Leveling Up Ch. 49-56

Heath chuckles before returning his attention to me. "Yeah, kind of hard to tell the two apart," he comments. "But I remember one of them had this huge wedding ring. The other one. Not very big. So which was your wife?"

"The smaller one," I admit in a terse tone.

"Kind of figured that," Heath responds and the group of men burst into laughter again.

Nathan growls, charges forward and shakes his fist at Heath. "Hey asshole, just because you're some movie star doesn't mean you get to be a dick to other people. This man is a legend and has survived through things you would have trouble even comprehending. Him serving as your stunt man. It's a fucking honor."

"Nathan, I can defend myself," I say, lean away from Heath, cross my arms across my chest and scowl. "Making money may be easy when you hit the genetic lottery. Perhaps you think that makes you better than me or something. But at the end of this week, I'm getting paid $11,000 for your cowardice. Maybe that's a pittance for what you make but for me that's fast and easy money for just standing up and doing the shit you're too afraid to. Besides, the fact that I didn't have to give my wife some expensive ring. It's because she didn't marry me for the money but something else." I wink at him. "Now I bet you've never had a woman like that, huh? One that was with you for reasons other than you being handsome, rich and famous. No wonder Mia dumped you."

We walk away with Heath stunned in silence. "Can you fucking believe he talked like that to me?" Heath complains to his entourage as we continue on. "Did you see how that kid jumped in an defended him so quick like that. Why didn't any of you do that? You all just stood there holding your dicks in the wind."

After going through wardrobe and make up, I assemble with the other actors and stunt men out in the far end of the pasture. There sits a blue 1966 Chevrolet Corvette Sting Ray next to a woodland camouflaged Mil Mi-24 helicopter. "Is this a real Mi-24?" I ask Willis.

His eyebrow raises as he turns his head towards me. "Yeah, Masterson wanted the real deal. It was a pain in the ass because of the war going on but we managed to get one. How'd you know it was a Mi-24?"

"I'm a history teacher," I explain. "You know, when it's not the summer break that's what I do. Teach high school students."

Willis scratches his chin, blinks, and asks "Really?"

"Alright everyone, gather," Clay Masterson shouts through a megaphone. I, dressed in a vintage designer blue suit with red tie, join Rhonda Reynolds in a yellow print Courrège dress, Reynolds' stunt double dressed exactly the same, Vladimir Korskov dressed as a Soviet commando, Nathan, another man dressed in a Soviet Union soldier's uniform, Alicia, Willis, Wheeler, the camera crew, Production Assistants, and the assistant directors in front of the line.

We stand and wait and I see I am next to Korskov. "A Ukrainian playing a Soviet?" I ask.

He sighs and rolls his eyes. "I know," he gripes in a thick accent. "They told me they wanted me to be in the movie because it could help promote the war effort. I was so excited. Then I learned I would have to play a communist." He snorts loudly and spits next to him on the ground.

Willis approaches the group and in a loud voice yells, "Ok everyone, this is how this is going down. Robert's going to fly the helicopter with Vladimir. We've got a drone camera that will be recording them. Vladimir has instructions how to fire his AK-47 without endangering anyone's safety. Theodore will drive the corvette, our pilot will chase him, and Wheeler, in the sniper tower, will shoot bursts of gunfire at him intentionally missing every time. Theodore will drive to the entrance of the four story building we constructed and Rhonda will be out on the second story balcony. Theodore will kill the engine and run inside of the building while gunfire continues to miss him. He will run to the second floor and grab Rhonda. Rhonda will then descend to the first floor and the production assistants will begin erecting the safety net, while Theodore and Rhonda's stunt double ascend to the roof. They will jump over the building and into the safety net and as soon as they leap I will activate the remote detonator and blow up the building. All stunt crew will also have a real time line to each other through the cellular earbuds I provided you with. Any questions?" He waits. "No? Ok, director?"

Clay Masterson, dressed in a cowboy hat, black dress shirt, bolo tie, and blue jeans holds up a megaphone and speaks, "The camera will be on a dolly. Stunt doubles should not look behind at the camera for any reason. No fancy driving or flying. If your thirsty make sure to get a water bottle before we start shooting."

