Disclaimer: FX: The Series does not belong to me, and I'm in no way profiting financially from this story. The screenplay for Red Storm was written by Mary Crawford and Alan Templeton, and the episode was directed by J. Miles Dale. I have adapted the story to written form hopefully remaining true to both the writer and director’s original creative intentions. It is written purely for my own entertainment and for the entertainment of others. FX is a Fireworks Entertainment Inc. and Winterset Productions Inc. production also produced in association with Rysher Entertainment and Hallmark Entertainment. The show is also based on the movie FX, an Orion Picture Corporation movie.

CHAPTER 6

The conference room was now filled with people, sitting on rows and rows of chairs. At the front right hand side of the room was the Chinese Trade Minister and his entourage, the organisers and press taking photos. Captain van Duran of the NYPD was up in the left front corner by the entrance, he kept an eye out on the proceedings with the help of his security contingent.

Detective Mira Sanchez came in, walking straight to her boss’ side “...thought you were getting the Minister outa here?” she asked.

Van Duran clenched his jaw; frustrated, “He wouldn’t go.”

“Great” muttered the detective as she pulled the Tyler FX PDA from her pocket and began scanning the room.

“They’ve already swept the room Sanchez,” commented van Duran.

Mira muttered back, “They might have missed something.”

Loubar was still disguised as Rollie as he performed the last couple of checks and released the safety on the Barclay 62-A1. He then went to the window and looked out across the city, lit up like a Christmas tree by the evening lights.

The Tyler FX van worked its way through New York traffic, heading in the general direction of the Galen Conference Centre. Rollie was driving and Angie was in her usual spot in front of the computer. She had her earpiece in and was phoning the 4 hotels on their list. “Do you have a Rick Blaine registered?” She waited as the receptionist checked, “You do? Okay, thank you.” The young woman disconnected the call and looked up to Rollie, “East side Sheraton on 53rd.

Rollie looked back at Angie via the rear-view mirror, “Better call Mira, get us some back up,” he instructed, returning his attention to the road.

Mira was still scanning the conference room with the PDA when her cell phone rang; she answered it, “Sanchez.”

It was Angie, who replied, “Mira, we found Loubar” with grim satisfaction, but at the same time worried.

Loubar activated the smart cradle hooked up to the frequency scanner on his computer and watched in satisfaction as the 50 calibre gun adjusted its aim based on input from the computer as the scanner searched for the target frequency.

At the conference centre the Trade Minister and delegates began taking their seats. Mira anxiously watch the PDA screen knowing that if the hit was going to happen it would be sooner rather than later.

On the other side of the room Hong Lee looked at Minister Sheu distastefully and carefully reached into his pocked activating a small remote.

Loubar’s frequency tracker beeped and he turned to watch as it the gun’s aim trajectory was adjusted. The message on the computer screen changed to ‘Target Acquired’.

Mira’s PDA signal changed, showing a blip on the scope. Something close by was emitting a signal at a frequency of 5.32MHz. She looked up, noting that it was in the proximity of the trade minister. She also noticed the scowl Hong Lee was giving the trade minister and became suspicious.

Loubar pulled on a black leather jacket, rendering him identical to Rollie Tyler, right down to the shoes and socks he was wearing. He picked up his briefcase and left his hotel room, closing the door behind him on the active equipment.

The computer screen message flashed to red and changed to ‘Target Locked’.

Mira realised that with the signal now active, the hit contract was now active. She ran towards the head table, yelling “Down!” Officials and delegates began scattering seeing the Latino cop as the threat. She ran straight for the trade minister and launched herself at him, knocking him to the floor.

In the hotel room close by the 50-calibre gun began firing, the bullets blew straight through the hotel room window and the concrete wall behind the conference room head table. They splintered the back of the trade minister’s now empty chair into toothpick sized fragments.

People began screaming and running. An official yelled out “Get the Minister out of here! Come on, move it!!” Mira escorted the minister to the side of the room where the security team took over scurrying him away.

