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Something is about to go down. Tom doesn’t know what it is, but he can tell Gail is making moves again. Like so many before he can take a pretty good guess he won’t appreciate what they are or where they lead. The majority of his security team is here. They each have at least one gun strapped to them and ear pieces inserted. Dressler directs the rest of the crew. Remar and Evans unload some gas cans. Mitra, his one female guard, and Mikey escort Doone and Kevin to below deck. The two look equally as confused as Tom feels at their presence. Tom has no idea what the purpose of having them here could possibly be. He doesn’t need to be a genius to know it can’t be anything positive.
The guns are an obvious threat. The gas makes unease settle in his chest.
He needs information. He just needs to get one of the security team to talk. This is a risky move. He can’t know for sure if any of them know about the conditions of Tom’s compliance. It’s his best and potentially only move right now. If it fails it just leaves him exactly in the position he is now. It's better than doing nothing.
He’s Tom fucking Ryder. He needs to remind himself of that in this moment. Gail may actually be the mastermind here, but he’s the best actor to exist. That’s the energy he needs to bring here. He can and will get what he wants. He just needs to pick his mark. As the rest of the security crew prepare they leave Mikey on watch duty. He pulls Mikey to the side.
Mikey has always been one of the less intelligent on his team. Often incompetent. He will probably be an easy play. There's a reason he's the only one that gets called by his first name. Mikey doesn't garner much in the way of respect. He's just a warm body with a rough looking exterior. Scary, but often useless. Normally having that on his team would be a burden, but right now it might just be a blessing.
“Mikey, Gail hooked us up for a party tonight” Tom gestures loosely, before slinging an arm around Mikey's shoulders. He continues in a more hushed tone, like he's sharing a secret with a close friend, “Though the guest list seems a little over-populated don’t you think?”
He looks pointedly in the direction of Doone and Kevin.
“We’ll have three more incoming.” Mikey admits. Either Mikey’s reputation as an idiot is beyond accurate or he doesn’t know that Tom isn’t a trustworthy part of this plan. It matters little to Tom. The latter would be his preference.
Gail uses information or the withholding of it to manipulate situations. She’s a liar through and through. Leaving some of the security in the dark is an interesting choice. Tom is more than happy to take advantage of that choice.
“Who are we missing? I’d like to be prepared to give them a proper greeting,” Tom channels his old ways. He's self-aware enough to have noticed since being with Ryland his less than stellar attributes have softened. They hadn’t disappeared. Just been buried. It's all too easy to dig them back up. He lets the parts of himself that he has come to hate resurface. He has a part to play here. The cocky. uncaring, douchebag, movie star Tom Ryder.
Letting apathy take over makes it easy to be an arrogant asshole.
Mikey hesitates. Like he is conflicted about if he should tell Tom anything. Tom needs to find the right place to push.
“Come on now, Mikey,” Tom lets out an exasperated sigh and waves a hand. “I'm not going to have any fun if I don't know what the plan is.”
Acting like an inconsiderate party boy isn’t doing the job. This isn't getting Tom anywhere fast enough. Mikey is keeping his mouth shut. That's fine, he has dirt that he isn't ashamed to use. There's a couple bottles on the yacht. He grabs a couple glasses from a cabinet and pours two fingers of whiskey in each. He hands one off to Mikey. Tom holds his own off to the side casually.
“We’re friends, right? You don't even know how many times I have vouched for you to Dressler when you’ve failed to show up,” Tom knows that was Gail. He can be convincing though. Mikey has no reason to not believe him.
“Remind me, who got Gail to approve you for a pay bump so you could get your bitch of a baby mama off your back?” Tom had done that, but not for altruistic reasons. He just got annoyed hearing Mikey complain.
He gives Mikey an expectant look and holds out his glass. Mikey idles, stumbles over a couple words. Their glasses connecting is enough proof for Tom to show this is working. “Tell me what the plan is.”
That’s all it takes.
Doone and Kevin are loose ends that need to be eliminated.
Ryland, Colt and Dan are in the loft. They have his phone. Mikey hesitates to bring up Ryland. Dressler is going to lead the team in to subdue them, find the phone and dispose of them. Though apparently Dressler isn’t looking to do it quickly. He’s evidently feeling a bit of animosity toward Colt from a fight earlier in the day. Dressler has a sadistic streak. Tom’s already quite aware of it. If Dressler gets his hands on Ryland with instruction to end his life it won’t be a quick or painless ordeal if he has the choice.
