Michele Bravo Playing With Fire Chapter 10

I.

The cab dropped Michele Bravo off in front of a building with a large sign bearing the words, The Actors’ Space.

In setting up her scenario for Gus Keller, she had rejected using some of her agents from her security business. She had equally rejected using some of the toughs she knew in her identity as the assassin Taran Tula. She was going to put Keller through the ringer, and for that she needed professional actors who could act like professional gunmen, not professional gunmen who probably couldn’t act at all.

She’d browsed through a few Australian actor’s websites, until she’d come across Jan Janasz, the owner of The Actor’s Space and founder of Breakaway Theatre Group, which put on productions there. He’d been searching for angels. Michele had smiled when she’d seen this, and promptly emailed him with a proposition. She’d always had an interest in acting and producing plays – perhaps not surprising considering her profession.

Michele opened the door to The Actor’s Space and walked in. The foyer was empty, but there was a door marked Office which was half open.

She knocked on the door and then pushed it open. A man was seated at a desk, typing two-fingeredly on a computer keyboard. He was in his early thirties, but already bald, with a fringe of sandy hair closecut along the sides and at the back.

“I’m Marguerite Zelle,” she said, in her Italian accent.

He stood up, a broad smile lighting his face, and shook her hand. “I’m Jan Janasz. Delighted to meet you.”

“Is the rest of the company here?”

“All that you wanted for the first scene, yes. They’re on stage.”

He escorted her through a second door in the foyer, which led into the theatre proper. On the stage were three men. Two of them were fencing desultorily, the third was perched on a table, watching. Janasz led the way down the aisle and up onto the stage. It was a stage that thrust out into the middle of the audience…a theatre in the round.

“The two men playing around with the foils are Darrow, on the left, and Adams on the right.”

Michele had gained the stage by this time. She shook hands with both of them, conscious of their eyes on her.

“And the man lazing about on the table is Tiny,” finished Janasz.

Tiny slid off the table and rose to his full height – six foot six, with musculature to match. He was built like an American football player – a running back. This was all the more apparent because he wore a singlet, revealing wonderful biceps.

“My goodness,” said Michele as she shook his hand. To herself she thought, “I’m going to have to expand Tiny’s scenes.”

Tiny grinned and ducked his head shyly.

“Well, gentlemen,” said Michele. She opened her briefcase and took out four sheafs of paper. “Mr. Janasz…”

“Just call me Jan,” he interpolated.

“Jan,” she said, smiling at him. “Jan has explained the situation to you. For the next month you and the rest of your company are to be on call to help me with a little Theater of Life event I’m running for a client of mine. I’m a professional assassin, he’s a professional assassin, and you three have hired us to kill a wealthy jewelry collector here in Sydney. I’ve written out the scenarios for you” – she handed them each a sheaf of paper – “and we’ll play our first scene together tomorrow night. Jan…you said it’ll be at your house?”

“Yes, here’s the address.” Jan handed her a slip of paper.

“Very good. Now, please memorize the scenarios and your character descriptions. You’ll be ad-libbing all of your dialog…I depend on you all to stay in character and keep it believable. My client wants to believe you are all dangerous men, but that you defer to him as the most dangerous man, you see. And to myself as well, of course,”

The four actors nodded.

“You’ve got all the weapons?” she asked.

“Yes – I’ve got a friend in the movie business here. A rifles with a sniper scopes, several handguns. All of them look just like the real thing, but of course fire only blanks.”

“Very good. Remember, gentlemen, these scenarios take place only between your theater group, and me and my client. No one else is to be involved in this.”

Jan nodded. “Understood.”

“Well, Jan, Tiny, Darrow, Adams, I’m looking forward to working with you. I will see you all tomorrow at 7 pm.”

She shook hands with them again, and then Jan escorted her out of the theatre.

II.

“Well, Tiny, you were a big hit as usual,” said Adams to that large man somewhat enviously. “She could barely take your eyes off you.”

Tiny grinned. “It’s my curse,” he said.

Darrow was paging through his script. “This looks like it can be a lot of fun, but…Jan….”

“Yes?”

“I’m just…nervous. She’s paying a lot of money for this…this Theater of Life event. Don’t you find that a bit suspicious?”

“Not at all,” Jan scoffed. “There’s plenty of rich blokes that want to get their adventure vicariously. Some do it on Mystery Trains or Mystery Weekends, or whatever, this guy wants to make it a Mystery Month. If he’s got the cash, why not? And it’s going to set up our productions of Rhinoceros and Orson’s Shadow quite nicely.”

“Well,” said Darrow stubbornly…”Why did this woman, this Marguerite Zelle, pick us?”

“Perhaps she heard good things about us,” Jan said impatiently. “It is possible, you know. Besides, I didn’t go into this entirely blind. I did look her up on the web. Marguerite Zelle has been writing theater reviews for Stage Views for ten years. And she’s produced a couple of plays, too. So if she’s…going commercial now with this Theater of Life venture..well, why not?”

“It *is kind of funny, considering her name,” mused Tiny.

They looked at the gentle giant. “What do you mean?” asked Jan.

“Well…Marguerite Zelle. That was the real name of Mata Hari.”

Darrow laughed and slapped his thigh. “Brilliant,” he commented.

Jan grinned. “Shows she’s got a sense of humor, doesn’t it? Well, fellows, we’ve got characters to develop. Let’s get to work.”

And, still chuckling, he opened up his own script and began to read.