Hong Lee looked up disappointment etched his features as he saw Minister Sheu escorted away. Mira grabbed him in an arm lock, arresting him on the spot “Where do you think you’re going? Huh!?”

The large black FX van pulled up outside the Sheraton Hotel on East 53rd Street. Rollie jumped out the front door, passing a comment back to his assistant, “Stay wired Ange”. He ran across the red carpet, and pushed his way through the revolving doors. As he did he glanced at a man exiting through the same door and was startled to recognise his own face.

Loubar recognised Rollie with a shock and as he exited the revolving door he slammed it back, trapping Rollie, before running for it. A third man fell in the revolving door, and Rollie was forced to push it back so he exited into the lobby. He ran for the second revolving door, flew through it and took off after Loubar, swearing at the several second disadvantage he now had. He yelled out to Angie as he ran past the van, “Angie, it’s Loubar!”

Angie popped her head out of the front of the van, to see Rollie running off. She had Mira on the phone, and took off after Rollie. “Mira, Loubar’s left the hotel. They’re heading west on foot.”

Rollie caught up to Loubar as they entered Central Park. Loubar turned to fight as Rollie ploughed into him. Both men fell over a trashcan to the ground, wrestling. Loubar’s briefcase and gun went flying. Rollie grabbed the upper hand, pinning Loubar to the ground, but the assassin managed to get his hands on a glass bottle and smashed it against Rollie’s head. The FX man saw stars and fell. Loubar pushed him away, scrambled to his feet and after grabbing his briefcase ran off. Rollie cursed again, leapt to his feet and took off after him.

Angie wasn’t far behind, almost catching Rollie as he took off after Loubar again. She still had the cop on the line, and reported back “Mira, they’re heading into the park at West 59th.”

Loubar reached a lake in the park, still running with Rollie close on his heels. Angie spotted Loubar’s gun, picked it up and took off after them again.

Rollie caught Loubar again further along the lakeshore. He rammed into him and both men rolled down a low bank. Loubar dropped the case.

The two men were now indistinguishable and began fighting; one threw a punch and then the other. They wrestled, stumbling into the shallows of the lake. Angie reached the top of the bank, and yelled out, “Rollie!” She aimed the gun but was unable to tell who was Rollie and who was Loubar. She stood there helpless vainly attempting to find some separating and identifying feature.

One of the Rollies began getting the upper hand. He fired off a couple of punches and then pushed his companion’s head under the water trying to drown him. Angie fired a shot in the air, distracting him enough for the drowning Rollie to push away, take a breath and fire back a punch of his own. After exchanging several more punches Rollie remembered the knife he pocketed from the gun dealer earlier that day, he pulled it out, wielding it at Loubar.

Angie spotted one of the Rollies pull the knife. That was all the separation she needed, she knew that Rollie didn’t carry one. She turned to that Rollie and believing him to be Loubar, shot him. She hit him in the arm and the blast knocked him backwards, he dropped the knife, and yelled in pain. He turned back to her, scrambling to his feet, “Angie, it’s me!!” he yelled grabbing the injured arm with his other hand.

The other Rollie got her attention, “He’s lying Ange. It’s Loubar,” she turned to look at him, getting hysterical and swinging the gun to whichever Rollie spoke.

“No!” screamed the injured man.

“You don’t carry a knife!!” Angie screamed back at him, all her hatred, anger and fear bubbling to the surface.

Loubar tried taking advantage of the moment. “You know it’s him Ange!” encouraging her to shoot.

Rollie stole a glance at Loubar, he thought fast about what he could possibly know that Loubar didn’t in order to prove his identity. He turned back to his friend, “Angie...” he puffed, “you know what people do for love!”

Angie paused, his words ricocheted inside her, resonating and she realised she told Rollie that, that very day. Her expression shattered, her eyes and mouth widening in horror, having shot him and then she turned, refocusing her hatred on the man she now knew to be Victor Loubar.

