Nothing Special X: The Last Stand (Nothing Special #10)

Operation 1 First Class Chaos

Ruxs

Ruxs shifted his duffel higher on his shoulder and craned his neck, glaring at the endless maze of retractable belts and travelers clogging the TSA aisles at Atlanta International like inmates lining up for processing.

He tried to calm his annoyance with the thoughts of flying first class for the first time—wider leather seats, free drinks, and the relief of not having his knees crushed into the back of the chair in front of him.

Then he had another thought.

“With as much money as Wes and Law have, they could’ve chartered a private jet for us, don’t you think?”

He turned towards Green, expecting a grunt of agreement, but his partner— standing beside him in a black hoodie and dark jeans with his carry-on in one hand—gave him a flat stare.

But Tech never missed a chance to combat a valid complaint. “I think them flying us first class, and paying for four suites at the Luxford Beverly Hotel is more than generous.”

Day gulped the last of his coffee and shot him an annoyed glare. “Shut up and be grateful I even allowed your reckless asses to come.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Ruxs glanced around at the business suits, fussy toddlers, and tired travelers shuffling forward an inch at a time.

He growled at the zigzagging line again. “Why are we waiting in line when we have first class tickets? Can’t we go to the front or something?”

Tech gave him the kind of expression reserved for people who licked frozen light poles. “Seriously? Everyone has to go through TSA. First class tickets aren’t the same as Disneyland express passes.”

“Then how come Steele went right through?”

“Because,” Tech said, “he was smart enough to get PreCheck. I didn’t submit my application in time.”

Free thumbed nervously through his phone. “I hope I brought enough clothes, there’s so much I wanna do.”

“Don’t worry, I brought enough for both of us,” Tech smiled.

Free eyed Tech up and down. “Dressing like a prep-school chemistry professor isn’t really my style, Techy.”

Tech scowled as if he was insulted. “This vest happens to be Ralph Lauren and the bow tie is Hanauer, hand-stitched silk. You’d be lucky to wear this.”

“Then you need to wear a sign that says that because it looks like the same thing I see at the Men’s Warehouse downtown,” Ruxs laughed.

Free smiled sweetly, then leaned in and gave Tech a quick peck on the cheek. “But you wear it well.”

“Damn it,” Ruxs muttered, shifting his bag. “Can this line move any slower?”

Everyone turned and glared at him.

He glared right back. They were all thinking it but he was the only one frustrated enough to say it.

Free pulled out a worn, overhandled brochure. “Who’s going with me on the LA Grand Tour bus? I need to know how many tickets to get.”

“Not me,” Ruxs said without thought.

“Absolutely not,” Day added.

Green shook his head.

God didn’t even glance up from his phone.

Tech made a face. “Babe, none of us are interested in seeing Johnny Depp’s house or getting a glimpse of the Kardashian estate hidden behind twenty-foot trees.”

Free blinked. “But there’s other stuff too.” He held up the printout like an exhibit. “Let’s go to Rodeo Drive.”

“To stare at shit I can’t afford.” Tech shook his head.

“The Chinese Theatre?”

“Code for ‘get attacked by overzealous street performers.’”

“It also takes us on the Sunset Strip.”

“I’d go if I was looking for a prostitute. But I’m not.”

Free kept going. “At least let’s get a picture in front of the Hollywood sign.”

“From two hundred yards away.”

“Walk Venice Beach?”

“To feel sorry for all the homeless people.”

“The Santa Monica Pier?”

“I don’t fish.”

“It has rides too and the world’s only solar-powered Ferris wheel.”

“I’m not riding anything that was built over thirty years ago.”

Ruxs snorted as Tech and Free went back and forth. Even God’s mouth twitched, though he didn’t let it do much more.

Free sucked his teeth, glaring harder at the pamphlet with determination, “Oh. Griffith Park Observatory.”

Tech sighed. “Did you happen to pack thermal imaging goggles to see through the smog?”

“Of course not.”

“Then I’m not hiking an hour up a mountain to stare at a haze of air pollution.”

Ruxs and Day laughed.

“At least let’s do the Walk of Fame,” Free damn near whined, refusing to surrender. “It says it’s a must-experience attraction.”

“What we’re gonna experience is being pickpocketed,” Tech said. “And once our wallets are gone, how are we gonna afford the overpriced souvenirs?”

“Come on, guys.” Free lowered the pamphlet and looked around at them in disbelief. “Then what the hell are we gonna do?”

“Our fuckin’ jobs,” God said without lifting his head. “I don’t think Wes and Law intended to fund the six of us a vacation. We have shit to do.”

Free made a face. “We gotta do something fun. How often do we get to go to the West Coast and get a break from all the sickos in Atlanta?”

Day lifted a brow. “I know, right? Because there’s no sickos in Hollywood.”

Free turned desperate eyes on Tech. “Techy, please. I don’t wanna go alone.”

“Then take Ruxs.”

Free recoiled as if Tech had just suggested he hump the airport floor. “Hell no. I wanna have fun, not get arrested.”

He glanced back at Ruxs and winced. “No offense.”

Ruxs raised his middle finger.

Tech adjusted the cuff of his fancy jacket.

“Free, all I wanna do is eat a burrito that’s gonna change my taste buds forever and take advantage of the hotel spa and heated pool.

The rest of the time I plan on hanging out on a real movie set, watching next summer’s blockbuster get made, and playing in Wes and Law’s lab.