The Soviet Union manufactured helicopter hovers above with a heavy omnipresent chopping and I suck water out of my plastic bottle and it tastes cold. A deep breath releases from my mouth before I open the door of the Corvette Sting Ray and slip inside to the driver's seat. It's all blue in there and the steering wheel is very thin with gray holed connectors to the steering column. I remove the baseball cap from my head and set it on the passenger seat next to me before inserting the see-through earbud. The ignition key turns and the engine revs before purring. Fuck. Well here we go.

"Action!" Clay Masterson yells.

My right foot slams against the gas peddle and the car hurtles down what is not a paved road but a grassy and bumpy hill. The sixty year old car violently jerks up and down causing my body, which only has a lap seatbelt and nothing connecting to the shoulder, to shake and slam violently against the seat.

I hear burst machine gun fire and as I drive violently forward I see exploding soil around my car and even with the windows rolled up I smell gunpowder. The Corvette charges towards the three story building set piece as the helicopter and incessant chopping follows.

The car approaches the three story set structure and my right foot taps the brake. It does nothing. "What the fuck?" I say and I slam my right foot hard against the peddle. Nothing happens and the car continues to hurtle towards the building at full speed. "Shit, shit, shit!" I yell as my foot slams repeatedly against the break pedal. The car throttles full speed ahead thrashing against the uneven down-sloped hill. "Breaks are shot!"

The remaining crew in the pasture begin to run at full-speed towards the active set.

Rhonda sees the car hurdling much faster than it should, screams, and runs inside the second story set-piece.

I brace my arms crisscrossed across my chest and duck behind the steering column. The car collides into and through the flimsy walls of the set piece building with a crash and explosion of white and brown plaster. The front collides against a concrete barrier and with no airbags, my chest slams at 50 plus miles per hour against the steel steering column knocking the wind out of my lungs. There is the sound of metal crunching and crackling before my throat retches iron tasting blood, legs both seethe in severe pain, head pounds, and nose smells acrid smoke and motor oil. Coughing violently, my eyes see glowing orange flames and heat bathes my bleeding body. "Fuck, fuck," I yell and grab at my bloody legs but they're wedged tightly against crushed gnarled metal. As I fail to dislodge them, my body winces, eyes tear and throat chokes on thick black smoke.

Willis rushes forward and when he sees the red glow of fire his eyes grow moist and he shivers. "Medic!" he screams. "Medic!" He turns to see the rest of the film crew winded struggling for breath. Weaver is rapidly descending the ladder down his sniper tower. Willis turns to Alicia whose breaths saw in and out and complexion seems unusually pale. "Where the fuck is the medic!? he screams as his voice chokes with emotion. The helicopter circles around the building resulting in an omnipresent chopping. "Where are the fire extinguishers that are supposed to be here?!"

Alicia cries hysterically and shakes rapidly. "Why are you screaming at me!?" she asks an accusatory tone. "You know I have generalized anxiety disorder!"

Wheeler rushes towards the car crash followed by Nathan and joined by Willis. As Wheeler approaches the burning car I'm in, a fireball bursts backward causing him and Nathan to leap away.

"Stay away, it's too dangerous!" I yell. My arms grab my bloody left leg and again pull. I wince and scream out in pain. "Fuck!"

Nathan and Wheeler begin to cough as they inhale smoke.

"This is fucking bad!" Willis yells. "The second the fire reaches that gas tank it's going to explode. Theodore, he's going to die." He whimpers and his head vibrates rapidly. "There are explosives all over the place back there. If they get too hot... We've got two more people on the second floor."

Nathan, stepping away from the smoke, opens up a FaceTime call with Sammy. "It's Nathan, things have gone horribly wrong," he explains. "Mr. T is in a car about to explode. You need to get here as soon as possible!"

Wheeler grabs a Bowie knife from a belt-mounted holster and stabs the wooden exterior of the set piece of the building before grabbing a window still and withdrawing the knife only to quickly stab higher.

Willis waves his hands widely and yells, "What are you doing!? You're going to get killed! That car is going to explode!"

Tears run down Wheelers face as he violently slams his knife into a higher position above him and pulls up further. "No way is anyone fucking dying on this movie set!" He yells and shoves his knife further up.

