Chess Games In Cairo: An August Smith Adventure, #3

Funeral

August Smith was crying his eyes out. Two of his best friends had died.

Four years ago, at age nineteen, he had left the farm where he had grown up. And made his way to the city of Los Angeles. Once there, he had found a job at a movie and television company called Diamond Studios. A lot had happened since his first day there. First there had been a serial killer, who had roamed the neighborhood of Hollywood. This had been followed by a Mad Taxi Bomber and a land dispute over a town called Bullhorn, Indiana.  During these crazy, roller-coaster, years he had become the father of a beautiful daughter called Andromeda Julia. He had also found somebody to share life with. Her name was April Tanaka. She was not Andromeda Julia’s, or AJ’s, biological mother. But she didn’t care. April loved AJ bas if she was her own flesh and blood. April and AJ were not the only people whom had entered his life. The people at Diamond Studios were like a family. A crazy, dysfunctional family that was in serious need of psychological therapy. But still a family. At the head of said family had been Ruth and Alexander Mackenzie. Two days ago, their housekeeper had found them. They had passed away peacefully in their sleep. The announcement had hit the studio staff like a punch to the gut. In fact, it had been so shattering to morale that production had grounded to a halt. Today, the studio was nearly empty. Everybody – from the janitor to biggest star – were here to say goodbye. The only people not in attendance were the security staff. They had wanted to come, but apparently that would have created issues with the studios insurance. So August was far from alone as he cried. He watched as the coffins were slowly lowered into the graves. The priest was talking but August didn’t hear the words. Finally the funeral was over and the crowd began walking away. August’s legs felt like lead as he walked. After what felt like forever, they reached the car. He was aware that there were other people around him, but he was too tunnel-visioned to notice who they were. He sat in the back. His heart was heavy and his body was exhausted, so he closed his eyes and fell asleep.

Resuming Work

Three days had passed since the Mackenzies had been buried. Today was Monday and it had been decided that production would resume this week. Making the decision had been job the Council of Elders. The first member of Council was the Studio Accountant, Marcus O’Neill. On Saturday, he and Angus Janssen had emailed all the employees and asked them to come in today. Janssen was member number two of the Council, on account of him being the Chief Writer. At the moment, O’Neill and Janssen were headed for The Shoebox. Said room was called that because it was tiny. It was from here that the studios PA system was operated. O’Neill stuck his head inside the booth.

Nice announcement, He began. Come on, we need to go.

Right, Said the person inside the booth. Time to get this over with.

Maggie Wallace was Head of Make-Up and the third member of the Council. She had been the one to use the PA system to break the news that production was resuming. The three of them headed for Ruth Mackenzie’s old office. When they got there, the last two members of the Council were already in the room.

Dennis, John, O’Neill said.

Morning, John Wallace said. Good speech, honey.

Maggie sat down next to John, who was her husband. He was also the Studio Medic. Completing the Council was the Head of Security, Dennis Smith. It was no coincidence that he and August shared a last name, as they were father and son. As the ground gathered, August was making his way through the main gate. His heart was still heavy, making the last three days feel like an eternity. Yet, seeing his father made him crack as small smile. He found a place to sit in the now-crammed office.

Morning, dad.

Morning, August, Dennis began. So why are we here?

Mister Harris is going to open the will, Marcus O’Neill said. He should be here soon.

Samuel ‘Sam’ Harris was one of the senior lawyers at Harris, Anders and Jones. The firm had been the legal representative of Diamond Studios since it had been founded. As if on cue, Harris arrived. Despite being a senior partner in the firm, he hated wearing suits. Instead, he wore a jeans and Hawaii shirt. Which did not go well with his Caucasian skin and short, brown hair. Not to mention the pair of really ugly sunglasses he was wearing. But he stalwartly ignored anybody who pointed that out. 

Stop calling me Mister Harris, He began. It makes me feel like I’m three-hundred years old. ~Instead of the thirty years I am.~ Harris thought. Now.... He sat down in Ruth’s old chair. ...let’s get this over with."

Okay, Marcus said, his tone making it clear that he’d rather have a root canal then be here.

Harris took off his sunglasses, revealing his green eyes. Then he put a folder on the desk and opened it. The first page of the document inside had a list of names. These were the people whom had to be there when the will was read. Everybody on the list was already in the office, so Harris could get started right away. Which was fine with him. He had liked the Mackenzies and dealing with their will was not fun.

