Saving Sandra

"Sandra's beautiful enough to tempt me," Doug agreed, "but I don't think she wants anything more from me than our current gig. By the way, you might want to watch your speech. That stalker hasn't shown up yet, but Sandra and I are sure he has an inside source that gets him into Sandra's events. If someone should tip him off about the trap..."

"I got you, man." Matthew McConaghey sipped his daquiri, then pushed the mostly empty glass aside. "I'm approaching my drink limit for the evening. Why don't you go find your partner, see if she can come meet me? I'll prep my charm."

Doug nodded assent and moved away from the bar. Sandra was near the snack table talking to Lakestrider and a tall black man with a Chaplin mustache dressed in a brown suit and trilby hat. Doug recognized the black man as Del Dawson, a Travis County District Attorney Investigator. The hat was concealing his short mohawk haircut for polite society. Didn't know Del was working security here tonight too, Doug mused. Good to see him. We're prepared in case things go wrong tonight.

"How's Matthew doing?" Sandra asked him.

"Seems about what you might expect," Doug said, after nodding hello to Del. "I didn't know you dated Matthew McConaghey, Sandra."

"Another example of a guy I didn't click with long-term." Sandra shrugged. "It ended with him once our movie faded in popularity, just like it will with me and Ryan once the press can accept that it already has been over for a while." She released a sigh. "If I ever do date anyone long-term, I hope they aren't that famous. Or we click better. I don't know."

You should date someone who works behind the scenes, Doug wanted to tell her. Maybe a set designer or a photographer. I think your fame conflicts with other people's and you don't like the interplay. But he did not voice his insight aloud. Sandra was a veteran film star and it wasn't his place to advise her. She would learn the truth in time if she didn't already know it, right?

Doug turned to Lakestrider. "Matthew wants to meet you. Careful, he's a bit frisky tonight."

Lakestrider smiled knowingly. "I wouldn't mind getting frisky with someone like him. He like handcuffs in the bedroom?"

Sandra nodded. "Yes, on occasion, though you may want to surprise him with them. He did that with me." The actress noticed the raised eyebrow Doug was directing at her and Lakestrider. "What? Movie stars can have sex kinks too."

"Uh, I didn't know Lakestrider had that kink," Doug said. He looked at Lakestrider. "Or you were comfortable talking with Sandra about sex."

"We got intimate briefly during our consulting work," Lakestrider said nonchalantly. "Sandra likes all sorts of things in the bedroom." Her tone changed. "Heads up- look who just walked in."

Doug looked where she was waving and saw a thin gray-skinned androgynous humanoid in a gold-trimmed purple robe walking into the party area. The strange being was Silvan Farrow, a traveling karaoke club host Doug knew was also one of the Friendship's highest-ranking members and a Faerie Alien Hybrid. He waved a Friendship gesture at Silvan, who returned the greeting, then moved away to chat with some other entertainers closer to the pool. "One of the Friendship bigshots is here," Doug mused. "Wow."

"Unlike you, I knew Silvan was on the guest list," Del laughed. "Wonder what other surprises will show up tonight. Hey, seen that stalker yet?"

"No," Doug lamented. "Maybe he got smart."

"Either way, we're pressing charges as a backup," said Sandra. "Del's working with a prosecutor helping me build a case against Bailey. Sonya introduced us, just like she did you and me."

"Del's a good guy," Doug told her. "He'll help you with whatever you need professionally. Any more of our cop friends working here tonight, Del?"

"A few," Del answered. "Why don't you roam a bit, keep looking for Bailey? Sonya and I will stay near Sandra in case he comes this way."

"Right." Doug recalled that their current prediction of Bailey's behavior was that he wanted to go after Ryan Gosling apart from Sandra. At the Murder by Numbers premiere, he'd used that method of approach. Surely he'd show up, right? Sandra wasn't wasting half a million dollars? She has it to spare, Doug reminded himself. I need to lure Bailey out too. He waved at two press photographers who were taking shots of him and Sandra from a distance, then coughed loudly. "I need to use the restroom, I'll head that way."

"Good hunting," Del said, clapping him on the shoulder. Doug reminded himself not to shudder at being touched by the gay detective- he and Del were constantly working on their sexual differences- then returned his platonic smile and moved towards the restroom.

Doug used the facilities without issue. Shortly after his exit, though, a middle-aged punk with wild hair dressed in a casual black jumpsuit lunged out of the crowd at him with a knife extended.

"There you are, Gosling!" the punk shouted. "Sandra is mine!"

