Free The Miranda Contract by Ben Langdon

now.”
    “We all react to these things differently,” Sully said.
    “No kidding. I’m saying, and I’m saying it very clearly to you, right now Sully. If she doesn’t react, and react in the way we need her to, then I’m cutting her off. She can go and sing country and western for all I care. We need razzle, here. We need drama, movement, insanity if we can muster it.”
    Curtis moved to stand a little to Sully’s side. In his hand was a briefcase, silver and sleek. Sully hadn’t seen it before.
    “Perhaps we should give her more time,” Sully suggested. “The rest of the tour has been quite successful.”
    “Successful?” Klein shouted, his face turning a little red despite being plastered across the hotel wall. “You aren’t here, Suleyman. Here, in the heart of things, she is a complete disaster. A complete farce, from Seattle to bloody Indonesia. Her girl-next-door game doesn’t wash with the fans anymore. They want extreme.”
    Klein wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he realized he was losing his composure.
    “Perhaps I should continue?” asked Curtis. His clipped voice was in stark contrast to Klein’s rant. The manager nodded his head and reached for a glass of water, off-screen. “We have a solution,” Curtis continued. “It will require a little game of cat-and-mouse, but ultimately harmless to all concerned.”
    Sully wondered what kind of cat-and-mouse game was ever harmless. He had known a number of mice in his time and none of them had ever reminisced happily about being the subject of a game.
    Curtis handed him the suitcase. It was lightweight, with a chain and cuff dangling from the handle.
    “Inside this briefcase is our young lady’s salvation.”
    “Possible,” Klein added, leaning forward on the screen, his face filling the wall again. “Possible salvation. I’m not even one hundred per cent certain she has a chance anymore.”
    “Go on, Mister Curtis,” Sully said, testing the strength of the chain and its overall design.
    “The financial people want publicity, which translates into sales and profits, of course. The Human Tour has been somewhat lackluster in that department up until now. There was hope that with the buzz surrounding that poor boy’s death on stage, but… well, things didn’t turn out as planned.”
    Sully’s eyes narrowed, but Curtis was unimpressed.
    “Our people in Los Angeles and London have begun work on a new angle for our dear Miranda, but it requires a little prop at this end of the operation.”
    Curtis smiled and moved his hand to caress the air above the briefcase.
    “What’s inside?” Sully asked.
    “Air and magic,” Curtis said. “The magic of innuendo, the sorcery of scandal. Our people will generate a story and you will simply be required to carry this briefcase in your entourage.”
    “You don’t need to know anything more about it,” Klein said.
    “There is one other thing,” Curtis said.
    “There always is,” Sully said.
    “Quite. There is a boy, an Australian boy; and our people require that he be a part of this attempt at salvation. Kind of a balance, perhaps, bringing in this new, living boy to replace the burnt-out one from the last concert.”
    Sully ignored the crass comments and turned to Klein.
    “What boy?”
    “All in good time,” Curtis continued. “It’s all set up, Mister Sully. You just need to do your job and we shall do ours.”
    “And if you don’t do it, Suleyman,” Klein said. “We’ve always understood each other. If you don’t do this, then we part company.”
    “Of course,” Sully said, and bowed slightly to the screen. “There is always, in your line of business, Mister Klein, a point when the snake can no longer take the risk of basking in the glory and profit of a fading sun.”
    Klein sat back, his lips turning into a smile as he shook his head.
    “It has been a pleasure, Suleyman. A real pleasure.”
    And then the connection was cut and Sully found himself alone with the