Page 39 of Jace 4Ever
“The cameras all just died,” the camera man said.
“Just died? What do you mean?”
“I mean there’s no functional camera.” He tapped the top of the box. “I can’t even get it to power on.”
“Me neither,” called the other camera man.
“I called,” Marilyn said, moving back in to stand next to me. “They’re on their way. They said five to eight minutes.” She caught sight of the panic on the set. “What did you do?”
“Killed the power to the cameras.”
“Nice,” she said.
The girl on the bed was trembling still, but they had walked away from her to see what was going on with the cameras. I was mentally counting time on the five to eight minutes Marilyn had given me.
The cuts on the woman’s arms were bleeding badly and there was a straight razor on the bed where the actor had left it. Was he really an actor? Or was he a murderer for hire? I had never seen him before, and he certainly wasn’t the normal look that Denis went for as a lead. Even a film like this, he went for someone with a more polished look.
These were the times I wished I had Smoke on speed dial. He just changed his number too often, but his advice would go a long way.
“I want to go and help her,” Marilyn said.
“You can’t,” I whispered. “Not yet. Just hold on.”
The camera crew was still fighting at the cameras and Denis was getting more pissed by the second. The actor was just standing there, arms folded, looking like the mafia soldier he was.
Hell.
This was a hit.
I finally started to hear sirens in the distance. Marilyn let out a long breath and relaxed a little bit.
I tensed. If this was a hit, we were in deep shit.
The sirens got closer, and I could see the ‘actor’ perk up. He glanced at the main entrance, and then swung his attention to the back door. He looked at the girl on the bed, the cameramen, and Denis, unfolded his arms and marched out the back.
At least he hadn’t looked at me and Marilyn as he left.
The sirens started to pierce the air around us in the warehouse, and I let out a breath. Denis looked up, startled, and looked around.
“Shit! Where did he go?”
“He left, Denis,” someone called from the other side of the warehouse.
“Goddamn it!” He looked at the girl on the bed. “Medic! Where the fuck is the medic!”
Amber came scrambling out of the darkness near the main door where she usually sat. She had her gear with her and both Marilyn and I let out a sigh of relief.
Less than a minute later, four NYPD officers kicked in the main door and strode in with guns drawn, screaming for all of us to get down.
This drill I knew. I nudged Marilyn, and we both lay down on the floor with our hands clasped on our heads. It was going to be a very long night.
