The banter and gossip continued throughout the meal, and rather than evading the awkwardness by drinking, she zeroed in on her heaping mound of pancakes, trying to focus on the normalcy and calm that came with her friends instead of the big bag of awkward that was the rest of her life.
• • •
Charlie came through again with two MacKenzie sightings less than five minutes apart, dated to half an hour before Ree left the brunch.
Enriched by chocolate chip pancakes and only most of a screwdriver, she excused herself while the ladies chatted a bit more. She hustled home assembled some war tools, and sat down for her media charge-up.
Smart money said MacKenzie would be at the park for the better part of the afternoon, so she should have enough time to get her genre mojo working to pull off the plan she’d been cooking up ever since the Market.
Ree sat down with a mug of coffee, her Force FX lightsaber in her lap, and pressed play on
Episode IV
.
All right, MacKenzie, you have no idea how pwned you are about to be.
Chapter Fifteen
Sunday in the Park with George (Lucas)
America’s Sweetheart Rachel MacKenzie is fresh off her Golden Globe win and filming another drama, this time alongside action veteran Julian Douglas.
Rachel made a splash with
Downtown Girl
then built her reputation working with sitcom geniuses Isabell Grant and Xavier de Cruxes. After a standout performance in the ensemble
Thanksgiving
, Rachel has gone from hit to hit. But will her upcoming divorce throw a roadblock in Rachel’s seemingly sure path to becoming an all-time star in the firmament of Hollywood?
—Vlada Janczuk, StraightDope.com, May 19, 2012
Ree arrived at Miner Park just after 3 PM, which made it all too easy to get lost in the crowd. She knew this park, knew where people went boating, where they picnicked, where they hid to get naked, and the one place where someone could be truly alone, as long as that someone had bodyguards to enforce it.
She spotted the first bodyguard fifteen feet off the path, near the western edge of the park. He wore a black hoodie, but underneath the hoodie was a starched white shirt, and his shoes could have walked right off of Fifth Avenue.
John Williams’s music played on loop in her mind, the energy of her boundless love for Star Wars taking musical form as soundtrack for the coming ass-kickery.
How awesome is this? Was it like this for you, too, mom? Did you have your own London Symphony Orchestra in your head when you went a-Jedi-ing?
Something else she wished she could ask her mom.
Ree spotted a guy she recognized from the set.
But for now, you are first, my un-Sith friend.
Throwing back her (brown) hoodie, Ree caught the bodyguard’s attention. The man raised his hand, stepping forward.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, this part of the park is closed.”
Bullshit
, she thought, but kept the invective in. Instead, she passed her hand in front of the man’s face and said, “You need to go get a coffee.”
The man’s eyes glazed over, and in a monotone voice, he said, “I need to go get a coffee.” The bodyguard looked right past her and walked back toward the path. The nearest coffee hut was a five-minute walk away, on the opposite side of the park.
Boom.
Ree guessed where Rachel would be luxuriating, and cut wide, moving through the outer brush of a copse of trees, looking for the other guard. Ree figured she’d have at least two, maybe three with her, and the more she could neutralize before confronting MacKenzie, the fewer moving parts in play, the lower her chances of this turning into a written-by-Jared-Sorensen-style Fiasco.
She spotted the second guard pacing around an old pine tree, checking his phone.
Your lack of professionalism is your weakness
, she thought in her best Luke Skywalker voice.
Ree thought of the scene where Obi-Wan snuck his way to the tractor beam controls as she tried to mask her movements. The soundtrack still loomed large in her mind, the volume only having dimmed from a 9 to about an 8 after her mind trick. She was still figuring out some of the fine details of Geekomancy, but it meant she still had pleasant surprises now and then.
Note to self: Watching Star Wars from infancy means you get more bang for your watching buck.
As she watched, she realized the bodyguard was far enough out of the way that she could afford to do . . . this.
Ree pulled out a blaster rifle prop used by a storm trooper and set it to stun. She waited for the guard to turn and face her, just because it was fun, then squeezed the trigger. A zwap sound accompanied the blue circles of light, and the guard dropped to the ground, his phone bouncing along the ground. Ree retrieved the phone, stripped the battery, and slipped it into her hoodie.
Two down. Now, is there a third?
Ree stopped and reached out with her mind, trying to sense the other minds in the area. As soon as she concentrated, she was hit by a wave of sensation, like she’d turned the TV on with the volume left on max. She stumbled back, her concentration broken. The music dimmed to a 6, and Ree wrote that approach off of her Usable Tactics list.
