Phoenix Falling by Mary Jo Putney Page A

take.
    Lithe and cruel as a panther, Sharif knocked aside the spear one of his men was about to drive through Randall's chest. "Don't! This one is an officer." He kicked Kenzie's carefully padded ribs. So far, so good. "I shall find a use for him."
    "You might as well kill me now, because I'll do nothing that might help you," Kenzie spat out. Randall was fiercely defiant at this point, sure he could face death with courage, not knowing that dying would be simple compared to what lay ahead. "Or if you're the warrior you claim to be, cut me loose so we can fight like men!"
    Sharif smiled with vicious anticipation. "There's m-m-m-more..." His words trailed off in a stutter.
    "Cut!"
    The youthful cable puller gave an audible groan. Sharif flushed violently. Rainey took one look at his face, then whirled and stormed over to the culprit. "You're off the movie. Now!"
    He gasped. "But... but..."
    "It's not your job to judge performances," she snapped. "If you want to continue working in this business, remember that in the future. Now go!"
    The boy left in the midst of paralyzed silence. Even his boss, the head of the sound crew, didn't protest. Rainey was well within her rights to fire the idiot, and she'd proved to the crew she was tough enough to be the boss. But something had to be done to get production back on course.
    Kenzie scrambled to his feet. "Someone take these damned ropes off me. We all need a break."
    Seeing his expression, Rainey said, "Kenzie's right. Take ten."
    As the first assistant director, Bill Meriwether, called the break to the crew, Kenzie said to Sharif, "Let's take a walk. Stretch a few of the knots out of our legs."
    Looking like a lamb on the verge of being sacrificed, Sharif nodded. Kenzie fell into step beside him and headed away from the trucks and cameras. In the desolate canyon, it took only a dozen paces to start feeling alone in the wilderness.
    Sharif had his head down as if he was walking through a minefield. Despite his height and a splendid beard that made him photograph older, Sharif was quite young, Kenzie realized. Early to mid-twenties, which explained a great deal. "Is this your first movie role?" he asked conversationally.
    "Yes, sir. I graduated from the Central School of Speech and Drama last spring. I've done several small television and stage parts, but nothing like this." Though he used an accent for Mustafa, his natural speech was as crisply British as Kenzie's.
    Central was one of London's top drama schools, so Sharif obviously had ability and good training. While Kenzie was wondering what might get him to relax, Sharif blurted out, "I'm so sorry, Mr. Scott. I thought I had my lines down perfectly, but..." He made a helpless gesture with his hands.
    "Being in a Hollywood movie terrifies you."
    "That's part of it." Sharif swallowed. "And... and it's also you, sir. I saw you play Romeo at Stratford. The way you made him come alive... You lit up the whole stage. That's when I knew I had to become an actor."
    Ah. As a RADA student, Kenzie had once shared a stage, in a very minor role, with one of the great men of the British theater and he'd almost expired from awe. Though he was only a dozen or so years older than Sharif, an idol was an idol. "So I'm your hero?"
    "Yes, sir."
    Kenzie swung around and faced the younger man. "I'm not your hero," he snarled. "I'm a son-of-a-bitch Englishman who knows I'm superior to you and your whole filthy country."
    Sharif stared at him, shocked. "What... why are you saying that? I was born in Birmingham and I'm as English as you are."
    Kenzie pushed harder. "My people have better guns and a better God, so that makes us a better race. You miserable heathen savages should be grateful that a Christian nation even bothers with you."
    "You arrogant Pommy bastard ." Sharif's British civility vanished in a surge of fury.
    As the younger man's fists clenched, Kenzie balanced on the balls of his feet so he could dodge if necessary. Then Sharif caught his