped. Charlie rolled to a stop, dazed and bloody, glancing up in time to see McGarrett running down 42nd Street, the torn leash trailing behind him.
# # #
Boyd Hartnell rose up on his knees, mud-caked and naked, his once glorious mane a tangled haven for fleas and ticks. Drool spilled out of his mouth, landing in gobs on Reed Roland's gun, which he held in his claw and pointed at Delbert Skaggs.
"Drop your gun," Boyd screeched, scratching his balls with his free hand.
Delbert complied. He made it a rule never to argue with a frothing, armed man scratching his filthy balls with inch-long fingernails.
Otto and Burt, their injuries momentarily forgotten, stared at this beast in utter fascination.
"It's Boo Boo," declared Otto, certain the celebrity mutt had somehow evolved into this hideous creature. "The whole studio must be radioactive."
Boyd turned his wild gaze on Eddie.
"She's mine," Boyd screeched. "Give her to me now."
Eddie immediately unhanded Sabrina, who stood for a moment, uncertain which fate was worse—remaining with this motley bunch, or going with the dogman.
"If I can't have you, Sabrina, no one will," Boyd yelled, then howled at the moon.
That was enough incentive for Sabrina. She was staggering toward him when McGarrett tore out of the darkness and tackled Boyd, knocking the gun from him.
Sabrina dived for Boyd's gun. Delbert dived for his. Otto kicked the gun out of Delbert's reach and Burt stomped on his hand, then on his head for good measure. Eddie threw himself down the subway steps into the access tunnel. And McGarrett lustily ravaged Boyd, the two of them tumbling down the sidewalk, howling, hair flying.
Sabrina caught the gun against her chest, sliding the weapon along with her into a storefront doorway. In one smooth, lightning-fast move, she jumped into the air, tucked up her legs, and swung her arms underneath her feet, bringing her lashed wrists in front of her. She snatched the gun, whipped around, and fired off two shots at Otto and Burt, who leapt behind a park bench for cover.
Otto and Burt were entertainment professionals. They knew the sound of blanks when they heard them. So did Sabrina. She tossed the gun and ran through the door into the next street on the other side.
Otto and Burt weren't going to let their babe get away. They ran after her, leaving a trail of blood in their wake.
Charlie staggered to his feet and saw Sabrina run toward Europe, followed a moment later by Otto and Burt. Furious, he charged off after them, wishing he had a gun.
She ran blindly down the streets, hearing her pursuers behind her. None of this made any sense to her. Who were these people? Why were they killing each other? What did they want with her? The only thing she understood was that, for whatever reason, she was fighting for her life. That was really all that mattered anyway.
Sabrina ran around a corner into Florence, Italy, and jumped through the open window of a cafe. She hunkered down and held her breath. A moment later, Otto and Burt scrambled past, on their way to Rome.
She closed her eyes and exhaled slowly, relieved. That's when someone reached through the window and clamped a bloody hand overher mouth. She bit him as hard as she could, freeing herself, whirling around to confront ... Charlie!
She was horrified, not only at having bit him, but by the way he looked. He'd obviously been through a terrible beating.
<
br /> "I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I thought you were one of the bad guys."
"Don't worry about it," he said, clutching his hand and grimacing with pain.
Charlie climbed through the window and she pulled him into a big hug.
"It's so good to see you." She pressed her face into his chest. "I didn't think I ever would again."
"We aren't out of this yet." He reluctantly pushed her away. "But we'll have a much better chance if at least one of us has both hands."
Charlie found the sharp point of a rusty nail sticking out of the wall, and led her over to it. While she used the nail to cut the duct tape around her wrists, Charlie explained, as best he could, what was going on. By the time he was through, she was free and red-faced with anger.
"I'll kill 'em," she said.
"You can kill them later," Charlie said. "Right now, let's concentrate on getting out of the park alive."
He peered out the door and, satisfied they were alone, took her by the hand and led her out. They were in the middle of the street when they both heard the growl of an engine.
"Run," Charlie yelled.
Behind them, a bashed GMC truck whipped around the corner, smashed into a fountain, and screeched across the cobblestones toward them. Otto drove, Burt yee-hawed.
Charlie knew there was no way they were going to outrun a truck. He grabbed Sabrina's hand and dragged her with him into the nearest facade.
Otto saw them and wrenched the wheel, charging directly into the row of fake buildings. The truck decimated the thin facades, plowing through them in a spray of splintered wood and stucco.
Florence destroyed, Otto spun the truck around in a swirl of dust.
"I never liked Italy," Burt said.
When the dust settled, they saw Charlie and Sabrina dashing across Dodge City into the Silver Dollar Hotel. Otto pressed the pedal to the floor. The GMC shot forward, tires smoking, toward Dodge City.