Recognizing Calvin Bailey at once, Doug grabbed the stalker's knife hand as Bailey lunged at him. An expert twist of his arm, and the punk dropped his weapon. Doug's follow-up leg sweep knocked Bailey to the floor. Doug tackled him, drew a pair of handcuffs from his jacket, and snapped one cuff on Bailey's wrist that he still held. Another quick arm twist, and the stalker's other arm was also secured.

"Y... you...," the stalker stammered.

"Shut up," Doug ordered him. "You've assaulted a plainclothes cop and you're under arrest. Hey Jim!" He waved at Jim Wright, one of the uniformed Austin police officers standing watch nearby. "The moron showed up! Bailey, you have the right to remain silent..."

Jim Wright, a large bald mustached black man, took Bailey's arm and escorted him out of the mansion after Doug finished the Miranda recitation. Doug relaxed. That went just as expected, he thought, smiling. And this time the bad guy didn't escape. Good.

Sandra, Lakestrider, and Del met him back near the snack table. "You look like you have good news, Doug," said Del.

"Bailey just attacked me and he's in police custody," Doug announced. "Check in the mail?"

"Right here," Sandra said, handing him a sealed envelope she took out of her purse. "Good work. I already saw him being hauled outside."

Doug nodded thanks at her and tucked the envelope away.

"Bravo, Doug," said Lakestrider, giving him another proud expression. "Now as long as nothing else goes unexpected tonight..."

"Don't tempt fate," Doug cautioned her. He then addressed Sandra again. "I can enjoy the party a while longer, right?"

"Of course," Sandra waved him away. "Have a good time. You don't even have to keep up the Ryan disguise any longer, unless you want to."

Doug shrugged. "I'll keep up the stunt double persona while I'm here, thanks. Nice meeting you." He headed back towards the bar, wondering if any Hollywood starlets he could chat up were at the party. Angie is also here somewhere, he reminded himself. I got her into the party as the price of going along with this setup so she wouldn't get jealous of me. She has license to play around tonight too, and if we don't find anyone else to go home with tonight, we'll go home together. We couldn't be close to each other tonight before the trap on Bailey was sprung, but now that I got him... I'll check on Angie, I think. He headed towards the place he'd last seen her, the mansion entrance hall.

There was no sign of Angie anywhere. Just the butler and three cops- two in uniform and one in plainclothes- admitting various guests in expensive clothing. Doug took out his phone and texted Angie. "Got Bailey. You still here?"

"No," came a reply a few seconds later. "Went home with Michael Pitt. He's only in town till tomorrow. See you then, Doug."

Michael Pitt? Doug frowned, then recalled that two handsome young actors had starred with Sandra in Murder by Numbers. Ryan Gosling was one and Michael Pitt was the other. Angie had a crush on both actors and since the real Ryan wasn't at the party... guess the other guy was here. Doug shook his head. Lucky break, Angie. Glad you got one of those tonight.

He put his phone away and was starting to head back towards the pool area when the mansion door opened to admit another collection of guests. At least, Doug presumed the guests were invited. At the front of their party was a twenty-something blonde-bearded man in a black dress suit. The huge Mexican man keeping pace with him was wearing a trench coat. His hair was tied in a ponytail and he had a handlebar mustache. Doug thought he looked like Danny Trejo, a character thug actor from numerous action films.

I wouldn't mind shaking hands with Danny Trejo, Doug thought. I hear he's a real nice guy when he's not playing bad guys. That black guy in the glasses next to them looks famous too, though I don't recognize him or the young blonde-bearded man offhand. Those four other guys behind Trejo and his buddies are wearing ski masks... wait a minute...

The butler was walking towards the group. "May I see your invitations, please?"

"Here's my invitation," the bearded man standing next to the Trejo-lookalike said, drawing a pearl-handed revolver pistol. He immediately shot the butler in the face.

The men in ski masks were also pulling out firearms- machine pistols in their case- and shooting the two uniformed cops on entrance security detail. The man who looked like Danny Trejo was grabbing the plainclothes cop and head-butting him.

Doug, shaking in fear, dashed back towards the pool area through the nearest hallway. Yes, he was a cop, but he was still frightened. No way he could take on seven hostile armed men alone! Gunfire was echoing behind him.

"Shit!" Doug cursed under his breath, dashing into a mansion side room. "Shit!"

