Tonya Muir - Exposure Season 1

"I want airtime," he says as he slings the gun over his shoulder.

"Everyone wants airtime, buddy. We’re a nation of television-worshipping freaks. Why should you be any different?"

"Because I have a gun."

"Hardly different. Shit, half the fucking high schoolers in the nation carry an illegal handgun."

"I have a gun and I’ll use it on her." He flicks it toward Kelsey.

"You’ll only have one try. And you better pop me first. Because, I swear to God, if you even think about hurting her, I’ll kill you."

"I want airtime," he repeats.

"Well, get my gear and we’ll see what we can work out in exchange."

"Exchange? Exchange for what? I’m holding all the cards here."

"Really? Can you run my camera?"

He shuffles for a second then orders one of his flunkies to get my gear. "Exchange for what?"

I jerk my thumb over my shoulder. "Let her go. I’ll stay and run the camera. She’s just a reporter. If all you want to do is run your mouth, you don’t need her."

"We’ll talk about it," Scamp grumbles before pulling the door shut. As it closes, I hear him mumble something that really sounds like ‘feminist bitch’.

I turn to Kels and grin. "Wonder how he’d feel if I called him a gun-toting, Nazi son of a bitch!" I lift my voice for the last five words.

I watch as Kels sits up and takes a deep breath before she turns to me. "I’m not."

"You’re not what?"

"Leaving you in here by yourself."

"Kels, let’s be rationale about this."

"Don’t argue with me, Harper. I’m not leaving you and you can live with it. We have a story to tell here. And we’re going to tell it together."

I shake my head a bit. She does manage to pull it together when the chips start falling. I do admire that quality. And her breasts. I like them too.

She stands, crossing to the window. "The light and the larger room help. I’ll be okay."

"Kelsey, don’t be difficult…"

She spins around to look at me with a little smile on her face. "Hey, I’m the Talent here. Being difficult is in my contract." Her grin widens a little as she steps forward and runs her hand up the front of my denim shirt from my waist to shoulder, right along the seam of buttons. "Wouldn’t want me to do anything to jeopardize my contract, now would you?"

In so many ways, on so many levels, Kels. You have no idea. "Uh, no," I manage to lie.

"Didn’t think so," she pauses as she looks to me, "partner."

I smile and nod. I believe, for the first time, she really means it when she calls me her partner. Now all we gotta do is work out that ‘not in a sexual sense’ detail.

"Okay, partner," I clear my throat a little as I take her hand from my shoulder. God, her hands are soft. "I won’t ask you to do something you don’t want to do." Okay, now that is a bit of a stretch. I would, but it’d be in the bedroom and involve a blindfold and a feather. Besides, I think she’d like that anyhow.

The door opens and two of Head Nimrod’s Junior Nimrods bring my gear in. Christ, boys, I haul all this shit myself. What’s the matter with you? I want to say it out loud, but that might actually entice them to fuck the gear up. And I don’t want to do that. Chambers will have my ass for Kelsey being held hostage as it is. If I come back with even a scratch on the equipment, he’ll piss himself for sure.

As I’m going through my gear, several things occur to me. I’m going to need fresh batteries from the van, and by this request, Scamp is giving the police a direct line into the compound. As I kneel by my gear, Kels joins me.

"Anything I can do?"

Short of getting naked and letting me cover your body with mine? Instead, I say, "Yeah, dig all my batteries out of my pack, will you?" I slide the bag over as I give the Betacam a good going over.

"Well, well, look at what I found." She is laughing at me as she holds up my secret stash of Twinkies.

I snatch the package and toss it to the bed, grumbling good-naturedly. "Great for a quick energy rush," I explain. "Besides, I enjoy licking the cream out with my tongue."

I knew that would get a groan. She doesn’t disappoint.

I decide to have mercy on her and distract her. "Tell me the story here, Kels."

She sits back on her heels, and considers my request. I watch as she silently runs through a few leads. Finally, she says, "How about this. ‘The public image of "cults" is one of mind-control, occasional violence and social irresponsibility. But that’s just one part of the story. We came to Omaha, Nebraska, to look at a different kind of cult, one that calls itself the Chosen Family.’ What do you think, Tabloid?

"No, but we could use that for the sidebar lead. First we have to report the takeover and Sam’s shooting. I sure hope that Olson got good footage at the gate. If not, I’m gonna whip his orange-haired ass."

Kels chuckles, "He has orange hair on his ass?"

I scowl, but she is unaffected. "You know what I meant. Now, try again."

She salutes, "Yes, sir!" Once again, she concentrates for a long moment. "How’s this for the teaser: ‘Violence and death erupted today in a quiet community that was originally created to provide a safe haven for the abused and abandoned of our society. KNBC was on the scene when social consciousness confronted social violence. The result of that confrontation is our Exposure feature for the evening.’"

"Good." I like it, a lot. "And with any luck, not that we’ve experienced a helluva lot so far, the random footage I got from either the micro cam or the beta will support it. Now, what do you want for the lead?" It’s nice to see her relaxed again. She’s in her element now, telling the story. Give the woman a little space, a little light, and a breaking news story and she’s just fine. I idly wonder how many of our competitors are camped out there alongside the National Guard. Wonder what type of odds they’re giving us. Olson better be smart enough to put down some money for me.

