Free Final Cut by Franklin W. Dixon

admiring fans."
    "My fans, huh?" Addison grinned. "Not very likely. But I'll bet you that there's a whole regiment of Preston Lawrence fans there. That's what you get when you play he-men and heroes."
    On location Ivan Kandinsky gave his star last-minute instructions. Lawrence listened intently, nodding every few seconds. Then he got into a car and drove off out of camera range.
    Kandinsky gave the thumbs-up signal to Hector Ellerby, who had picked up a bullhorn.
    "Can I have your attention, everyone? We're about to shoot a very tricky scene, so I want you all to be alert. You people watching over there, please help us out. We're happy to let you watch, but you have to keep absolutely silent while we're doing this and stay where you are. If we have to retake this master shot, it'll be hours before we can get it all ready to go again. Thank you for your cooperation." He put down the bullhorn and picked up his walkie-talkie.
    "Cameras ready? Sound? Special effects?" One by one, he checked in with each department and got an okay. Then he picked up the bullhorn.
    "Drivers, start the cars! Wait for my signal to move! Lights!"
    A battery of floodlights turned what was a bright day even brighter.
    "Camera!"
    Three cameras began to roll.
    "Slate the scene!"
    Three assistant camera people ran in front of their cameras carrying slates with the scene number chalked on them and hinged sticks, called clappers, on top. Each assistant held his slate in front of the lens, read off the scene number, clapped the clappers, then ran out of camera range.
    "And - action! Go ahead, drivers!" yelled Ellerby.
    Half a dozen squad cars came screaming around the corner into the shot, sirens wailing and red lights flashing, and squealed to a stop. Twenty-five actors and extras in police uniforms piled out of the cars and spread out behind them. A window in the building they were facing was shattered, and a gunshot was fired from inside. Then a burst of gunfire crackled as the "cops" and the actors playing the gang, holed up in a building nearby, blazed away at one another with blanks. One bad guy yelped, clutched his chest, and fell halfway out of a window.
    Preston Lawrence gave orders and gestured with his hands. Some of the actor/police started charging the building. There was a louder burst of gunfire. Another villain was hit, screamed, and fell all the way out of a window, landing on a thin pad below that was carefully placed just out of camera range. One of the policemen grabbed his shoulder, and fake blood dripped from between his fingers.
    Frank and Joe watched the crowd from their stations with one eye but followed the scene with fascination. Joe thought that it went like some kind of super-complex football play, brilliantly run. Frank thought of a really involved chess game.
    Since it was obvious that the spectators weren't trying to get too close to the action, the brothers gave more and more of their attention to the action before the cameras.
    Joe was so caught up in what he was seeing, he hardly noticed when one shot sounded different from the others. It was sharper, a little louder. Then a chip of the stone from a wall near his head flew off with a whining noise.
    Joe looked around but saw nothing unusual. He picked up his walkie-talkie and whispered into it, "Frank. Frank. Do you read me?"
    Frank was a few yards away, and whispered into his own transmitter, "I read you, Joe, what's - "
    Suddenly another loud shot hit home above his head. Before he could duck, a bit of stonework flew, scratching Frank's cheek. He put a hand to his face, and it came away with a smear of blood on it.
    He said urgently to his brother, "Joe, take cover right now. Someone's using the noise of the fake gunfire to snipe at us, and he isn't using blanks!"

Chapter 12
    While hundreds of onlookers gasped at the fake gunfire and staged fighting, Frank and Joe were caught up in a real fight for their lives.
    Joe dove for cover behind a parked car as a bullet smashed