Loubar knew his number was up and he turned with a grunt, diving under the surface of the water as Angie opened fire. She scrambled down the bank letting loose round after round into the water where he disappeared. “No!! NO!!” she screamed as she kept firing several times after running out of ammunition. She paused looking at the still water, looking for any sign of him. The she refocused on the gun in her hands, and realised what she’d just done let it drop from her outstretched hands in horror.

Rollie had stumbled to the water’s edge, and Angie fell to his side, sobbing. She wrapped her arms around him, “Oh god, I’m sorry,” she sobbed, “I’m so sorry!”

The Aussie grunted in pain, puffing, “Tell me you got him,” he begged.

But Angie couldn’t give him the answer he wanted, “I don’t know. God Rollie, I’m so sorry,” she sobbed grieving and guilt stricken that she’d shot him.

“You got him,” Rollie answered, trying to convince them both. He gasped in pain, and the two friends clung to each other at the water’s edge as multiple police cars rolled up, sirens blaring.

A short time later the police had the lake cordoned off. Teams searched the shoreline and the surface of the water, trying to find any sign of Loubar, either alive or dead.

An ambulance sat on the edge of the water; both Rollie and Angie sat in the back of it. Rollie had lost his sweater and jacket but was wrapped in foil and a blanket as a medic finished bandaging his arm. “You’re a lucky fella. Clean, in and out.”

Rollie looked up into the man’s face, “Thanks a lot Bob.”

“Good luck,” replied Bob, the medic and he headed back around to the front of his ambulance to write up his logbook.

Rollie muttered another “Thanks” as he pulled the blanket up. Angie watched him, concerned, guilt still filled her and she knew there was so much that needed to be said between them. She fidgeted, uncomfortable, waiting for Rollie to say something. He stole a glance at her, and chewed the side of his lip, unsure where to start or what to say, “Listen Angie... umm...”

“Rollie,” Angie shook her head and stopped him, she knew they both needed time to think about what had happened. She looked him in the eye, sad and lost, “Nothing has changed... Nothing.” Rollie looked incredulously at her for a moment, and then he realised that this was the way she wanted it. It was Angie’s way to deal with it all right now. She saw him understand, and leaned in, giving him a gentle kiss on the corner of his mouth. He responded to it tentatively, not sure how to handle it. She continued as she leaned back again, “As far as I’m concerned...”

Angie turned from Rollie, got up and walked back up the path towards the street without uttering another word, and without giving him the chance to respond. So much had happened, and he didn’t know where to start to process it, above all he felt sad that Angie had been hurt but he was also apprehensive, not knowing what to think, or how he should behave around her anymore. Mira came up on his other side and gave him a situation update, “No sign of Loubar. We’re gonna drag the lake.”

Rollie looked back at the lake, and then glanced at Mira, before he turned his attention back to Angie’s departing form. Mira followed his gaze. He commented, frustrated with his own uncertainty and failings, “She’s sure not Manny’s little girl anymore.”

Mira shook her head and replied, “No, she’s not.”

Rollie agreed, “Yeah” and turned his attention back towards Mira.

“What now?” asked the cop, she looked him in the eye and he knew what she was referring to.

Rollie stared at the ground, thinking. Mira got up and left him to it, she didn’t need to know the answer, just that he was in fact thinking about it. He turned back to see Angie disappear around the corner up the road, “Yeah” he commented to her distantly, “what now...”

Memories and thoughts flooded Rollie Tyler’s mind; he had trouble thinking as waves of physical and mental exhaustion rolled over him. His arm throbbed, his eyes felt scratchy, and his whole body ached, but the worst feeling was the deep ache in his heart for his failure to protect his closest friend. The longest, worst, most difficult draining day of his life was finally coming to a close. He had no doubt that tomorrow would be a difficult day too, but tomorrow could wait for tomorrow.