by Tonya Muir
"No, but we could use that for the sidebar lead. First we have to report the takeover and Sam’s shooting. I sure hope that Olson got good footage at the gate. If not, I’m gonna whip his orange-haired ass."
Kels chuckles, "He has orange hair on his ass?"
I scowl, but she is unaffected. "You know what I meant. Now, try again."
She salutes, "Yes, sir!" Once again, she concentrates for a long moment. "How’s this for the teaser: ‘Violence and death erupted today in a quiet community that was originally created to provide a safe haven for the abused and abandoned of our society. KNBC was on the scene when social consciousness confronted social violence. The result of that confrontation is our Exposure feature for the evening.’"
"Good." I like it, a lot. "And with any luck, not that we’ve experienced a helluva lot so far, the random footage I got from either the micro cam or the beta will support it. Now, what do you want for the lead?" It’s nice to see her relaxed again. She’s in her element now, telling the story. Give the woman a little space, a little light, and a breaking news story and she’s just fine. I idly wonder how many of our competitors are camped out there alongside the National Guard. Wonder what type of odds they’re giving us. Olson better be smart enough to put down some money for me.
Kels’ voice interrupts my thoughts. "’In a quiet community outside of Omaha, Nebraska, created to provide a sanctuary for those who were cast out, abused and abandoned by society, the very violence that the founders of "The Chosen Family" tried to escape emerged today with tragic results. Exposure came here to look at a different kind of cult, one created to protect people from the violence and hatred that plagues our society today. But a small faction of dissatisfied residents staged a violent coup, killing founder Sam Stevenson right in front of Exposure’s cameras.’"
"If it bleeds, it leads," I reply. "Nice."
The door opens and Scamp is staring down at us again. I get to my feet and help Kels up as well. No way in hell are we going to be on our knees in front of this son of a bitch. Kelsey takes her customary position, right next to me. You know, I kinda like that.
"Feeling better, blondie?"
"It’s Ms. Stanton to you, jerk off," she growls. Guess she has decided to join me in our little game of defiance. Work does wonders for her disposition.
"I’ll take that as a yes." He looks to me. "You give us airtime and your little friend can go."
"I’m staying," Kels responds immediately. "We’re a team. We came in together and we’ll leave together."
"Suit yourself."
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."
Bringing her here was stupid. I’m going to find my friend at the bar and beat the ever-lovin’ hell out of him when we get home.
Kelsey doesn’t say anything. She simply bends at the waist and retrieves my backpack, thrusting it into my hands. "Hurry back, Tabloid. I’ll be practicing the lead while you’re gone."
"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.
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.
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.
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.
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."
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.
Olson turns around and places the requested items in the backpack.
"Now some fresh batteries," I prompt.
He frowns. "They don’t have electricity in there?" He knows as well as I do that my battery pack has an a/c adapter. All I needed to do was plug it in and it’d be good to go again pretty quickly. Kinda like my sex drive, but I digress.
"They do. But not much brain power."
"Great. Idiots with guns."
"Is there any other kind?"
"Harper, any chance you bring these tendencies out in people?" He asks this in all seriousness. "I mean, there was that actor guy, and then that library lady, and now a cult …"
"I know. At least religion used to be safe from me. Lord knows, the Catholic church tossed me out on my ass years ago."
He chuckles. "Be careful. You’re the best education I’ve ever had."
"Hell, I know that, Jims. They don’t teach you a fuckin’ thing in film school." I am ready to go back, but it sure would be nice to take a weapon or two with me. "Hey, we still carry the Capstun?"
"Hurry up over there!" Shit-for-brains calls out.
"One second!" I reply, resisting giving him the finger.
"The pepper spray?"
I roll my eyes. "Just announce it out loud, kid."
"Shit! Sorry, boss." He looks like he might cry.
"It’s okay, Olson. Just slip it in the pocket of your jacket."
He does, but frowns. "Why my jacket?"
"Because Kels is cold." I hold out my hand for the bomber jacket. He bought one exactly like mine after we started working together. He’s a sweet kid.
"Tell her ‘hi’ for me."
I take the coat and fold it over my arm. I gotta remember to palm the pepper spray out of the pocket before they search it. If they’re bright enough to think to do that. "I will, Jims. You just watch your back out here. And no giving interviews. We cover the news, we don’t make it."
We look at each other for a long moment and then burst into laughter. "Yeah, right, Harper. Kick some ass."
