Simon nodded, a serious look in his eyes. “I understand.”

“This is one of two stupid things that have blown our cover in the past. One guy couldn’t keep a secret and told his girlfriend what he was doing. It leaked and ruined the surprise. I was nice and let him keep the first third of the payment even though he’d signed a contract to agree to pay it back if he talked, but he lost out on the big payoff.” Travis lowered his chin and looked hard at Simon. “I know it’s hard, but our success is based on surprise. Any leaks ruin it. Not to mention I’m out the cost of setting everything up.” He paused. “Did you tell anyone you were meeting me today?”

“Hell no. You made the silence thing clear on the phone. I like your quality of work, and I want to be a part of it. I’m not going to screw that up.”

“Fantastic. A lot of blind trust goes into these things. Guys like you make it work.”

Simon beamed.

“I have a meeting later today with the client who hired us to create and film this one,” Travis lied. “I’m glad I can tell him I found the perfect actor for the part.”

“I’m thankful I saw the ad you put on the theater bulletin board at the school. I’m always checking it for extra work.”

“Yes, I find most of our actors through postings on online acting forums or an old-fashioned bulletin board. It seems all you guys are constantly looking for work.”

“Gotta eat.”

“The only other stipulation is your availability. This gig will happen in the next few days. Your schedule is clear, right?”

“Yes, it is. Summer session is over, and I haven’t lined up a job yet. Except for this one,” he joked. He signed his name to the agreement.

“Maybe we can use you for some other gigs if this one goes well.”

The young man’s eyes lit up. “That’d be so cool. I’ve spent hours watching your work. You said a network was interested?”

“I’ve been contacted by a producer who’s made some shows for Spike,” he lied, shrugging. “There’s always someone showing interest, but no one’s made an offer yet. That’s okay. We’ve got people buying ad space, which is how we make our money. I’ve talked to a few foreign producers, too. We’re huge in Germany.”

Simon looked ready to kiss his feet.

“Here’s one-third of the pay we talked about.” He handed Simon an envelope. “The rest on the day of the shooting, okay?”

“Absolutely. Can’t wait.”

“Let’s walk the scene, okay?” He stood and Simon nearly jumped out of his chair to join him.

Perfect. He’ll do whatever I ask that day.

They walked around the outside of the building. “The second time we had a production fail, the actor didn’t follow instructions and moved too soon. The scene got noisy and he came out of his hiding spot.”

“Oh, shit. Did that ruin the surprise?”

“Damn right. All that time and planning flushed down the sewer. The client was pissed and didn’t want to try it again on a different day. I didn’t blame him. When you’re attempting to stage an elaborate practical joke, timing is everything and you’ll never catch the subject off guard again. You get one chance. That’s it.”

“Will I have to improvise anything?”

“Probably not. We’ll run over all the possibilities so you’re comfortable. But the most important thing is for you not to get surprised and keep your cool. Did you watch the video with the fireworks?”

“Yeah, the one where the guy freaked out because someone was in the backseat of his car?”

“That’s the one. We always have fireworks handy in case we need to distract the subject. The target was about to spot the actor before it was time; the fireworks made him look the other way.”

“Genius.”

“Crap happens sometimes. The worst is when we set everything up, and the target doesn’t show. Most people are pretty predictable. They have a routine they like to follow and they stick to it. We do all the research we can so we know their typical movements, but there’s been a few times when we’ve been left hanging.”

“You follow them?” Simon asked, wrinkling up his brow.

“A little bit. I like to see how they move and what their habits are, but most of the information comes from the person who hires us to perform the gag,” Travis lied smoothly. “They know the target best and give us the background we need.”

He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and offered one to Simon, who declined. He lit up and relaxed as the nicotine hit his lungs. He was nearly confident that Simon would work perfectly for his next staging, but he still had some questions. He had to be certain he could trust the guy to keep his head down until the right moment. The videos on YouTube were pranks he’d staged with friends during college when they thought they were kings with their cameras and clever ideas. The videos were old, but people still watched them and, according to the comments on the videos, thought they were better than the prank shows on TV. Occasionally he thought about getting the group together and creating more, but right now this was much more satisfying.

“I’ve got some black athletic gear in my vehicle for you to wear. We’ll need you to be as inconspicuous as possible.”

“Of course,” agreed Simon.

He smiled. The black Nike gear was the uniform he’d chosen for all his soldiers. To him it was anonymous and powerful, and represented stealth.