” Tech stared dreamily. “And if I see Michael B. Jordan or any of the actors from Bridgerton, I’ll consider the trip a success. ”

“Day, God, will you go with…”

“Don’t even finish that sentence, Free,” God rumbled.

“I miss Syn and Furi already.” Free rolled his eyes. “If Furi was here he’d go with me.”

“I know. Going on an operation without Syn just feels wrong,” Day said.

“It was his decision to stay,” God murmured. “Furi couldn’t just close his bike shop for an undetermined amount of time, and Syn’s been helping him out there during the day, so…”

“Fine then. I’ll go myself.” Free crumpled the brochure into a sad ball and stuffed it into his bag.

Ruxs watched Tech out of the corner of his eye, already knowing how this would go.

3, 2, 1—

“Okay, Freebaby.” Tech sighed. “After we fix Wes and Law’s issue, I’ll go on two of the things from your list. That’s it.”

Free lit up so fast it was embarrassing. He wrapped his arms around Tech from behind and kissed him again. He stayed draped over him as the line crept forward by another torturous half-step.

Ruxs shook his head.

Free had Tech wrapped around his little finger so tight it was a miracle he could still breathe. One sad pout, one hint of disappointment, and Tech folded like a cheap lawn chair.

“God. We’ve taken down gang members, drug lords, and entire cartels. I think we can handle an amateur stalker,” Ruxs said.

God finally looked up. “It’s not just one stalker. Wes said they want us providing protection at some of his friend’s bigger events, and to help overhaul the studio’s security force, which has been dropping the ball big-time.”

“We’re not bodyguards, Cash,” Day murmured.

“Can this line go any slower? What the hell are they doing up there, asking folks to remember their Google password to get through?” Ruxs growled.

They all ignored him.

Free was still beaming and attached to Tech.

“No, we’re not bodyguards, Day, but you do have years of experience protecting key witnesses. You’ve trained with SWAT your whole career. You can spot a hostile from a mile away.” Free pointed at Tech’s tablet. “And we can upgrade their systems. So, there’s a lot we can offer.”

Tech tapped his screen and cleared his throat, slipping into his favorite mode. Information. “I did some digging, but I’m sure most of you have heard the name Xander Vale.”

“Mm-hm,” Day said. “But give me something besides a stage name.”

Tech nodded. “Government name is Lane Xander Cross. Twenty-six years old. Adopted by Cheryl and Robert Cross, both pretty big movie producers. Xander started with commercials, then had a few appearances as a kid on some sitcoms.”

Day waved is hand in a circle as if saying, ‘move it along’.

Tech bit his bottom lip and scrolled faster.

“Okay, okay. He’s been in some decent stuff, where he started getting more recognition. But What Breaks in Silence is his first gay role. He played a closeted champion bull rider. Then after the release of the film, he came out publicly as a gay man.”

“Yeah, even I saw that one, it was pretty good,” Ruxs said. “And he looked sexy as hell in those chaps.”

Free reached over Tech’s shoulder, swiping his tablet and reading.

“Well the movie soared to the top. Like Academy-nominated top. It made him go from star to superstar. He and his film are beating out some really big names this awards season.” He looked at God.

“Which is a big deal because he’d be in the small group of openly gay men who’ve won an Academy Crown award or swept the best actor’s categories in everything from the Screen Guild Awards, Critics Circle Awards, Emblem Awards, Public Choice Awards, even the Britannia Film Honors Awards. ”

“And queue the homophobic haters,” Ruxs added.

“Precisely.” Tech angled the tablet so Day could see.

“There’s been some heated clap back about the graphic love scenes in the movie.

Fans and artists who haven’t appreciated the film getting so much recognition are growing bolder with the threats and social media attacks.

Not even including the backlash from the Abr. ”

Day frowned.

“The bull riders professional association,” Tech clarified.

“Since awards season started,” Free counted off on his fingers, “he’s gotten death threats, stalkers, his house was broken into, there’s a video of him being spit on, things thrown at him. And now that the movie’s sequel has been announced with a quadrupled budget, the harassment’s gone crazy.”

“This is fuckin’ ridiculous. We have to go all the way across the country and defend against gay bashing,” Ruxs grumbled. “We’re back in the damn 80s now.”

“The straw that broke the camel’s back,” Tech said, “was someone posing as a messenger to get past Studio 8’s security and ended up attacking Xander Vale’s stunt double, Devyn Frost, and his bodyguard. Both are still hospitalized.”

Free’s expression dimmed. “Xander Vale was pretty shaken up. His manager is demanding—more like threatening—the production company to keep her client safe or she’s pulling him.”

Green, who’d grown quieter the closer they got to TSA check, muttered, “Great. Y’all are dragging me onto an aluminum death trap to keep a producer from losing his superstar.”

Free scowled. “He’s actually a pretty nice guy. He’s known as a generous philanthropist, community advocate, and everyone says how humble and easy he is to work with. He’s not a diva or just a handsome face.”

Ruxs opened his mouth to say something, until the line moved a bit faster and they’d reached the front.

“Finally,” he barked. “I’ve had a birthday since I got in line.”

The TSA agent didn’t look amused. She stared at him with the dead eyes of a woman who probably felt underpaid, unappreciated, and had already heard too much bullshit complaining before eight a.m.

“ID and boarding pass.”

Ruxs handed it over with a muttered curse and moved through without issue.

His partner wasn’t so lucky.