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    The Baker Tapes - Rated R - U/D 9 March

    the mice endure
    the mice endure


    Age : 38
    Location : Perth, Australia
    Posts : 274
    Join date : 2011-01-10

    The Baker Tapes - Rated R - U/D 9 March Empty The Baker Tapes - Rated R - U/D 9 March

    Post  the mice endure 1/5/2014, 10:21 am

    Title: The Baker Tapes
    Story Type: Fan Fiction [Bandom]
    Author: The Pies Endure [Me]
    Genre: Action,  Drama
    Rating: R
    Characters: A7X
    Status: Chaptered/Incomplete/
    Summary:  Being on the run is a scary thing. I wouldn't recommend it but, I guess if you have to, try and do it with a crew you trust. I've got that in spades.

    There's Syn, always with his poetry and argumentative bent. Then there's Christ. Hard nut alcoholic yet loyal to a tee. And then, there's Shads. M Shadows our fearless fucking leader.

    Yep that's my crew.

    Oh, then there's me, Zacky Vengeance.



    Setting: New Huntington/Long Beach, 2013
    Warning:  For mature content, language, may be sex and violence later on.
    Author's notes:  

    The Baker Tapes - Rated R - U/D 9 March TBT_titlebanner_zps6ab9e1f0


    Last edited by the mice endure on 3/9/2014, 5:18 pm; edited 2 times in total
    the mice endure
    the mice endure


    Age : 38
    Location : Perth, Australia
    Posts : 274
    Join date : 2011-01-10

    The Baker Tapes - Rated R - U/D 9 March Empty Re: The Baker Tapes - Rated R - U/D 9 March

    Post  the mice endure 1/5/2014, 10:22 am

    Here it is, finally. After all the waiting. The sequel to the craziness that was Shadows' tale. No sign of our boys yet, but this is a prologue of sorts. Enjoy.

    Oh, and Happy New Year Very Happy.



    Everything has a beginning

    New Huntington, CA
    1965


    “What the Hell are those lights?”

    As he was jamming a pair of drumsticks into his bag Matthew Pasan’s gaze slewed sideways at his best friend. Elijah Masters was peeking out the van window a frown marring his features, his fingers were absently fiddling with his bandana. Flashing lights passed them at a rapid speed, heading down Main Street.

    “Could be anything…”

    “Could be trouble,” Jake’s raspy smoker’s voice filtered from the front driver’s seat.

    Matthew snorted, rolling his eyes as he lit a cigarette and let the smoke curl up in front of his face. “You’re the trouble magnet.”

    “Me?” Jake was indignant. “You’re the one who gave that senator a heart attack.”

    The drummer growled, “I did nothing of the sort…” He stubbed out the smoke before he had really even started it, grinding the end into the side of his friend’s bass case.

    “Oh, and I suppose you’d blame Eli’s brother instead?” Jake scoffed, pretending to ignore what his friend just did.

    Matthew grunting, sat his ass down on the edge of one of the amps. Eli turned from the window, shuffling across to join him.

    “Pete’s alright…he’s just driven.” Eli’s brow furrowed. “And he’s loyal to a tee…”

    Matthew allowed a grim smile to pass his lips. “Can’t fault him for that.”

    “No, but he’s such a strait lace,” the singer murmured.

    “Oh, come on, you don’t give him enough credit. He was passionate about the band.”

    “Yeah, but more passionate about serving his country,” the bitterness in Eli’s tone was obvious. His bandmates cast long looks at each other. They were all well aware of the fights that Peter’s decision had caused between them. The founding drummer of Rebel Assassin had made the choice to join the army because he believed it was a more serious and appropriate career path to follow.

    “Well, couldn’t think of anyone better to serve…” Matthew muttered as he lit up another smoke. Eli cast a sour look at him then flopped back over the amp.

    “How long til the show?”

    “An hour, don’t worry, we’ll get there in time,” Jake said, smirking as he turned his eyes back to the road. His friends’ scoffed at him.