Tom is filled with fear at that thought. He can’t let that happen.
Tom has gotten what he wanted. He sends Mikey above deck. He has work to do.
Tom needs to try to get them all out of here. Or at least stop Dressler’s team from having the element of surprise. Time is a precious commodity right now.
Tom knows he needs to play this smart. He can’t afford to be hasty if he doesn’t want Ryland to get caught in the cross-hairs. Potentially literally. He thinks he can kill two birds with one stone here and potentially even the numbers a bit for Colt, Dan and Ryland. Or at least Colt and Dan. Ryland isn’t a fighter. He might be able to scrape his way out if he can run though.
He picks his first move. It’s not the most reliable, but if they are in the loft and they’ve got his phone one of them might notice. He makes it over to a cabinet as if he's just returning his glass and shoots off a quick text. With security still about he doesn’t want to risk being overheard making a phone call. He’s relieved slightly when he sees the message show that it’s been read and returns it to his pocket.
He has evidently done this just at the right time.
He hears Dressler above deck berating Mikey for not watching them closely enough. Tom turns as Dressler calls his name. He holds out a hand and demands Tom’s burner phone. Tom clenches his jaw. He looks around. Although no one else has really noticed the interaction, if he tried something right now it would be five on one potentially. Not great odds. Kevin and Doone are more likely to run than to help. He hands it over.
Dressler leans forward. “No funny business, you know what will happen,” He threatens in a low voice. He takes the burner and two other phones, Doone’s and Kevin’s probably, and tosses them into the harbor. Well that answers one thing. Dressler knows that Gail has Tom locked down. That Tom is a threat to the plan. His choice to say it quietly and privately tells him that the rest of the security crew probably isn’t in on it.
Most of his security team leaves, getting the last of their gear together before they make their way to the loft. Mikey stays behind with them below deck to hold down the fort. That’s fine. Mikey is an unskilled loser. Tom can make use of that still. If he does this right he can get Doone and Kevin out of here and avoid suspicion.
He approaches Mikey in a friendly manner. Talking nonsense really. Once he’s right in front of him Tom throws a punch. Mikey’s nose cracks. As he goes to reach for his nose, Tom yanks his handgun from his hip holster.
There’s a beat, just one moment. He can hear the crew in the distance climbing up to the patio. The gun is in his hands. He shoots two rounds. One misses. The other hits Mikey in the leg. He wasn’t aiming to kill him, just incapacitate. Mikey stumbles and slumps to the floor, still conscious. Tom takes the extra precaution to use the weapon to knock him out.
Tom knows Dressler will be sending someone back down. He turns to Doone and Kevin. He needs to make this look convincing.
“You two need to get out of here, now,” Tom commands. Tom stops Doone before he can bolt. “I need you to punch me in the face and take this.”
Doone looks baffled. Tom doesn’t have time. He needs it to look like Doone and Kevin managed their own escape. Having some kind of injury will make it look like Tom was caught in the middle of it. For all that Tom thinks it won’t actually make a difference, he hopes It will stop Dressler from making good on his earlier threat.
“Don’t knock me out, just enough to leave a mah-” his words cut off as a fist connected with his face. He recovers quickly. Doone’s ring left a cut on his cheek. Good. He shoves the gun in Doone’s hand.
Doone runs.
There’s no reason to believe either will try to go to the police. They are both self-serving low lives in their own ways. Their involvement in Henry’s murder and Gail’s schemes will also make them think twice about doing it. At least he got two liabilities off the board. All he can do is hope that it was enough to give the three in his loft some kind of advantage.
Tom can hear the sound of a muffled battle in his loft. He can’t confidently know if Ryland is still there or not. There’s too many uncertainties. He considers going above to the deck. That consideration dies when he hears a single set of fast walking footsteps. He puts on an act holding his cheek and slumps against the wall. Mitra enters the lower deck of the yacht. She takes stock of the situation before reaching up to her ear piece mic and speaking in a low volume. Relaying it to Dressler probably.