Automatic gunfire continued to echo from the hall. Had the goons in ski masks seen him? Doug wasn't sure. He looked around the room he was in. Sandra's study, he realized. Good, her desk is big enough to conceal me. He ducked behind that desk and grabbed his phone.

"Lakestrider," he mumbled, typing the appropriate number into his text app. He then sent a message. "Problem. Armed hostiles in front entryway. Seven bad guys, automatic weapons."

"What?" Lakestrider texted back. "Ok, we hear the guns. We'll be ready, thanks."

She better get Sandra out of there, Doug thought. Those guys were trouble. I knew that the second I recognized them. Shit!

***

Outside in the pool area, guests were frowning as they heard the gunfire from the entry hall. They were equally shocked when several of the catering staff pulled submachine guns from their satchels and covered trays, firing into the air and then aiming at the crowd.

Del and Lakestrider were standing near the bar with Sandra Bullock and Matthew McConaghey. Sandra had introduced Lakestrider to Matthew a few minutes ago and they had been exchanging flirts. "What the hell is going on here?" Matthew asked, shocked when he saw the armed caterers.

"Doug just texted me!" Lakestrider said, waving her phone. "More bad guys in the entryway. Sandra, where's your panic room?"

"This way!" Sandra pointed towards a door on the far side of the bar, grabbing Matthew's arm in the same motion. Her action film training was kicking in. "Let's hurry!"

Del nodded even as he drew his Beretta automatic pistol and moved away from the rest of their group. He gunned down two of the armed caterers and then ran into another mansion hallway. A trio of bad guys pursued him while others continued rounding up frightened guests, firing their guns in the air.

Shit, Lakestrider thought, no chance to head for the panic room. There's multiple goons between us and there, and they're sure to recognize Sandra! But they might not recognize me as a cop, she realized in the next instant. She grabbed Sandra's arm and pointed to the area behind the bar.

Sandra nodded and jerked her head at Matthew in an actor's cue. Matthew nodded and dove over the bar as Sandra released his arm. Sandra dove over the bar in the next instant, followed by Lakestrider. The Native American Deputy had her hand inches away from the pistol concealed under her skirt just in case they were pursued.

Loud gunfire continued to echo from the pool area for several seconds, accompanied by frenzied shouts and screams. Then a young man's German-accented voice rang out. "Ladies and gentlemen! Ladies and gentleman, may I have your attention!?"

A single gunshot cracked through the air and the screaming ceased. Lakestrider glanced over the bar and saw a young blonde-bearded man entering the pool area walking next to a large Mexican man with a handlebar mustache and a black man wearing thick glasses. The blonde-bearded man held a pearl-handled revolver and a petulant expression.

"My name is Tony Gruber," he introduced himself, addressing the guests. "I'm of the Gruber crime family. You may be familiar with my Uncle Hans's terrorist activity in Los Angeles sixteen years ago and my father Simon's similar activity in New York nine years ago. You are famous celebrities able to afford millions of dollars in gifts, yes? Well, my associates and I are here to collect some of those gifts from you right now. Give us your money, and you will not be harmed."

He gestured at the thugs behind him dressed in ski masks and suits as well as the others wearing catering uniforms. All were waving submachine guns and intimidating body language at Sandra's guests.

Gruber waved forward two thugs who slung unzipped backpacks off their shoulders. "These men will collect your cash and jewelry." The middle-aged black man in the thick glasses stepped up also, drawing a short-barreled shotgun from his satchel. Gruber nodded at him. "Theo here is a safecracker who worked with my Uncle Hans. He will be opening this mansion's safe. I know there is one. Where is this mansion's owner, Sandra Bullock?"

Matthew grabbed Sandra's arm as she grimaced. "What's going on here?" he whispered. "Die Hard was just a movie, wasn't it?"

"No, Matthew," Lakestrider snapped. "Die Hard and its sequels were _not_just_ movies_."

Matthew gasped and froze in fear.

Sandra easily pulled her arm from his grasp, then stood up and raised her hands. "I'm right here, Mr. Gruber. Please do not harm my guests. My safe is upstairs. However, I may have trouble remembering the combination. You're putting me under a bit of stress, you know."

"That's what Theo is for," Tony Gruber replied with a shrug. He waved at two of the ski-masked goons. "Marko, Fritz, secure Ms. Bullock and take her to the safe with Theo. Get it open as soon as you can please."

The goons he'd indicated nodded and waved their weapons at Sandra. She walked to them and submitted to their escort from the pool area.

Lakestrider meanwhile waved at Matthew to stay down while keeping herself also concealed. She hoped Gruber would not spot either of them immediately.