Willis breaths rapidly as he sprints towards the coiled hose. His shaking hands grab the rubber and it feels cool and slick in his hands. The roaring fire blazes nearby as he tries to unravel it as quickly as he can. Uncoiled and snaked against the ground, the stunt coordinator rapidly rotates the release valve which squeaks with every gyration. Through heavy breaths, Willis grabs the plastic nozzle and runs back around the other side of the building. Covered in sweat, he faces the growing inferno, aims the hose forward, and slams his finger against the trigger. The hose does not project any water. Willis's jaw clenches, face sneers and his jerky hands flip the nozzle around before he hits the trigger again and again. It clicks but no water flows. He grips the tube of the hose and it feels light. "Fuck!" he screams through tear filled eyes before smashing the nozzle against the ground causing a series of sharp, resonate clanging. "Fuck, fuck, fuck this!"

Nathan charges around the building set piece to its backside. He examines the exterior and its total lack of a fire escape. There is just one door and when he turns the knob there is a stifled grating clunk as the lock prevents the door from opening. Nathan takes a deep breath, steps backward, and with his right shoulder out rushes full speed at the door. It loudly cracks as the door partially tears off the frame. My former student repeats his shoulder slam and this time the door snaps and thuds to the ground.

Nathan stumbles into the room and sees that the ground is covered in sawdust. "No one swept this out of here?" he mumbles to himself. He coughs as his lungs inhale thick, hot, black smoke. His torso ducks and his lungs are able to breath again. There is a blinking stack of rectangular bricks towards the backside of the building entirely circled by flames. "Holy shit," he curses. Looking forward he sees me trapped and bleeding in the mangled car wreckage of the crumpled retro Corvette surrounded by hot orange flames. "Don't worry Mr. T, I'll get you out of there. Just gonna rush through the flames."

I cough blood before screaming, "Don't!"

Nathan rushes as fast as he can and when his body hits the fire he ignites. Immediately, he lunges backward and rolls on the ground to extinguish the flames.

With his right hand, Wheeler plunges the bowie knife into the outer-wall of the set structure and grips it hard. His left arm releases the outcropping and he hangs holding the knife with his other hand. With a pained grunt, his left arm reaches upwards and grabs against the structure until he feels it. The base of the pillared columns of the second story balcony. His left hand grips it as his right withdraws the knife only to plunge it into the wall again higher. After retrieving the knife, he returns it to his holster. Right arm forward, his hand wraps around another of the balcony columns. He roars like a lion and begins jettisoning his body upwards, releasing his grip on the columns, and immediately gripping a position higher than he had grabbed before. When near the top, his body lunges and he rolls over the top of the railing and on to the second story balcony.

Wheeler enters the second story and coughs violently as thick, dark, and acrid smoke overwhelm his lungs. His body collapses to the ground and he crawls further inside. "This heat is intense," he relays into the earbud as he removes his baseball cap and uses it to wipe the sweat off his forehead. "This black smoke is radiating a lot of heat and it's all going up." He sees Rhonda's stunt double rasping while kneeling over Rhonda's unconscious body laying on the ground before beginning chest compressions.

Slamming his palms down on the ground one after the other, Wheeler rapidly advances towards the two women. "Let me try," he offers. He opens Rhonda's mouth with his two hands and breathes several times into her mouth before attempting chest compressions with his muscular arms.

A loud explosion sounds and the ceiling above collapses in a giant cloud of plaster as debris rains down on Wheeler and the two women.

Willis watches in disbelief as the fourth floor explosives detonate followed by the device on the roof. A massive fireball erupts from the structure surrounded by a boom that causes the ground itself to vibrate.

The energy from the sudden explosion washes over the hovering Mi-24 chopper and causes it to shift its right side down until it is flying sideways. Korskov slides out towards the open door normally on the right side of the aircraft only to quickly grab on to the side with his left hand. His AK-47 tumbles and he grabs the barrel with his right hand only to let it go so that he can also grab on to the sputtering helicopter. "Блять, блять, блять!" he screams over the earbud.

The chopper levels slightly allowing Korskov to pull himself up only for it to begin rotating faster and faster in a circle as it careens towards the building. Korskov vanishes before returning into view stumbling as he holds the limp body of the pilot who is vomiting. Korskov carries him along on a massive leap of faith onto the roof of the beleaguered building. With the men originally on board out of view, the helicopter continues to rotate rapidly and eventually smashes into the other side of the structure resulting in another massive fireball and rocketing debris.