    “You said that last time and we were two hours late!” The affection in Matthew’s voice was unmistakable. The young men were forever teasing each other and making fun; there was no maliciousness there. Though they had made a reputation for themselves as the biggest, meanest bastards this side of the Huntington River. And not because of their band, which was still small potatoes…

    Jake chuckled.

    “Wasn’t my fault. We broke down, remember?”

    Matthew sucked hard on his smoke causing a cough to catch in his throat. “If I remember correctly that was your fault. You hadn’t had the truck checked before we left.”

    Jake flipped him the bird as he peered through the windscreen, frowning. The lights were bright up ahead.

    “Uh…guys…looks like we gotta problem…”

    Matthew moved to join him up the front, squinting into the brightness. “Looks like a roadblock, what do you think it’s for?”

    Jake shook his head as he had to slow to a stop. There was a rap on the window which he rolled down to reveal an officer with a flashlight, peering curiously into their van.

    “Evening, officer? Can you tell us what’s going on?”

    The officer smiled apologetically. “There’s a gig up the road, just making sure nothing illegal’s going on.”

    Jake lifted an eyebrow. “You mean up at the Paradise Theatre?” He leaned an elbow casually on the edge of his door. The officer nodded.

    “Yeah, up there. You headed that way?”

    Matthew leaned over, flashing a smile at the officer. “We’re the band.”

    The officer’s eyes narrowed considerably. “You guys are Rebel Assassin?”

    Jake started to nod, but Matthew elbowed him, noticing the tension in the officer’s voice. “Nah, we’re the support act.”

    His friend blinked, but held back from saying anything more as Matthew grinned at the officer. The officer didn’t look convinced but waved them through. When they were passed the road block Jake turned on his friend.

    “What the Hell was that about?”

    Matthew shook his head as Eli and Tyler, the latter having been half asleep up until that point, turned their attention to the two up front.

    “Something was off. I didn’t trust that officer.”

    Jake grumbled, “Why the Hell would you-”

    “Haven’t you noticed anything, Jake?” the drummer asked in a tight voice. “Ever since Senator Johnston started blowing his horn the law enforcement has become more suspicious of the industry.”

    Tyler and Eli glanced at each other and rolled their eyes. Matthew was always going on about politics, which could get very annoying, very quickly.

    “What the Hell’s he got to be suspicious about?” Jake scoffed. Matthew just sighed and leaned back, tilting his head.

    “His daughter frequents our gigs.”

    “Who? Johnston’s?”

    “No, your mother- of course Johnston’s.” Matthew rolled his eyes to the ceiling of the van. “I’ve seen her a few times.”

    “You’ve seen his daughter?”

    Matthew nodded slowly. “Amelia. She’s pretty cute.”

    “Cute? Doesn’t sound like your type,” Tyler commented as he shifted on his seat. The usually soft-spoken guitarist had one favourite topic, talking about Matthew Pasan’s womanising ways. They all knew his habit of hooking up with chicks at their shows. He especially liked the working girls. So, for him to take notice of a good Catholic school girl, such as the Senator’s daughter…that was out of character.

    Matthew ground out his smoke without bothering to respond to his friend instead choosing to get out his sticks and tap the back of Jake’s seat.

    “Is John meeting us there?” Eli asked suddenly.

    “Yeah. Why he can’t get over it and come with us, I don’t get,” Matthew muttered as he kept up the tapping.

    “John doesn’t like this van. Can’t blame him, it smells like shit,” Jake chuckled as he turned the vehicle into the parking lot of the theatre. John Anderson was their lead guitarist. He was not the kind of guy you’d expect to see hanging out with them. They were the underdogs. And he was the popular kid at school, the jock who wanted to be perfect at everything.

    “You never told me why you asked him to be part of the band,” Matthew said, his tone sharp.

    Jake sighed. “He’s my cousin, how many times do I have to tell you that?”

    “Second cousin,” Eli pointed out.

    “Yes, well, he’s family.”

