Johnny Bee grimaced as yet another loud motorcycle roared by. They had been on location in Laredo, Texas for five days and they had completed less than three days of shooting. The first couple of days of location shoots were always tough, but Laredo wasn’t Los Angles and people here weren’t used to watching a production crew work. Worse, the movie was set in a mid-size city, the fictional town of Los Rio, Texas and the production was planned to shoot entirely on locations in and around Laredo for an authentic feel. It had seemed like a good idea in preproduction, but the shooting schedule hadn’t planned on the uncooperative locals.

 

He’d made a change in the shooting order to grab some night shots, trying to get some momentum going, but they were still being hounded. They had barricaded off the block around the Plaza Cinema, but they only had three hours between one and four in the morning to get the shot before their permit was up for the night. Once again, the loud stereos, cars, and motorcycles as gawkers partied were ruining their takes. They had asked for quiet, but the kids with the stereos and bikes seemed to be going out of their way to harass them.

 

He’d complained to the Laredo police during the first few days, but so long as the people stayed behind the barricades, there was little the police could do. They had issued a few tickets for disturbing the peace, which bought them a few minutes of quiet, but the owners of the cars almost seemed to take pride in the fact they had been issued a ticket.

 

Johnny waited until the bike wailed out of hearing. They could ADR the actors back in LA if they had to, and not use the live sound, but he was a traditionalist and felt nothing beat live sound if they could get it. He turned back to his monitor.

 

“Let’s go again,” he said. “Action!”

 

Angela Moncrief stepped out of the Los Rio police cruiser as the camera craned in. “You found something?” she asked.

 

Bradley Hoffman stepped out of the shadows of the Plaza, its antique neon painting their faces in greens and reds. “Yeah. I heard on the street that Arnold…Fuck!” he snarled as he broke character. Arnold Robertson was the name of the actor playing his father and Angela’s mentor.

 

“Reset and do it again,” Johnny ordered as Angela snickered and got back into the cruiser and the camera crane returned to its starting point. Bradley was such a lightweight and Johnny never thought he was right for the role, but Brand B Pictures wanted to pair him up with Angela and his suggestions for other actors were ignored. “Action!”

 

Just as Angela stepped out of the cruiser a stereo started thumping in the distance. She ignored it as she hit her mark. “You found something?”

 

“Yeah. I heard on the street that Dad was being targeted.”

 

“Targeted? By who?” Angela asked.

 

“He didn’t know. All he knew was—”

 

“Cut! Goddamn it!” Johnny growled as he ripped his headphones off his head. He could hear the thumping bass on the soundtrack. “Patricia! Go find Ryan and see if he can do something about the fucking noise!”

 

The Production Assistant turned and hurried away to find Ryan Hayes, the Line Producer. When Johnny Bee said jump, everyone else asked “How high?”

 

***

 

“May I have everyone’s attention?” Ryan said though the bullhorn. “Everyone, may I please have your attention? You are disrupting our sound with your music, cars, and motorcycles. I ask you, again, to please remain quiet during the takes.”

 

Saul Houston stood at the back of the crowd and smiled. Laredo was the Pagans’ town, and the Pagans was his club, which meant Laredo was his town. Nothing happened in the Laredo the Pagans didn’t hear about, and when he heard Brand B Pictures was making a movie here, he’d offered the Pagans’ services as location security. Brand B didn’t think they needed local help, and now they were finding out how wrong they were.

 

Somewhere behind the crowd, a car stereo began to thump even louder and Saul’s smile crept a little wider. It was early, or late depending on your point of view, and the only people at the shoot were late teens and early twenties who had no respect for authority, just as he encouraged.

 

The Pagans had put the word out Angela Moncrief, one of the hottest actresses in Hollywood at the moment, was going to be in town making a movie. That’s all it took. People had been flocking to the set, eager to see Hollywood in action and maybe catch a glimpse of Angela, Bradley, Arnold, or one of the other big name actors and actresses attached to the project.

 

The Pagans had been on hand early on to prevent Brand B from intimidating the crowd, and it had grown from there. Now there was a carnival atmosphere surrounding the production and the partying had taken on a life of its own. The only reason Saul was there was because it was the first night shoot and he wanted to see for himself if the production would continue to be disrupted or if the Pagans would have to make mischief on their own.