Ruth and Alexander have three children, two daughters and one son. None of the children want to take over running the studio. So they intended to leave the studio to Robert Dillion, the owner of Xerxes Studios. But Robert Dillion died before they did, so we’re on Plan C now. He paused. Which is as follows...eighty percent of the shares are now the property of mister Kurt Eriks. Ten percent go to you, Mister Janssen. It says..., Harris chuckled. ...to consider this as a pay raise, you old fart.

This got a laugh from the entire office, after which Sam continued to read.

The remaining ten percent is split into two chunks of five percent. The first is for Maggie and John Wallace, while the other is for Marcus O’Neill.

Is there more? August asked.

Their house is to be sold, the proceeds to be donated to the Los Angeles Police Department for the youth outreach program. And finally, Francis DeMarco’s contract is secured until 2035. DeMarco owned a food truck and was the studio caterer. That’s it. His task done, Harris closed the folder and left the office. August leaned back and took a deep breath. Diamond Studios was entering a new period. And he had a feeling that everything would be different.

Two days later, Kurt Eriks was headed for the Diamond Studios lot. Eriks had once been the studio’s Head of Security. That stint had ended when he had been offered a job by a private military contract. ~Which was not all it was cracked up to be.~ He reached the main gate and signed in. The security guard gave him a nod.

Welcome back, sir.

Thank you.

So what brought you back ?

The Fax, Eriks said, causing the guard to make a face. Don’t ask.

He continued inside. What he did not tell the guard was that Sam Harris had faxed him the Mackenzies will. So he had quit his PMC job and headed here. Walking onto the studio lot felt like coming home after a long vacation. But the lot was not entirely as he remembered it. Around the time of the Mad Taxi Bomber’s attacks – a little over two years ago - it had been decided to remodel parts of the studio to make it more secure. Kurt looked around and realized that said remodel was now done. While the buildings looked the same on the outside, they had undergone major work on the inside.

Not bad, he said with a smile. Not bad at all.

He made his way into the office and took the elevator to the top floor. It was one of the few areas of the studio that remained unaltered. And yet, the offices that had belonged to the Mackenzies were very different from how they had been the last time Kurt had gone inside. Marcus O’Neill’s old office had been a broom closet with a desk. Now he was moving into Alexander’s office. Before he could do that he needed to organize Alexander’s stuff. Which was no easy feat.

Hi, Marcus, Kurt said. How is it going?

It’s going to take ages to organize all this, Marcus said. Alexander was great at making movies and accounting, but organizing his office..., He shook his head. ....not so much.

Good luck.

Kurt walked into Ruth’s office. The place was a mess, with papers all over her desk. There were scripts, notes, photographs, drawings and all sorts of other junk. He sighed at the sight. ~This is WAY too much work to do on just three hours of sleep.~ He had taken a train to get here, spending most of the trip cancelling his rent and arranging for his stuff to be shipped to Los Angeles. There had also been the issue of arranging a hotel room near the studio lot. So he had not been able to sleep on the train. It arrived four hours ago. He had managed to get three hours of sleep, before getting ready to head here. ~And here I am.~ This was going to be a long day.

Bert and Dakota

Bert Karens looked in the mirror and nodded. His uniform was looking good. Now all he needed was for his partner to show up. Karens was a young cop. At the start of his career, he had been sucked into the Mad Taxi Bomber case. It had been a crazy start of his days in Law Enforcement. He had nearly been killed during the Bomber case. In the years since, his career had been uneventful. Which was fine with Bert.

Here’s to another day of boredom, He said while smiling at the mirror. The less action, the better.

He looked around his apartment. All of his stuff was packed up in boxes. When he had been wounded during the Bomber case, he had ended up in a hospital. There, he had met a beautiful Australian nurse called Dakota Harris. She had dazzling green eyes, impossibly soft Caucasian skin and long, blond hair. In the years since, he and Dakota had fallen in love. Two weeks ago, they had decided to move in together. As soon as that was done, he would ask her to marry him. He headed for the door.

Headed to work?

He turned to see Dakota standing in the doorway to his bedroom. She was only wearing a white T-shirt. They had spent the night together, but he had still managed to get some sleep. His eyes wandered to her hair. Yesterday, she had gone to a beauty parlor. She had come back with a pixie cut. It was good look for her, but he was still getting used to it. He push the thoughts aside.

Yeah, meeting the new Captain. His older superior, Captain Anna Ryder had been promoted to leadership of the LAPD’s Counter Terrorism Group. "He, or she, is coming in for the first