    “Family or not, he irritates me.” Matthew glowered out the window as Jake brought the van to a stop near the backstage door. His expression changed to one of consternation. “What the devil…?”

    “What, Pasan?” Jake asked his voice disappearing when he recognised the Senator’s daughter, standing at the backstage door; that long, strawberry blonde hairdo was unmistakable. “Oh…man…you were right. What’s she doing here?”

    Matthew shook his head, though he had a vague recollection of mentioning to her that they would be playing at the Paradise…

    “You didn’t…”

    The drummer blinked, realising he must have said that out loud. “Well, I was just making conversation and she seemed keen.”

    Tyler scoffed as he touched his finger tips to his hair, bouncing the curls absently. “Keen to get in your pants, hey?”

    “Dude, it wasn’t even like that,” Matthew retorted.

    “Sure it wasn’t. We know you,” the guitarist smirked. The drummer crossed his arms, gripping his elbows hard, knuckles whitening.

    “Oh, lay off him,” Eli said as he opened the door and peered out. “We’re here. Let’s get inside.” He jumped out with his bag. Jake took the keys and grabbed his bass case as he joined the singer. Tyler followed with Matthew the last to get out of the van, grumbling half under his breath.

    As they approached the door, Amelia turned a smile softening her anxious expression.

    “You’re here,” she gushed. Eli flashed her a charming smile before making for the door. Tyler and Jake nodded to her without speaking. Matthew stopped next to her. She smiled more.

    “Matthew. I thought you guys would be here sooner.”

    Matthew gave an apologetic shrug of his shoulders. “We got stuck at the road block.”

    Amelia’s lips twisted in a sour expression. “That would be my father’s fault.”

    The pained look in her eyes spoke volumes. The normally soft blue was dark with frustration. Matthew touched his fingertips lightly to her cheek stroking along the line of her cheekbone. Her face coloured.

    “Don’t get me wrong…I love my dad…but he can be so…”

    Matthew shook his head, smiling wryly, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “No. I get it.” He glanced at the door that was now closed, his friends long gone. “I’d better go in. Meet me after the show?”

    Amelia gave a small nod the corners of her mouth lifting in a content smile. “I’ll meet you out here.” She tilted her face up to his and he leaned in to brush his lips lightly against her cheek. Then he stepped to the door without looking back at her; she stood with her fingers resting against her cheek. After a moment she turned to head for the main entrance.

    Unbeknownst to her or Matthew, she was being followed, and watched.

    A large grey SUV sat across the parking lot, tinted windows hiding the occupant. Once the drummer disappeared into the building and Amelia moved out of sight the vehicle started up and coasted across the lot. It paused where the driver could see the front of the theatre before swinging around in a tight U-turn and speeding off into the night.
    the mice endure
    the mice endure


    Age : 38
    Location : Perth, Australia
    Posts : 274
    Join date : 2011-01-10

    The Baker Tapes - Rated R - U/D 9 March Empty Re: The Baker Tapes - Rated R - U/D 9 March

    Post  the mice endure 3/9/2014, 5:17 pm

    1

    Long Beach, CA
    2nd March 2013


    Tape 1
    1st December 2010


    Being on the run is a scary thing. I wouldn't recommend it but, I guess if you have to, try and do it with a crew you trust. I've got that in spades. There's Syn, always with his poetry and argumentative bent. Then there's Christ. Hard nut alcoholic yet loyal to a tee. And then, there's Shads. M Shadows our fearless fucking leader. Yep that's my crew.

    Oh, then there's me, Zacky Vengeance. But, I'm just a tag-a-long... well, not quite. Though it feels that way a lot of the time.

    Oh, and Johnny's just told me he's not an alcoholic, but it's not like I blame him. He got kinda screwed, being in jail and all. I mean it's been ages now...but.

    We're in the middle of nowhere in some bomb shelter that Elijah hired...yeah, I know. Exciting...

