Page 23 of Nothing Special X: The Last Stand

“We normally leave deliveries at the service entrance,” the guard said.

“Yeah, well,” Ruxs sighed dramatically, “Tiffany in catering and that little intern guy, Micah, insisted we hand deliver everything ourselves because somebody screwed up the vegan orders last week and now everybody’s traumatized.”

Green almost smiled.

Free had hacked most of the crew’s social media accounts in under seven minutes last night so they could get some real names.

Tiffany had posted last week about the meals the crew ordered from some place that took over two hours to deliver, and Micah bitched about the lack of vegan options at fast food places.

“We ain’t gonna be responsible for bad reviews and get fired. I can’t afford that shit,” Ruxs added. “I got a past due car payment.”

The guards exchanged looks.

Green watched their uncertainty carefully.

None of them seemed to know the procedure well enough to challenge the story.

That was the dangerous part.

Ruxs shifted one bag down and unzipped it enough to reveal the steaming pizza boxes.

“Hell,” Green added casually, “take a slice if y’all want. Best pizza in the city. We deliver to half the celebrities in Malibu and the Hills.”

A younger guard leaned forward checking their contents. “For real?”

“Last week we dropped off six pies to some actress with three tigers living in her backyard,” Ruxs laughed.

“What?” The young guard gaped. “Man, I don’t get these damn celebrities.”

The guards laughed, getting way too relaxed.

The more serious one held his hand out. “You got IDs?”

Green handed over the fake credentials, but the guy barely glanced at them. He didn’t scan or verify anything or take time to compare the photos.

Eight security personnel standing at one of the biggest studio lots in California, and not one of them thought to pat down two strangers carrying oversized bags onto the property.

What the hell?

“All right,” the guard finally said. “Go ahead.”

The gate opened.

Green and Ruxs walked through.

After clearing the checkpoint, they rounded a row of production trailers and stopped to observe who was around.

No one.

Ruxs shook his head. “That was embarrassingly easy.”

Green glanced toward the gate. “Didn’t even pat us down.”

“Didn’t wand us neither.”

Green tapped the communications icon on his watch. “Post one breeched.”

There was no static or crackle in their high-tech comms pieces.