"Karl, Uli!" Gruber addressed the other two ski-masked goons immediately behind him and two caterers standing next to them. "Take Cates and Ziggs, and a few more! Search the mansion! Find Stewart and the others who ran after that guard who escaped! The rest of you, gather valuables from our guests!"

Okay, Lakestrider thought, he's busy delegating to his thugs. That's good. He isn't yet threatening me.

Gruber was still speaking. "One more thing... are there any heroes here? Any security or police officers we might have missed? Any movie stars who wish to turn this event into a real life echo of their favorite cowboy action staged shows? Anyone at all?"

He waved at the large Mexican man beside him. "If so, allow me to introduce Salvatore the Salamander! He was until recently a circus performer, but now he has accepted a more lucrative role as my henchman! Salvatore is of the species homo superior, a mutant human, specifically a dragon in humanoid form. Salvatore, show any would-be heroes here what they are in for if they choose to fight you!"

The Mexican thug- Lakestrider thought he looked like Danny Trejo but was reasonably sure he wasn't actually that actor- stepped forward, doffing his trench coat. He revealed an elaborate series of tattoos on his chest and arms, which were also covered in thick reptilian scales. Salvatore flexed for the crowd, then exhaled a stream of flame from his mouth and grinned.

Shit, Lakestrider cursed mentally. Okay, no way am I fighting that guy. But I'm keeping my gun concealed too. I'm not stupid. She stood up with her hands raised, gesturing at Matthew to do the same. The actor complied at once.

"Good to see you both hiding there!" Gruber greeted them. "You're friends of Ms. Bullock, yes? Feel free to join the others standing over there!" He waved at the guests being herded at gunpoint. "And please do give my friends your wallets and jewelry! Everyone cooperate and you will not be harmed!"

***

In the study, Doug Ramsay released several deep breaths and continued to send texts. Del, Lakestrider, Jim Wright, and other cops were not answering. The text he'd sent to a local SWAT team leader had been answered and that team was scrambling to respond to the event, but Doug didn't think they would arrive soon enough to change anything. And if the thugs were searching the mansion, they might find Doug at any moment. Shit!

The study door opened and a scared-looking young woman with blonde hair rushed in, then dashed behind the desk. She gasped when she saw Doug. He at once waved her to silence, flashing the badge on his inside jacket lapel.

"Oh phew!" she exclaimed.

Doug dropped his lapel and tapped a finger against his lips. "Who are you?" he whispered.

"Lori," the woman said nervously. "I'm one of Sandra's publicists. Thank God you're okay, Ryan! There are..."

"Bad guys in the mansion?" Doug cut her off. "I know. And I'm not Ryan Gosling. I'm a cop playing him for the evening. Any of them after you?"

She shook her head. "I don't think so. Wait, you're not Ryan? You look so much like him..."

Doug interrupted her again. "It's makeup. I was helping catch a stalker earlier tonight. We got him, but... nobody was expecting more bad guys to show up tonight." He waved his phone. "I have friends on the way. Do you know if they got Sandra? The other cops working security here tonight?"

"I..." Lori stammered. "I... Yes. They were in the pool area. I ran there from here. Sandra and most of the guests were in there. Can you..."

Doug drew the CZ automatic handgun from his underarm holster and nodded. "Not yet," he then told Lori. "You stay here, I can..." Do what? he wondered. There were seven bad guys who came in the front and if they attacked the pool area that close to storming the entrance hall... there have to be more of them in the pool area. I'm just one guy... just...

A cop, he amended. Your job is to be a hero here. And a hero is someone who does not give up. You've already been paid half a million dollars to protect Sandra tonight. You wondered earlier if that was more than necessary for one stalker abduction. So earn the rest of it, or maybe save lives anyway. Good deeds are worth it, whatever the reward, right? Isn't proving you could do such deeds why you became a Sheriff's Deputy?

Yes, yes, it is, he reminded himself, releasing another breath. "Lori," he then addressed the frightened young woman, "I saw seven bad guys in the entryway. Were there more in the pool area?"

"Uh, yes," she stammered. "A bunch of guys dressed as caterers, only I guess they weren't caterers... I...."

"Did you count them?" Doug waved her to silence before she could answer. "No, you didn't have time. Shit, how many bad guys..."

The loud boom of the room's door slamming open interrupted him. Loud footsteps echoed through the study. Automatic gunfire echoed through the air from outside the room. "I know you're in here, girl!" a thickly accented voice shouted.