 

He needn’t have worried. The crowd tonight was, if anything, more rowdy than normal. Of course it was the wee hours of Saturday morning and many of those present were drunk, high, or both.

 

***

 

Angela sat in the Los Rio police car, sweating her ass off. There was a fan in the car, but dressed in her police blues, she was still melting. She wasn’t wearing a bulletproof vest, because it hid her figure, and she wondered how real cops did it. No wonder they wanted to sit in the air conditioning and eat doughnuts.

 

She sat, waiting for Johnny to start them up again. Landing the role of Tanya Palmer, the heroine in the best-selling Los Rio series by Diane Swanson, had been a major coup. Having Johnny Bee attached as the director? That put the project on the front burner and they had landed a lot of A-List talent because of it. Arnold Robertson was playing Donny Cowen, her partner and mentor, and Cora LaShay was Terri Palmer, her mother, just to name a few. Even Bradley Hoffman, as Andre Cowen, was trying out his chops in a more serious role after his last two action flicks went down in flames. She liked him, and he was certainly eye candy, but she thought his acting was a bit stiff. It was fine for hardcore action, but Los Rio was, at its heart, a character-driven drama, which required subtlety. Bradley was about as subtle as a slap upside the head. Still, she was looking forward to doing the love scene with him, when his stiffness could be put to good use. She smiled at her own joke.

 

She could hear Ryan talking to the crowd over the bullhorn. Of course, who could do their damn job in these conditions? The fucking midnight call was bad enough, but having the local assholes screwing up every take was wearing thin. No wonder Bradley was fucking up his lines and his portrayal was off.

 

***

 

“Angela, you ready?” Johnny’s voice came over the walkie in the car. She held up her thumb. “Bradley?” There was a pause as he stepped out of the shadows and gave a wave then retreated back to his start point. “Okay…Action!”

 

Angela opened her door and stepped out, stopping right on the crack that was her mark. “You found something?”

 

“Yeah. I heard on the street that Dad was being targeted,” Bradley said as he stepped out of the shadows.

 

“Targeted? By who?”

 

“He–” Before Bradley could get the rest of the line out, the crew turned as they heard a ricer roar to life with a scream, the driver banging it off the rev limiter as tires howled, before it wailed away.

 

“Damnit!” Angela yelled. “I’m sick of this shit!” She stomped toward the crew as the crane pulled back.

 

“Angela! Where are you going?” Johnny asked as she pushed through the mass of the production crew.

 

“I need a break!” She kept going until she reached the barricade. “What the fuck is wrong with you people?” she yelled, her fists clenched tight as if she was ready to take a swing at somebody. “Why don’t you go the fuck home so we can work! Don’t you have some place else to be?”

 

“Yeah! Balls deep in you!” a male voice called from the crowd, making everyone cheer and catcall.

 

Saul chuckled. It was too fucking early to be up, and he’d left Alicia alone in his bed. She was one of his regulars, and the kid was onto something. He was certain she was lonely and he wouldn’t mind going balls deep into her again. They hadn’t done a twofer in a while and as he turned away, he decided he’d wake her up by sliding his cock into her.

 

He began to push his way out of the crowd when he heard Angela scream out. “Get your fucking hands off me!”

 

He turned back. He didn’t want the crowd getting out of control. That would bring in the police and that would give the production the room it needed. He watched as a Angela pushed a member of the crew, the woman stumbling backwards before falling to her ass. He paused to watch as two more crewmembers, men this time, came on the run, and began to carefully manhandle Angela back as she jerked and lunged while hurling insults at them.

 

“Let go of me!” she shrieked as she shook the men off. They let her go as she stood glaring at them, her face twisted in fury as she panted. “Don’t you ever fucking touch me again!”

 

The crowd cheered and chanted. “Fight…fight…fight!” they cried, getting into rhythm and egging Angela on. This was going better than he could have possibly hoped.

 

Angela glared at the crowd before turning on her toe, pushed her way between the two men, and stomped back toward rest of the crew.

 

Saul turned again and strode casually back to his Harley, grinning as he walked. Another few days of this, a week at most, and he guessed he would either get a call or the production crew would pack up and get out of town to film their movie somewhere else…and he really didn’t care which.