Since ESP was out of the question (Ree stopped to marvel at how awesome a thought that was), she continued with the sneaky-sneak approach, this time unassisted, and tried to watch for snatches of black clothing or fancy shoes as she circled back through a populated area, with picnickers and slightly-too-much-PDA-ers to a bend where the lake fed a river down and to the east.
Ree stepped along the edge of the river, keeping her eyes peeled. By her best guess, she’d come nearly three-quarters of the circle around toward the path where she’d started picking off the guards, and called it good as her inner orchestra faded down to about a 5, moving from “Binary Sunset” to “The Imperial March.”
It’s go time.
Ree picked her way through the brush, trying to give herself the densest cover as she approached. She came in from the east, hoping MacKenzie would be facing the sun.
Another gentle push of magic to guide her silently through the trees . . . and she saw through to Rachel MacKenzie’s hideaway.
America’s Sweetheart reclined on an alpaca blanket, wearing a yellow floral-print sundress. As Ree suspected, she faced the sun.
Ree knew she only had a second or two before MacKenzie noticed her. She scanned the glade to make sure there wasn’t another bodyguard lurking, then stepped into the clearing and activated her lightsaber, saying, “Are you ready for your close-up?”
Rachel flipped over, pulling her sunglasses up to look at Ree. “What the hell?” she said, then sat up and reached for her bag.
Ree had no idea what was in her bag but didn’t feel like risking it. She reached out to Rachel’s bag and became the envy of thousands of geeks (including Silent Bob) as the purse leaped from the blanket and into Ree’s outstretched hand.
That’s so cool!
Ree thought, trying to keep her serious face on as she stared MacKenzie down, dropping the purse to the ground.
MacKenzie stood, one hand out to her side. The superstar drew her glasses down with her other hand. Ree had never seen Celebromancy used offensively, but she wasn’t prepared to write anything off. Hence the purse sitting at her feet.
“What do you want?” MacKenzie asked.
Ree took another step forward, the lightsaber humming in concert with the fading music in her mind. She didn’t have much Jedi mojo left, so she’d have to use it carefully. “I want you to dispel the curse you placed on Jane Konrad. Now.”
Rachel smiled an insincere smile. “So it was you impersonating the reporter. Not many magicians in town that can pull off that level of mimicry and also give two shits about Jane.”
“One is enough. So are you going to do it, or are things going to get messy?” She waved the lightsaber just enough to make the familiar
whmm
sound.
Rachel took a single sultry step toward Ree, her hips moving as if in slow-mo.
“Why don’t you put those toys down so we can talk like reasonable adults?” The woman oozed charm, and Ree had no doubt she was running the same Majesty-esque effect Ree had seen Jane use at the panel.
Ree steeled her mind against the charm and built a wall of grit, anger, and the ambient awesomeness of her arsenal.
“Why don’t you stop right there before I stun you into next Friday? I have lots of tricks, and friends in the local police department. All you have is a pair of unconscious and absent guards.”
The star chuckled. “Good thing I brought three guards.”
Ree heard movement back and to one side and turned just in time to see a big bald white man fire a shotgun at her face.
There were lots of ways that Ree would have ended up dead. If she’d chosen another film or TV show, or if she’d used up all of her power on showy displays.
Luckily, she had just enough magical oomph left to use Force Speed and race to the side, dodging the spray of pellets.
Ree raised the blaster and returned fire, not willing to cut a man down for doing his job. The bodyguard ducked behind a tree, and the stun waves rolled past him. He popped back out and fired again, aiming at Ree’s center of mass.
Running on magical fumes, Ree dodged again, but with less speed. Several pellets hit her like razors, shredding her hoodie and leaving her with a handful of painful lesions. Ree stumbled back, then fired with the blaster again, reconsidering her pacifism.
The bodyguard ducked back behind the tree, but she saw the man grimace as the wave rolled over him. As she closed on the guard, Ree deactivated the lightsaber and slid it into her hoodie’s pouch, exchanging it for an extendable beatstick. She snapped the baton open, then jumped forward and swung. The guard blocked with his shotgun, but while he was blocking, he wasn’t shooting or reloading, which Ree took as a win.
