28. March 24th

MARCH 24TH

Waters

The actorsand crew had been filming for eleven days. For the most part, it had gone smoothly, but Big Bird's presence on the set definitely brought continual increasing tension. In the last day or two, he had been disappearing for short intervals back to the house. Last night, he took a Jeep into Coxen Hole, refusing to have one of the locals hired to maintain vehicles drive him in. Nemo had been on "Birdwatch," but there wasn't anything to report. The producer had gone to a bar at the main hotel in town, had a few drinks, talked to no one, and returned to the house in the early morning hours.

Waters turned to look at Kubrick and saw her using a Jeep hood as a desktop, rifling through her Backpack of Death. She was struggling with it as she had a huge handful of loose papers in her left hand, allowing her only the right to go through the remaining contents.

Waters grabbed the stack in her hands. "What's wrong?"

"I can't find the invoices for the ammunition," she said, diving back inside the backpack. "I need to order some additional squibs and caps, but with my new laptop back at the house, I have to call to order them, and that means I need an invoice for my contact's number and the inventory numbers. I could have sworn I ordered twice the number we have, and when I spoke to the company yesterday, they claimed that amount was sent. But they're nowhere to be found." She huffed in frustration. "The last thing I need right now is to get hung up in filming because I'm out of ammunition."

Waters leafed through the papers. "I checked in those materials myself since they are connected to the weapons. Are you sure the invoices aren't here? Could they be with the crates?"

"I thought of that since we opened everything and counted to verify it was all there. But that doesn't help. The crates aren't here either."

"What do you mean they're not here?"

"I mean, they've vanished. We loaded them on the plane and unloaded them when we got here, but now they're nowhere. I sent Christoff earlier for some additional product, and that's when we discovered they were gone."

His brow furrowed. "What would someone want with squibs and caps? It's not like they're useful to anyone other than a special effects crew."

Kubrick shook her head and grabbed the invoices out of his hands, shoving them back into her bag. "Down here, anything can be worth money on the black market if you can find the right buyer. But it is damn odd. I trust my crew. I've worked with almost all of them on my past two films, and I'd swear every one of them is trustworthy. If someone were in money trouble, they'd be more likely to tell me because they know I'd help them out. There'd be no reason to steal from the inventory to sell for quick cash."

Glancing at her, his heart stuttered. "You'd help them out?"

Without looking at him, she shrugged her shoulders as if it were no big deal. "Everyone runs into trouble at some point. My crew is my family. Besides, it's just money."

"What kind of money are we talking about?"

Still rifling through her backpack, "Well… Cindy, you know, the new girl with the dog? I paid the vet bill. She's new to L.A. and is living on another crew member's couch right now." Kubrick picked up her head and stared into the distance. "Then Gerald's wife needed some special treatment for cancer last year. Their insurance is shit, and she hadn't worked in almost two years, so…"—she went back to her bag—"I helped them out with that."

"I'm guessing that's not the end of the ‘help' you've offered."

"I've maybe helped with some college tuition and other medical bills." She blushed. "You take care of the people you care about."

Waters shook his head, then stepped forward. An arm wrapped around her shoulders, and a quick kiss brushed the top of her ball cap. "Yes. Yes, you do."

She's so easy to love.

And there was that word. He'd been avoiding it, trying not to even think about it to himself. Now, it was too late. If he hadn't already known who she was and how perfect she was, this would have proven it. He was lost.

She huffed in frustration. "This just chaps my ass. Where the hell is the inventory? And where are the damn invoices? I know my backpack rivals the Bermuda Triangle, but I always know where everything is in my chaos."

"Maybe Big Bird moved them when he was messing with your desk a while back?"

"Normally, I would agree that his pawing through the paperwork would mess up my pseudo-filing system, but I've seen the invoices since then, and the crates were all there two days ago. This just doesn't make any sense."

"We'll find them, even if I have to dig through the entire warehouse myself."

"I hope you're right."

