Chapter Two

The guard smiled as he stepped out of his little cubicle and approached Kim’s Jeep. “Uh-oh. What are we doing today?”

“Nothing spectacular,” Kim said. “First day on the set of my new job.” She showed him the badge.

“Neutral Ground? What is that?”

“New show for TBC. Should be huge. International intrigue and sexual tension.” She widened her eyes and pursed her lips, feigning excitement.

The guard laughed and handed the badge back to her. “Try not to hurt yourself too badly this time, eh?” He checked a clipboard and said, “You’re in Soundstage Two. You know where that is, right?”

“I should be able to find it. Thanks, Jimmy.”

He saluted two fingers from the brim of his cap as he went back into the guardhouse.

Kim drove through the gate, angling immediately to the right. The studios looked like regular warehouses from the outside, complete with plain white garage doors. A sea of white trailers and Winnebagos stood next to the building. Kim found a parking space in front of the chain link fence, underneath a sign that said “Reserved for Neutral Ground Cast & Crew.” She released her seatbelt and picked up the script. She had spent most of previous evening filling the margins of the script with notes to herself, blocking fight scenes and stunts. She expected to spend the morning explaining to the director what needed to be done.

The access door was propped open with a milk crate, and she stepped into a completely different world. The studio was much darker than outside, and several degrees cooler. But if she kept her eyes forward and ignored the exposed wall of the studio, she could almost believe she had just walked into a foreign outpost. The main room of the complex stood before her, with a sea of desks all dressed out to look real. The windows looked out on backdrops that revealed a forested nightscape. A second floor ringed the walls on three sides, and she could see offices through the open doors.

Various crew members were busy setting up lights and bounce boards, kneeling to tape down wires so the actors wouldn’t trip over them, calling out last minute instructions to people she couldn’t see hiding in the shadowed catwalks overhead. She assumed she was standing in the “CIA offices” indicated in the script.

The plot of the pilot was simple: FBI agent Thomas Templeton finds evidence of a militia being built on an island in the Florida Keys. In the midst of his investigation, CIA agent Simone Lethe breaks into his office and, when caught, reveals that the militia group has ties to an Argentine dictator. Since the CIA doesn’t have jurisdiction inside the borders of the United States, and the FBI has none outside the borders, they decide to work together to bring down the militia group. They are successful and, in this version of the script, decide to work together and share information whenever possible. Hopefully for at least one hundred episodes worth of cases, for the syndication bucks.

Kim spotted Kenneth Swift, the director, standing by his outpost of monitors near the cameras. He was easy to spot; a middle aged guy who looked like a grizzly bear wearing a human disguise.

She made her way over and whistled to get his attention. “Ken, you got some actors for me to abuse?”

He twisted at the waist, smiled, and took off his headphones. “Kim, great.” He slipped off his chair and murmured something to the assistant sitting next to him. He gestured at the monitor, then at the crowd of people wandering on the set, and then turned to give Kim his full attention. He was a brute of a man, wide at shoulder and hips with ursine hands that Kim felt could crush her head if he had the mind. “Have any trouble with the script?”

“No, it all looks good. I just need to go over some of the routines with the stars.”

“Easter isn’t here yet, but I think Larkin is right next door in the FBI set.”

Kim nodded. “All right. Thanks, Kenneth.” She slapped his arm as she passed and he went back to his monitors.

She walked through the office set, through a door and past a backdrop to find a second set of offices. The differences were night and day; the first office set was bright, high-tech and polished. This office looked like a refurbished basement den. Old, scratched desks covered with bits of paper and out of date computers.

Marisa Larkin sat with her back to the door, bent over a script. Kim hesitated in the doorway. Despite the years she had worked in the business, she still got a bit of a thrill whenever she met a celebrity. Marisa wasn’t exactly top on Kim’s favorite list; she had only actually seen two of her movies and thought they were just all right. But she was still an actress. A celebrity. Kim politely cleared her throat. “Miss Larkin?”

The actress turned, and draped her arm across the back of her seat. “Yes?”

Kim was momentarily struck dumb. Seeing this face on TV was one thing, but it was completely different to be in her presence.

Marisa’s eyes were steel blue, her eyebrows arched like a Renaissance aristocrat. Her features were similar enough to Kim’s that they might be mistaken for each other during the insanity of a fight scene or from a strategic distance, but up close no one would ever confuse the plain Kim for the beautiful Larkin. The actress wore a white blouse, unbuttoned halfway to reveal the scooped neck of a grey tank top, and black trousers. Her legs were crossed at the knee, her body twisted so that her shirts pulled taut across her breasts.

Kim finally found her voice and said, “Kim Greer. I’ll be your stunt coordinator and your stunt double for this production.”

“Oh!” Marisa put down her script and climbed from the seat. She was only about an inch shorter than Kim with her high heels on, and she extended her hand. “You can call me Marisa. I figure we’re going to be working together a lot, we might as well be friendly.”