But of course, while she was fighting the guard, Rachel was probably getting away. Ree feinted a low reverse with the baton, then dove forward to strike the bodyguard in the nose with the butt of her club. He took the shot and went down in a heap. She spun in place, buzzing with pain and adrenaline.
Rachel MacKenzie was at the edge of the clearing, heading south through the brush. She’d be back on the path in moments, and Ree would be nothing more than a crazed fan assaulting a superstar.
Shit shit shit. This plan was really cool in my head. Where the hell had that third one come from?
She should have spotted him. No one said Celebromancy could detract attention as well as attracting it.
Unless Rachel was the distraction.
Motherfucker.
Ree fired the blaster again, but Rachel had broken the tree line, and the blast dissipated among the trees.
“Help! Help me!” Rachel screamed, her voice muted by the foliage.
Oh, fuck this.
Ree realized there was no way she was going to pull this out now. She’d lost control of the situation, and needed to tend to her bullet wounds, pronto. If she pursued the superstar, she’d just get herself arrested.
Ree turned hard on her heels and started running north, her fastest way out of the park. She stunned the guard with one more blast, just in case he was playing possum.
It was time for her to GTFO. Ree poured on the speed, threw up her hoodie, and cut through the brush with the lightsaber, using the weapon like a science fantasy machete to clear her way.
I am soo screwed
, Ree thought as she checked over her shoulder on the way out of the park. She deactivated the lightsaber and stowed the blaster in her hoodie pouch, then tried her best to look like a normal jogger, despite the blood and tears on her hoodie and the wounds on her arm.
She kept up the
oh, shit
pace for several blocks out of the park, holding the jangling props in the hoodie’s pouch, and then slowing to a quick walk to put more distance between her and whatever security/police/beatdown Rachel MacKenzie could bring to bear.
• • •
Ree went home first, using another
Descent
potion and hoping that the police wouldn’t beat her there. She changed and started pacing her room with urgency.
What’s my next move?
She had to slow herself down to focus, clear her mind, and push back the loop of self-deprecation that had been running in her head all the way from the park, yelling at herself for not being careful enough, going off half-cocked like a kid on a damn-fool idealistic crusade.
For at least the second (third?) time in a week, Ree wished she’d stolen Eastwood’s Psychic Paper. It’d be a big fucking stretch to use it as a get-out-of–jail-free card, but she wouldn’t pass up any help.
She pulled out her old set of glasses, which were even larger and chunkier than her current pair, hopefully chunkier enough to look different. She stuffed her normal glasses in the hoodie and topped off the look with a brown fedora from Goorin Brothers. She tied her hair in a quick braid and pinned it up under the hat.
There. That should be a different enough look to help her move around without as much worry.
So, options:
Calling dad won’t help, though he would happily hop on a plane and take on the Pearson PD by himself if I asked.
The cops will go to the set as soon as they get more info about me, so that won’t be safe.
Café Xombi’s out, too. I couldn’t put Bryan in that much heat.
Grognard’s is probably the safest hideout, since it’s off the street. But I need to warn Jane that things went south. And Drake should know not to come looking for me.
But if she went to Grognard’s, she’d also have to deal with her boss’s wrath over the fact that she’d gotten thousands of dollars’ worth of equipment broken.
So, Grognard or the cops, who was she more afraid of? Ree chuckled at the question, but it was all nerves bubbling over.
Ree pulled out her phone and dialed Jane’s number.
Please pick up.
The phone rang once, and Ree bent open her blinds to look down the street for squad cars.
It rang again, and Ree started tapping her feet. “Come on, Jane.”
The line picked up during the third ring. Jane sounded positively electric. “Hello?”
“Thank Jeebus. Have the cops come by?”
“Are you all right?”
“I fucked up bad, Jane. And if Rachel is smart, I’ve probably got an APB out for me right now.”
Ree swore she could hear Jane’s smile. “Not anymore, hon. I took care of it.”
A beat passed as Ree tried to process. “Shubba-what-now?”
“It’s taken care of. A detective came by with two squad cars of backup, but I handled it. You should be fine.”
“I repeat—what?”
“Celebromancy is a lot more than instant makeup and playing to the room. But you should come by so we can talk.”
“And I won’t get surrounded by a bajillion cops along the way?”
Jane laughed, her energy infectious. “Of course not.”
“And you’re not saying this because the cops are there making you be the bait so they can bring me in?” Ree asked, thinking of the dozens of TV episodes she’d seen with just such a move.