Mitra is much more adept and quick-witted than Mikey. She is often serious and focused. He won’t be able to pull a fast one on her. He doesn’t plan to. He needs to see this through and try to make sure everyone gets out alive. Especially Ryland. His lack of knowledge is truly his biggest detriment here.
Minutes later the distant sounds stop. Tom wonders if that’s the end of it. The gunfire starts back up a minute later, erasing that thought. They are louder, closer. There’s a crash from above. Colt enters from the upper deck. The crack of Mitra’s gun on his face knocks him to the floor in a heap.
God-fucking-dammit.
Tom double checks. He’s ready to run if it comes down to it. He’s dressed for it. Boots double-knotted to avoid any mishaps. Tripping on a shoe lace would be humiliating at minimum. Deadly at maximum. He grabs his backpack and drops it nearby as he comes up to the dock. He doesn’t know if he’ll be able to snatch it back up if things get messy, but it's within an available distance. Then try to find Ryland and guarantee his safety. If he can remove that looming threat, he can do what he should've from the start and turn himself in. Tom would prefer if that doesn’t involve abandoning Colt, but there’s not a lot of variables within his control.
Tom finds a spot in the center as everyone moves around him. Dressler wastes little time restraining Colt with the help of Evans. Colt starts to come to during the movement. He grumbles a couple times at the rough handling. Tries to resist and squirm away. That earns Colt a punch in the side. Dressler pushes him down into a chair maybe 10 feet away, while Evans straps his hands together with a heavy duty zip tie. A second one is added to anchor Colt to the chair. No one checks Colt’s pockets. An oversight.
Once Colt is situated, the security guards station themselves. Evans next to a gas can to the right of Tom. Remar standing within arms distance of Colt. Mitra hangs back on the yacht. From the deck she has an excellent vantage point.
“Kietel is inbound,” Dressler announces with a chuckle. Tom doesn't want to know what could possibly be funny. He supposes he's going to find out shortly. Dressler strides over to him, phone in hand.
Gail is on speaker, “The phone hasn’t yet been located. Stay out of the way or play your part.”
Play his part.
What does that even mean?
This is a role he never wanted.
If Tom stays out of the way he loses any control over this. If they want him to play the villain, he'd rather it be with his own words. It's not like he could run. He's got four gun toting lackeys to contend with. He can put on a show. He can figure this out. Manipulate the story. He just needs to be careful that Dressler doesn’t catch on and take him out. Or worse, go after Ryland.
He walks up to Dressler, “If I'm going to play the unhinged bad guy, it should at least be convincing,” Tom pauses. “Give me a knife.”
Dressler looks around seemingly to take stock. He must deem Tom as a non-threat given the context. He opens a pocket on his vest and hands Tom a pocket knife.
Dressler closes the distance to Colt. A hard backhand has Colt tipping to the side and tumbling over. Unable to catch himself, he falls to the wooden surface of the dock hard. Colt lets out a groan that turns into a growl. Tom watches as Colt tries his best to gauge his situation. He doesn't have an effective field of vision.
Dressler and Remar set Colt back upright. Dressler gives a couple more hits. A punch to the face has Colt’s head whipping to the side and a hit to the stomach makes him hunch over. Tom takes a breath and saunters over. Colt spits blood at his feet before looking up at Tom defiantly.
“So we’re doing the torture scene now?” Colt asks. He’s trying to use humor as a shield. Deflect and get them off topic before they’ve even begun.
“Nah, Dressy just has a mean sadistic streak and a bone to pick,” Tom says casually. “Listen, I don’t want to do this anymore than the next guy. Just tell us where the phone is, Colt.”
Colt tries to roll his shoulders as he refuses, “You mean the phone that proves you killed Henry and would clear my name? I think I’ll be keeping that for now. I’m guessing it's the only thing keeping me alive.”
“Yes that phone,” Tom confirms. He lets his tone do the work for the villain persona. Bored, apathetic with a little bit of frustration sprinkled in. He drags over the largest gas can and takes a seat in front of Colt. He needs an opening here. Dressler and Remar are too close for him to make any moves. Tom can monologue with the best of them. Especially if it’s mostly the truth. Way easier than making it all up.
