Games of State

CHAPTER SIX

Mr. Buba turned as he heard the voices from behind the trailer.

"…I'm one of those people who never has any luck," a woman was saying. Her voice was raspy and she was speaking quickly. "If I go to a store, it's right after a movie star has been there. If I'm at a restaurant, it's the day before a celebrity dines there. In airports, I miss them by minutes." Mr. Buba shook his head. My, how this woman did go on. Poor Werner.

"So here I am," she continued as they came around the corner. "I accidentally find myself on a movie set, just yards away from a star, and you won't even let me see one." Mr. Buba watched as they approached. The woman was standing directly in front of Werner, whose hat was pulled low, his big shoulders hunched forward. She was waving her arms, practically dancing with frustration. Mr. Buba wanted to tell her that seeing a movie star was no big deal. That they were just like other people, if other people were pampered and obnoxious.

Still, he felt sorry for the young woman. Werner was a stickler for rules, but maybe they could bend them so the poor lady could see a movie star.

"Werner," said his colleague, "since this woman is already our guest, why don't we—" Mr. Buba didn't get to finish his sentence. Stepping from behind the woman, Manfred swung Werner's billy club at the guard. The black wood crashed lengthwise against Mr.

Buba's mouth, and the guard gagged on blood and teeth as he fell back against the prop trailer. Manfred hit him again, on the right temple, spinning Mr. Buba's head to the left.

The guard stopped gagging. He slid to the ground and sat there, leaning against the trailer, blood pooling behind his neck and shoulders.

Manfred opened the door of the cab, threw Werner's bloody club in ahead of him, then climbed in. As he did, a man from the film crew shouted, "Jody!" Karin faced away from the set. She knelt, pulled off her backpack, and slipped out her Uzi.

The short man shook his head and began walking toward the trailer.

"Jody, what the hell are you doing there, our soon-tobe ex-intern?" Karin stood and turned.

The assistant director stopped. He was nearly fifty yards away.

"Hey!" he said. He squinted toward the trailer. "Who are you?" He raised an arm and pointed. "And is that one of our prop guns? You can't—" A confident pup-pup-pup from the Uzi dropped Hollis Arlenna on his back, arms splayed, eyes staring.

The moment he hit the ground, people began screaming and running. At the prompting of a young actress, a young actor tried to make his way to the fallen assistant director. As he crawled toward Arlenna, toward Karin, a second burst from the Uzi slammed into the top of the actor's head. He crumpled in on himself. The young actress shrieked and continued shrieking as she watched from behind a camera.

The trailer's powerful engine growled to life. Manfred revved it, drowning out the cries from the set.

"Let's go," he yelled to Karin as he shut the door of the cab.

The young woman walked backward, behind her Uzi, toward the open door of the trailer itself. Expressionless, she jumped in, pulled up the collapsible stairs, and closed the door.

As Manfred roared off through the woods, Mr. Buba's dead body flopped lifelessly to the ground.