Kels’ voice interrupts my thoughts. "’In a quiet community outside of Omaha, Nebraska, created to provide a sanctuary for those who were cast out, abused and abandoned by society, the very violence that the founders of "The Chosen Family" tried to escape emerged today with tragic results. Exposure came here to look at a different kind of cult, one created to protect people from the violence and hatred that plagues our society today. But a small faction of dissatisfied residents staged a violent coup, killing founder Sam Stevenson right in front of Exposure’s cameras.’"

"If it bleeds, it leads," I reply. "Nice."

The door opens and Scamp is staring down at us again. I get to my feet and help Kels up as well. No way in hell are we going to be on our knees in front of this son of a bitch. Kelsey takes her customary position, right next to me. You know, I kinda like that.

"Feeling better, blondie?"

"It’s Ms. Stanton to you, jerk off," she growls. Guess she has decided to join me in our little game of defiance. Work does wonders for her disposition.

"I’ll take that as a yes." He looks to me. "You give us airtime and your little friend can go."

"I’m staying," Kels responds immediately. "We’re a team. We came in together and we’ll leave together."

"Suit yourself."

I nod toward the door. "If you still want airtime, I’m going to need gear from the van. Fresh tapes and batteries."

"One of my men will walk you out." He swings the barrel of the gun at Kels. "She stays here to make sure you don’t do anything stupid."

Bringing her here was stupid. I’m going to find my friend at the bar and beat the ever-lovin’ hell out of him when we get home.

Kelsey doesn’t say anything. She simply bends at the waist and retrieves my backpack, thrusting it into my hands. "Hurry back, Tabloid. I’ll be practicing the lead while you’re gone."

"As quick as I can, Little Roo, as quick as I can."

If we didn’t have an audience, I’d kiss her again. Instead, I have to settle for a wink and a smile. This makes me think of the Harry Connick Jr. song of the same title. Wish we were in the Big Easy listening to Harry croon right now. Then I’d show her why we gave New Orleans that quaint little nickname.

I turn and leave the room. When I hear the door close and lock behind me, my throat and heart drop right into my stomach like a rock. I hate leaving her behind.

<to be continued>

Scenes from next week’s Must Read TV:

The only thing that is keeping me from killing him right now is the fact that I know I’ll get shot and Kels will never get out alive.

<cut to>

I glance back over my shoulder to see how stupid he looks. Okay, it might work. "You might want to stay here."

"Why?"

"Microwaves are bad for your … umm… performance abilities, if you know what I mean."

The look of horror on his face makes it clear that he does. "What about the guy in the van?"

"Oh, that’s why we hired him for the job. He can’t get it up anyhow. Bicycle accident as a kid." I shrug, as if it’s no big deal. I hope to hell Olson doesn’t have a directional mike on me; otherwise, he’s gonna be pissed.

"Go ahead." He takes an extra step away from the van. Can’t be too careful, you know.

Jesus, there’s nothing more dangerous than a moron with a gun

Scenes from Last Week’s Must read TV:

The request is made and she opens up to me. Our kiss is long, deep and passionate. God, she tastes good. No wonder Elizabeth flies across the damn country to have more of her. I’d crawl.

<cut to>

I can see up the slight slope surrounding the compound. There, on the ridge, are cops of all kinds and the National Guard surrounding the place.

Just fucking wonderful.

Well, if the ATF doesn’t get involved, we might survive this.

<cut to>

I nod toward the door. "If you still want airtime, I’m going to need gear from the van. Fresh tapes and batteries."

"One of my men will walk you out." He swings the barrel of the gun at Kels. "She stays here to make sure you don’t do anything stupid."

<cut to>

I turn and leave the room. When I hear the door close and lock behind me, my throat and heart drop right into my stomach like a rock. I hate leaving her behind.

Episode Ten: Skyrockets in Flight

There are a lot of people in this compound, but there’s only one that I give a good goddamn about. And these freaks had better hope nothing happens to her while I’m gone or they’ll learn how many ways I can inflict pain and exactly how goddamn good I am at it.

I’m walking in front of another gun-toting dumb ass with my hands up. No way in hell do I want to be mistaken for one of these crazies. I want to make it perfectly clear that I’m the victim here. I snort as that thought crosses my mind. Victim, riiiight. I’ve never been a victim in my life. I’m not even one now, but I may as well let them think I am.

As we step outside the building where they’re holding us, Head Nimrod, a.k.a. Scamp, joins us on the porch. "Okay, Tabloid." He grins at me. "That is what your little friend called you, isn’t it?"

"Yeah, and she can call me that all she wants, but if you do it again, I’ll take your lungs out through your nose."

"Watch it," he warns, his voice low and serious. "You’re walking out of here and blondie is still inside with me. If you’re not good, I’ll go back in there and show her what a real man can do for her."

The only thing that is keeping me from killing him right now is the fact that I know I’ll get shot and Kels will never get out alive. "It always comes down to fucking something over for losers like you, doesn’t it?"

"If you behave, she’ll be unharmed. If not, know that she will be cursing your name for leaving her behind, not mine." He leans back against the wooden railing, folding his arms across his chest, fixing me with a level stare.

My stomach rolls at the thought of him with his hands on Kels and I return his stare. "Stay away from her."

He smirks at me and waves his hand to the junior nimrod. There is a poke in my back as I am nudged down the steps. I watch the cops and National Guard watch me as we make our way up the slight incline, away from the compound, and outside the main gate. It clangs shut behind us. I now have guns pointed at my front and my behind. Suddenly, I’m ready to join my family on a march for gun control. Right now would be nice.