He plays with the knife in his hand. Flipping it open and shut. Colt’s eyes track it for a second as Tom starts a tangent. Colt throws small interruptions throughout, but Tom plows through. He talks about brotherhood and contracts ("Uh huh, thanks"). He gets up, walks around, using the space. Talks about himself, how his brand is so huge and important ("Oh, god"). Throws an uncaring wave of his hand, raises a condescending brow, levels Colt with a sneer. He keeps his tone cavalier and disinterested. Colt scoffs, shakes his head and rolls his eyes. Tom needs this act to be compelling. Enough that Dressler thinks he is playing along. He also needs to keep depositing pieces for Colt to collect. Tom knows that Colt isn't a dumbass. Not as smart as Ryland, but he has common sense. Tom just has to use the right phrases and words and maybe Colt will understand.
“And then you know, there's Ryland.” He starts.
“Don't talk about him, you piece of shit,” it's the loudest protest Colt has said so far. He leans as far forward as he possibly can without tipping. Like he would've lunged if he wasn't physically tied down. “He never should've gotten involved with your conniving ass.”
“I didn't want him involved. I hoped he'd be safe in all this. But that's not what happened. Really got my hands tied with that one.” He gestures with both hands to the side and shrugs. Tom feels sick talking about Ryland is such a callous way. Like Ryland is an inconvenience. Ryland could never be an inconvenience. If it's either of them that is an issue, it's Tom. This is all his own fault. He meets Colt's eyes. “It's too bad. We had a good thing going, before it all got fucked up. I really do love him.”
Colt's glare turns perplexed with a furrow of his brow. Tom begs silently for Colt to read between the lines.
“If you want to describe anyone as “conniving” we really should talk about Gail,” the sound of a vehicle pulling up on the pavement above disrupts him.
It's a black SUV. He motions for Dressler and Remar to head up. It's worth a shot. If they want to help him keep up this act, they’ll probably listen. Tom’s luck pays off.
“You remember Gail,” Tom gives Colt a pointed look.
“I introduced you to her, idiot,” Colt says dryly.
“This whole thing was Gail’s idea. Dragged you out of that hole you fell into 18 months ago. ("You mean my life?") Pretty sure it's not the first time she's tried something like this. Can't be certain, but she's always been pretty cutthroat. It's nothing personal, right?" ("I'm taking it personally") Tom rounds to the back of Colt. He can hear chatter from the direction of the SUV. “Called her after that mess with Henry. She starts going on and on about how it's bad for marketing and could destroy Metalstorm. Whatever.” He leans down. He’s got one chance at this. He continues talking about Gail’s plan. The murder suicide plot that Colt messed up. He slots the tip of the blade into the zip tie attaching Colt to the chair. It takes some effort, the sounds of a struggle from above cover the snap as the tie breaks.
Tom walks back to the front. Colt is looking at him with confusion. He looks ready to bolt but Tom holds up one finger. Wait. The SUV pulls away.
Tom keeps a tangent going. Talking about Metalstorm. How cool its going to be. How Jody is going to make an awesome film. Keeping the dialogue going to not draw attention with silence. Colts brows knit together, puzzled. Like he thinks Tom is playing a game with him.
Dressler and Remar return but not alone. Draped over Remar's shoulder is Ryland. Tom goes speechless. Ryland appears to be struggling but the carry must make it difficult for him to have much leverage. He’s trying to kick his feet, but he can’t seem to get much force behind it. His hands are useless, strapped behind his back. They stop a few feet to the left where Remar drops Ryland. Not at all gently. He groans and curls up a bit on his side. Before Remar reaches down and hoists Ryland to his knees. A hand tangles and pulls his hair. Ryland lets out a pained hiss. Remar has his handgun held to the side, not yet pointed at Ryland but threateningly present.
A look of betrayal crosses Ryland's features when he notices Tom and Colt. Tom knows what this looks like. Tom would feel shame or guilt, but it's overshadowed by rage. There is blood on Ryland’s face from a wound near his temple. His breathing appears labored. Tom is livid. He hadn't planned on it, was doing everything to actively avoid it really, but he might actually fucking kill a man tonight. Potentially a couple. On purpose. Maybe start by breaking those goddamned fingers yanking at Ryland's hair.
He turns to look at Colt. Colt looks pissed. His teeth are bared in a snarl. They make eye contact. Tom hopes Colt has put the parts together. Picked up on the hints he’s been dropping. If he hasn’t that’s fine. They can call a truce. They have a shared goal now.