    Oh, and you know the strangest thing? The General….Eskino….Peter… He is totally on board with what we’re doing. I mean…fuck, who would’ve thought? But, you know…he was devastated about what happened with Jimmy. Said it was like Matthew Pasan all over again. Anyway, he’s helping to fund this whole exercise. And uh…he’s going to resign as General. Well, officially…I mean, once a General, always a General, right? Still, he told us he couldn’t envision staying where he was. Though he is worried where that will leave The Creed.

    I hate to think who will take his place…probably Jason. That’ll piss Shads off…


    ~~~~~~

    “Zack? What’re you doing?”

    Zacky hit the pause button, glancing up as Matthew was looming over his left shoulder. “What? Nothing.”

    “You don’t have to lie to me.” Matthew chuckled. “Documenting everything is a good idea. Just in case, y’know?” Leaning against the back of his friend’s chair, he scanned the equipment laid out in front of them. They’d accumulated the assorted recording gear over the past three years or so, most of it coming from black market sources. Dangerous, but necessary.

    Zacky’s brow furrowed as he replayed the tape, muttering distractedly, “Did you need something?”

    “I’m bringing Melissa in.” Matthew’s tone was flat, revealing nothing. His friend’s head shot up, his work momentarily forgotten.

    “What? Why?” Zacky’s throat went tight, a churning sensation starting up in his stomach. It was a while since Eli’s assistant had spoken to them. And she was always so…reluctant to open up. Especially around Matthew. Not that Zacky had any luck with her either. She was a closed book and that was somewhat of an irritation.

    Matthew answered, slowly, “She has information we need.”

    “Why you telling me?” Zacky was nonplussed. Matthew Sanders wasn’t one for confiding in others. Especially when it came to managing things. Though he did defer to the mechanic a lot more than he used to.

    “You're the technological whiz here.” Matthew lifted a hand, stalling the protest that was on the tip of Zacky’s tongue. “It's true.”

    Zacky wondered at that, shaking his head. “Still doesn't explain why I need to know.”

    Matthew’s sigh sounded exasperated. “You work the media for us, Zack, and what she knows needs to be filtered through the underground channels.”

    “Underground media networks?” Zacky’s tone changed, becoming wary. He wasn’t sure how his friend had come across his connections but it worried him. After all it had taken considerable time for the mechanic to work his way into the network and to gain the trust of key people within. And for Matthew to be able to find out so easily…then again he had his own connections, didn’t he?

    “Yes.” Matthew said then changed the subject abruptly, nodding to the desk. “So…what were you working on?”

    Zacky waved a hand toward his gear. “Some old files. I haven’t…recorded anything in ages.” Sighing, he rocked back on his chair, propping his feet up on the desk.

    “You going to share them with us?” Matthew popped an eyebrow genuine curiosity in his eyes.

    For a moment, Zacky didn’t respond choosing instead to just gaze thoughtfully at his shoes. The seams were beginning to fray and he absently pondered the wisdom of buying new shoes. Then he lifted his gaze to his friend who was waiting patiently for him to answer.

    He sucked at his bottom lip before he said, “Going to share with the world hopefully.”

    “Hah.” Matthew grinned. “Through your connections?”

    Zacky rolled his eyes. “You’re not funny, Shads…” He shifted so he was leaning over his work again, effectively ignoring his friend.

    Matthew sighed. “Well, whenever you’re ready, V.”

    “Thanks.” Zacky didn’t look up as he turned a dial carefully. “I’m just trying to get them into the right format.” There was a pause before a soft click reached his ears and he gave a satisfied smile.

    His friend laughed. “I still don’t know why you used cassette tapes.”

    “Well, since you and Christ have gone back to the eighties with your hairstyles…” Zacky waved a hand at Matthew’s decidedly long mane. The bigger male grimaced.

    “That was a dare.”

    Zacky cast him a long look of disbelief. “Really? Why’d you keep it then?”

    “Guess I’m lazy.” Matthew shrugged as he a clapped a hand to the shorter male. “I’ll leave you to it.”

    Zacky started to nod but then frowned, remembering something else. “Oh, before you go…there was something else I found.”