Willis stares jaw agape before a piece of shrapnel comes flying at him and without any time for him to react, slices into his left arm nearly severing it from his body. It clanks against the ground and when his body falls against the warm ground with a thud he shrieks in pain as red blood begins to stain the light yellow grass.

Covered in filth, I blink and feel light headed. It's very hot, I'm drenched in sweat, and all around me fire rages. My eyes peer back and that's when I see him. Nathan splayed out on the ground. Surrounded by flames. He put his life on the line. All to save me. I look down at my lap and it is absolutely soaked in blood. My eyes focus on Nathan again and fill with tears. I grab my left leg and with all the strength I can muster I attempt to remove it from the gnarled wreckage of the Corvette. The pain is excruciating but I persist. More and more blood pours out of my leg and I pass out.

55. Film Set - Angeles Crest Forest - Catering Area - Moment's Earlier

"He's just so standoffish now, like he hates me," Wendy complains, sighs, and looks down at her wedding ring. "Ever since we started dating it's been so hard. Living in his shadow. We can't go out to eat, go shopping, or whatever without people approaching him and showering him in praise. I swear, this is a true story. Teddy and I were walking in downtown. There's some homeless kid pan handling. He sees Teddy and he stands up immediately and gives my husband a $5 bill. Do you know how humiliating it is? When every one of your students can't shut up about how your husband is the best teacher they've ever had. You know, I'm an instructor too."

Judy shovels a forkful of salad into her mouth before crunching down on it. She leans forward and places her right hand on my wife's left wrist. After swallowing, she responds, "You remind me of my husband. He wanted to be a scientist. Both of us did. Even today sometimes I imagine myself in that role. It's why I was trying so hard to suck up to Brad Bentley. Again, I'm sorry about the horrific things he did to you. I knew he was a sadist but I didn't know how warped he's become. Now, I make a lot more money than my husband. As a feminist, I have no problem with it. In fact, I'm glad he has more time to spend with our kid. Look, I had nothing going on in my life at one point and I did the unthinkable. I signed a deal with the devil. While, I won't say there weren't a few distressing pitfalls I experienced, overall my life improved drastically."

My wife stills, eyes widen, and she blinks rapidly before staring at Judy. "Do you believe they're real?" she asks and leans in. "Devils, demons, Hell?"

Judy chuckles and shakes her head. "As a woman of science, of course not," she denies. "I signed a stupid contract with some mafia like organized crime group. My husband though... He's obsessed with this bizarre idea that I literally signed a deal with a devil. I can't tell you how many times I've caught him staying up late researching nonsense. Listening to occult podcasts by some lunatic calling himselfThe Patrician. His conspiracy theories keep resulting in us getting investigated by the FBI. He's obsessed with finding this place called the Ruby Red Lounge"

Heath Halverson approaches and asks, "Ruby Red Lounge? You ladies must be pretty desperate and naughty if you're thinking about going to that place. "Still its the surest path to take. If you want to be rich or famous."

"You're actually been there?" Judy asks, tilts her head, parts her lips, and nods repeatedly.

"It's the worst kept secret in Hollywood," Heath explains, puffs out his chest, and grins knowingly. "Yeah, I've been."

"What is it, like a nightclub or something?" Wendy asks as she rubs at her chin.

"It's hard to explain, but kind of sort of," Heath responds. "People go there to gamble, drink, take drugs, and engage in prostitution. All sorts of lawyers hang out over there and its a spot corporate types like to meet and negotiate deals at. More than anything its the only place on this continent you can go and get contracts."

"What kind of contracts?" my wife asks, wets her lips, leans forward, and stares at him.

"Contracts for whatever you want," Heath explains. "You want to be a rich and famous actress? Well, there's a contract for that. "Is it your dream to be the next big tech startup? There's a contract for that too."

"So, where is it?" Judy asks. "The Ruby Red Lounge,"

The chopping of a helicopter sounds close by.

Heath smirks, thrusts out his chest, and juts his chin out. "I'll tell you but only if you ladies do something for me first."

"Like what?" my wife asks.

Heath's eyes twinkle as a wide grin spreads over his face. "I can't tell you," he says. "You'll have to come inside my private trailer. I can show you there."

Judy shakes her head. "I'm out," she declares. "It may have worked out for me once. Signing a contract like that. But now whenever I have to sign something; I get very uncomfortable. It sucks the life out of me."