"Will do, Olson. See ya in a few." I turn around to face the dipshit. Something in my gut tells me to get back to Kels and get back now. I move quickly and walk right past him to the gate. I look back at the moron who just now seems to register that I’m walking away from him. "You coming?" I quirk my brow at him. "Or would you rather take your chances with the cops?"
He juts out his stupid little jaw and motions with his gun. Great conversationalists, these guys. As I move back inside the compound, I can see that the women and children are being moved to a barn behind the house. God, I hope the cops are getting this from their vantage point. Climbing the steps to the building where they are keeping Kels, I hear the rotors of a helicopter and know at least the National Guard must have that information now.
Standing outside the door to our current accommodations, I try to wait patiently for dumbass to get the door open but he can’t seem to handle the gun and the keys at the same time. I could take the gun away from him, but that would only cause trouble. So, I snatch the keys instead.
"Stupid son of a bitch," I mumble as I open the door, dropping the keys to the floor outside the door. I step inside and close the door behind me. I’m not inviting him in. "Hi, Honey, I’m home," I call out.
I put my bag down and lift my head to find Kels with my Twinkie, licking the filling from … Oh God! What I wouldn’t give to be a little yellow sponge cake.
* * *
I hear the key in the lock. Instinctively, I know Harper is back. I can feel it, feel her. Given my current state, I have two choices: admit that I was worried about … eh … without her, or torture my partner. I know she’ll forgive me for torturing her; I would never forgive myself for admitting the other.
I pick up the Twinkies, remembering her comment about licking out the cream. I open the package and wait until I’m sure we’re going to be left alone. Then her eyes meet mine.
She thinks she can beat me at this game? I invented sexual frustration and have honed it to perfection over the years. After taking a small bite, I lick my lips and then take my finger and insert it slowly into the creamy center. I swirl it around, letting her see the effect of my finger on the spongy texture.
When I withdraw it, it is coated with the sugary nectar. I look at it for a long moment. Then, slowly, while watching her, insert it in my mouth. She groans and I can’t help but grin.
"Get everything you need?" I ask as I remove my finger from my mouth. Is that a slight tremor I see?
"Oh, don’t go there right now, Little Roo, especially with what we need to do," she growls at me as she steps forward.
I offer her a bite of the cake. "I’m sorry, Tabloid." She takes hold of my wrist and my eyes as she takes a long, slow bite. Oh Lord, well, we just might be evenly matched. "I … I needed to play a little, to break up the tension," I stammer.
"You call that breaking up the tension? Good God, woman, you’d kill a normal person in the bedroom." She drops her backpack to the ground and begins unzipping it. "Good
thing for you, I’m not a normal person."
I chuckle as I pop the last of the cake into my mouth and bend down to see what she’s brought back. I recognize the transceiver, pinhead mike and receiver. "What are these for?"
She smiles. "Ah, thanks for finding those, baby." Before I realize what is happening, she stands up and drops her jeans to the floor. I am now kneeling by her backpack staring at a mile’s worth of leg ending in a white thong.
"I … I …" I am going to pass out. "I always figured you for a boxer gal," I manage finally.
She laughs, low in her throat. "I didn’t know you thought about me in my underwear, Kels."
God, more than you know.
She then pulls the elastic of the waistband away from her skin and I nearly faint. I force myself to not crane my neck to get a good look down. I also refrain from offering to help.
Next thing I know, she is putting the transceiver down the front of her underwear.
Okay, I think my Twinkie trick just got its ass beat. "What are you gonna do if they search you?"
"Anyone who puts a hand there uninvited, loses their arm at the shoulder. Because I’ll rip it off and beat them with it."
"I’ll keep that in mind."
She shrugs as she unrolls the mike wire. "Oh, you have an open invitation."
She plugs in the lead to the pinhead mike and runs it up under her shirt, lifting her T-shirt as she goes. I watch with avid interest as the tanned flesh is revealed. Damn. She has six pack abs to die for. She pulls the front of her bra away from her skin and slides the mike under it. Letting the elastic snap back, it holds the mike in place for her, she secures it with a small piece of tape as well.
"Can you give me a hand?"
"I’ll give you two," I mutter, giving serious consideration to that invitation.
She tsk’s and then spins around offering me her broad back. "Run the receiver lead up for me?"
I take the dangling earpiece and run the wire around her hip, holding it in place with my left hand as my right hand pulls it though the elastic of that thong and then up her spinal column. I hit the edge of her rolled up shirt, and have to lift it up and slide my hand under to continue my path.