    “What was that?” Matthew turned back, an eyebrow raised.

    “This.” The mechanic lifted a thick wad of papers that was tied with a leather ribbon. “A record of the final show Rebel Assassin played before it all started going downhill. The…catalyst, if you will.” He handed it to Matthew who held it gingerly in his big hands.

    “How’d you get a hold of this?”

    Zacky rocked back on his chair again. “You wouldn’t believe it if I told you.”

    “Vengeance…” Matthew’s voice was a low growl.

    Zacky smiled slightly. “It was in Jimmy’s stash.”

    Matthew blinked a misty-eyed look coming to his expression. “That fucker…”

    “He never ceases to amaze me, too,” Zacky dragged his fingers through his hair that at the moment was flat on his head. “Anyway, I haven’t fully read it, yet. But, it was written by Eli.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “How’s that for an interesting development?”

    Matthew set the document down on the desk, nodding. “Intriguing. Well, let me know when you get around to looking at it. I’d like to know what it says.”

    The mechanic smiled grimly as he set it aside and turned back to his prior task. His friend left him to it, pulling his cell phone from his back pocket as he headed for a different part of the bunker.

    * * * * *

    Brian glanced up from the lyrics he was writing as he heard Matthew’s footsteps approaching. The bigger male looked beyond frustrated.

    “What is it?”

    Matthew grunted as he flung himself in the seat next to the poet. “Melissa won’t pick up. I need to get a hold of her.” He tossed his phone on the coffee table that was covered with scrunched up balls of paper. Brian had been busy, writing, writing and more writing. Along with the litter there were numerous bottles of Jack and mugs of coffee clustered to one end of the table. Not all Brian’s.

    Matthew lifted one of the mugs and drained the dregs at the bottom. His friend raised his eyebrows at him. He shook his head his hair moving with the motion.

    “How’s Zack doing?” Brian asked.

    Matthew smiled for the first time that day. “He’s right into those tapes of his. I’m hoping to hear some of it soon. And he found something interesting in Jimmy’s collection.”

    “Oh?” Brian stretched his arms out in front of him, glancing at the fresh ink on his forearms. “What would that be?”

    Matthew cracked his knuckles. “Something about Assassin…”

    “Ah, now that’s funny. Why would The Rev…?”

    “No idea, man.” Matthew set the mug back on the table. “But, I guess we’ll find out soon.” He looked at the bottles of Jack, brow furrowing. “Where’d Christ go?”

    Brian paused in his scribbling. “Outside for some fresh air. He’ll probably have passed out on the grass.”

    “That kid,” Matthew grumbled. “He’ll kill himself one of these days.”

    “The Astor fucked him up,” Brian pointed out, needlessly.

    “He refuses to see the good doc…”

    “No offence to Doc Jones, but who wants to be shrinked?”

    Matthew glanced at his friend. “It’s James.

    “What?”

    “Doc James. Not Jones.”

    “Oh. Right. I was thinking of that song by that band…Aqua.”

    Matthew blinked, nonplussed. “What?”

    “You know. Doctor Jones.” He started singing, “Doctor Jones, Jones…calling Doctor Jones…”

    “Could you not…” Matthew made a face. Brian chuckled as he stuck his pen in his mouth.

    After a moment he commented, “Hope he took a jacket. It’s still cool out nights.”

    Matthew raised his eyebrows, nodding to the leather jacket that hung over the back of his friend’s seat. “You don’t happen to mean that jacket?”

    Brian snorted in response and shook his head. “Short shit doesn’t feel the cold anyway…” He returned his focus to the numerous scraps of paper spread out in front of him. Matthew observed him in silence then he lifted his phone, standing to leave.

    Brian glanced up at him, questioning light in his eyes.

    “Going to try Melissa again,” he said in way of explanation as he made for the stairs. “Better reception outside.” He didn’t see Brian’s nod as he stepped out into the cool night air that filtered down the stairs. He frowned then sighed heavily.

    Johnny had left the outer door open, again.

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