“Makes sense.” Kim shook Marisa’s hand. Wow, her skin is soft. “Do you moisturize?” she asked, immediately kicking herself for such a stupid question.

Marisa laughed. “I think it’s mostly Purell.”

“Right.” Kim had no idea why she was acting like this. Usually she was star struck for about thirty seconds before her professional side took over and she was able to function. Something about Marisa Larkin was preventing her from making the leap. She licked her lips and held up her script. “I thought we’d go over a couple of the stunts we’ll be doing.”

“By ‘we,’ you mean ‘you,’ right?”

Kim smiled. “Right.”

“Sorry. Don’t mean to be a wuss, but--”

“Don’t worry about it. That’s why I’m here.” She walked to the nearest desk and put the script on the blotter. She let Marisa have the seat, and bent down over the desk to point at some of her notes. “Okay, the first one we have to deal with is the fight between you and Temple. I’ll choreograph that for the two of you, but I think Kenneth wants me to stand in for you during some of the wide shots.”

“How come?”

Kim shrugged. “I know capoeira.”

Marisa raised an eyebrow. “You know who?”

“It’s a Brazilian fighting style. It looks very impressive on camera.” She winked, smiled, and looked back down at her script. Am I flirting? No. Definitely not. She chewed on her bottom lip and said, “Okay, um... the next one. You and Temple are in the back of a Jeep being taken to see the militia leader. You overpower the guard. You’ll have to do that, since the back of the truck will be tight and it’ll be too hard to hide my face. Then you jump from the back of the truck, roll, and run into the forest.”

“You’ll be doing that?”

Kim grinned. “Yeah, I’ll do that. So do you want to go over the fight, just to see what you’ll be doing?”

“Sure.”

“Okay. I’ll be you, right now. You can be Temple.”

Marisa smiled. “Works for me.”

Kim rolled her shoulders and said, “First, get loose. Warm up your muscles a little.” She worked her head back and forth, shrugging her shoulders and letting her hands dangle a bit in front of her chest before she squeezed them into fists. “We’re going to go through it slow until you feel comfortable. The scene starts when Temple finds you in the basement offices. You’re at the desk, and he comes up behind you.” She turned her back, bending over the desk. “Temple walks in, you spin and throw a kick.”

She turned and brought her leg up, aiming for Marisa’s chest. “Temple grabs your foot.” Marisa grabbed Kim’s foot and looked down at it. Her boot had three straps on the side, held by gold buckles. “These are great boots.”

“Thanks,” Kim said. “Okay, Temple holds on to your foot, you...” She gripped the edge of the desk and swung her other foot up, twisting her body as she did. Her other foot came within centimeters of hitting Marisa in the face. Marisa released Kim’s foot and Kim dropped acrobatically to the floor. As soon as her feet hit, she spun to face Marisa again. “Temple comes at you. This will be you, so watch carefully.” She waved her fingers and Marisa advanced. “Swing at me.”

Marisa telegraphed a wide swing. Kim brought up her right arm, blocked the punch, and moved in. “Use your whole body, bury your shoulder in his gut and run him back.” They walked slowly across the room, Kim’s side pressed against Marisa’s chest. When they reached the wall, Kim straightened and looked into Marisa’s bright blue eyes. It took her a heartbeat to get over how great Marisa’s body felt against hers, barely noticeable but alarming to Kim. “Uh, box his ears,” she mimed that, “and twist to get out of his grip.” She twisted, her back to Marisa. “He grabs you.”

Marisa wrapped her arms around Kim and pulled her back. Kim was momentarily distracted, the simple act of having a woman’s arms around her throwing her mind off-track.

“And then what happens?” Marisa asked, her voice very near to Kim’s ear.

Kim said, “Uh... then, uh, you stomp on his foot.” She lightly stepped on Marisa’s foot, pulled free and threw her elbow over her shoulder. “Be sure to pull your punch here. Don’t want to break your costar’s nose on the first episode.”

“Yeah. We can wait to see if he’s an asshole before we start injuring him on purpose.”

Kim laughed. “Okay, after that he’ll let go of you and you run for the door. That’s when he stops you, you know, ‘Let me help you,’ all that.”

“And so begins a beautiful partnership.”

Kim smiled and said, “Yep. So it begins.” She put her hands on her hips and looked at the office set. She couldn’t help wondering if Marisa meant a partnership for the characters in the show, or something else entirely. “Uh. Look, I hate to assault you and run, but I should probably go find the other actors and--”

“Yeah, go ahead. I’m still trying to get a handle on my lines.” She stuck out her hand. “Thanks for coming to find me.”

“Sure,” Kim said. She shook Marisa’s hand again, a little reluctant to let it go, and said, “See you around.”

“Hope so.”

Kim chuckled and left the office, shaking her head as soon as she was in the hallway. Stop being ridiculous. You’re acting like this is the first time you’ve ever met an actress. She scratched her eyebrow, risked one last glance into the fake office, and then went to find see if the guy playing Temple had shown up yet.