That afternoon,more things were discovered to be missing. An entire case of latex for making wounds, plus the entire shipment of fake blood. Several cases of lamps for the lighting system. Bolts of canvas and material for extra fatigues. A hundred boxes of batteries for the comm systems the actors used. And those were just the things they knew about. Kubrick was extremely frustrated, so she sent the actors with the second unit director to do some cover material while she supervised a recount of all the materials in storage.

Big Bird stood by on a catwalk, watching her like a hawk waiting on a telephone line to swoop down on unsuspecting prey.

Waters shook his head in disgust. The guy was really something. He had heeded Waters' warning about not being welcome in the War Room, but that just made him more of an asshole everywhere else. He always seemed to be five steps behind Kubrick at all times, complaining to all and sundry about the conditions as well as belittling her every decision. At one point, even Vixen lost her cool.

"Kubrick, I can't work with that man on the set! I'm sorry, I don't mean to be a bitch or create problems, but he won't stop staring at me, he's always making snide remarks, and he keeps trying to touch me."

Kubrick put an arm around the girl and pulled her off to the side. "You're not a problem, Vixen. If he's making you uncomfortable, then I'll have Waters escort him off the set. I'll tell him he's not welcome."

The starlet's eyes were full of tears. "I don't want to make trouble for you. He's such an asshole already. And don't play the party line, Kubrick. We hear how he talks to you. Enigma would have intervened for you if he hadn't known that Waters is with you every minute. I'll never work on another one of his pictures." She gently wiped her eyes, trying to keep her makeup from streaking. "That is unless you were directing," she added shyly. "We all love working for you. I've got to admit to a serious girl crush."

Waters put his arm around her from the other side. "She is pretty mesmerizing, isn't she? I've got a pretty serious crush myself." He winked at Kubrick.

She rolled her eyes, laughing, and Waters felt a burst of something come from his chest. His woman was amazing. She inspired a lot of love and loyalty from both the cast and crew. It made Big Bird's reaction to her even more perplexing. He knew the man appeared to hate women, other than as conquests, but what could she have done to provoke such venom from the man? Granted, he was a dick of the first water whether he was around her or not, but there seemed to be no motivation for his vitriol toward her.

The worst blow came the next morning. Demon, hiding out as the film's medic, had to call in a series of sick crew members and had to escort two of them into the hospital in Coxen Hole. Somehow, the catering company became the source of a rash of food poisoning victims. Luckily, none of the actors had breakfast with the crew, as Brick usually made breakfast for everyone.

"A whole day lost filming. Goddammit!" Kubrick threw her clipboard across the room, papers scattering all over the floor. "Big Bird is going to have a stroke. He was already having a shit fit when I pulled myself from filming yesterday to inventory. Now today, we have to shut down because my entire camera crew and twenty others are puking their guts out and living in all available bathrooms."

"He can have all the fits he wants to. Your crew is down for the count. You didn't make them sick."

Her eyes were glittering with rage. "No, but someone did. And I'm sorry, Waters, but I don't for one moment think this is a coincidence. Too many disasters are striking all at once and all since shit-for-brains came down here."

Waters went to her side, gathered her into his arms, and sat in the desk chair. "Baby, relax. He's unlikely to sabotage his own film. Why would he do that? It doesn't make sense considering the amount of money he'd lose, and if you'd calm down, you'd see that for yourself."

"The film is insured. He'd recoup his investment if it went down. Wouldn't be the first time a producer tanked a production to get his money back. You seriously don't think this is all too convenient?"

Waters brushed stray hairs behind her ears, then drew the backs of his fingers down her cheek. "I think it's too early to make accusations." His eyes held hers tightly while he emphasized the final three words.

But, yeah, baby. I think these missing items and sick crew are way too convenient. Just can't have you attacking Big Bird.

"Look," he continued. "You can still film. You know how to use the camera, right?" She nodded. "Then let's grab your list of contingencies and see what we can film off of that until your crew can get back on set."

Kubrick threw her arms around Waters' neck and hugged him tight. "So fucking perfect," she whispered in his ear. "I was so busy throwing a shit fit I didn't think of that. Thank you."

He smiled as he hugged her tightly. Damn, he loved this woman. Lilac scent, Dodgers gear, swear words, passionate highs and lows, and all. "I've got you, baby. I've always got you."