The quiet rumble and swaying of the bus lured three of the five members of Nsync into various levels of sleep. Their assigned bodyguard, Mitchell Lewis and the bus driver, fortunately, were the only ones well rested enough to stay awake during the gray, cloudy late afternoon.

Near the front of the bus, Lance was asleep, seated at the table in the kitchen area with his head rested on his arms, which were folded on the table’s surface. In front of him sat a short stack of papers that he was working through for his businesses…Freelance and A Happy Place.

Joey lay in his bunk nursing a sinus headache. It was always difficult when on the road adjusting to the various climates that they traveled through, but during the height of allergy season was always a killer for him. For the moment, Joey was floating on a benadryl cloud since about two hours ago he had found it necessary to lie down when the medication caused him to have to fight a wave of dizziness each time he stood up.

And, last but not least, on the couch in the lounge directly behind the bunk area laid JC, who had long ago succumbed to the urge to sleep and was now quietly snoring under a thin blanket, the sound of the television quietly providing some background noise for the young man.

Mitchell had settled down behind the buses’ driver, James Havard, and the two quietly passed the time speaking of their families and loved ones back at their respective hometowns of Houston and Little Rock.

As the trio was transported to their next destination, Justin and Chris remained behind, fulfilling some obligations of their own. Justin was busy meeting with various potential donors to his foundation while Chris was going over some contractual negotiations with a popular department store chain wishing to carry the FuMan Skeeto line of clothing.

Eventually, the two groups would be meeting up with each other in about 24 hours to prepare for a photo shoot and to give an interview for an entertainment magazine. The scheduling, as far as their manager Johnny Wright was concerned, was crazed but necessary since the group had just ended one leg of their new tour and had a short interim before the beginning of their second leg of the tour in Europe, which was slated to begin in the early fall. The group had many proverbial irons in the fire, but in all honesty, wouldn’t have it any other way if asked by anyone and that is what made them unique in the industry.

“Are you finished for the day?” Chris’s voice asked over the phone. He and his bodyguard, Dre Thomas were speeding along

a busy downtown avenue on their way to the hotel that he and Justin, along with their bodyguards would be staying.

“Almost,” Justin replied as he stood in the hallway of a high-rise business building not too far from their hotel. “Mike and I should be there in time to pick you guys up for supper or something.”

Justin absent-mindedly played with his tie and glanced out the window. It was always humbling to him to watch so many people scurrying about so far below him. Each one of those people had his or her own lives to lead…their own troubles…their own…

“Hey…J?” Chris’s voice interrupted the young man’s thoughts and he quickly cleared his throat in half embarrassment.

“Yeah…what?” he asked softly chuckling into the phone.

“Caught you,” Chris replied as softly as he joined his friend in laughter before sobering up. What he was getting ready to say would surely disappoint Justin but he was going to have to be the one to do it in the end.

“I wanted to let you know that Dre is shaking his head no on going out tonight. Apparently the cat is out of the bag and there’s no way that we’re going to get out,” Chris said regretfully. Many a night had been spent locked up in hotel rooms rather than out on the town due to safety issues concerning not only the group, but also those fans who might disrupt the safety and well being of those around them.

At the end of Chris’s statement, silence reigned over the line for a few seconds then a little sigh on Justin’s end effectively put an end to it before he spoke.

“Oh well…maybe next time,” he said with a touch of frustration in his voice as he looked at his bodyguard, Mike Headnot approaching him. He understood that those men that had been hired by the group to keep them safe were only trying to do what was thought to be best, but it would be nice every once in a while to be allowed to be somewhat normal even if only for one evening.

“Hey…Dre just said that he’s buying tonight,” Chris said brightly as he tried to avoid the playful slap aimed for his head by the large man seated beside.

“Oh, well in that case, tell him I want a large, steamed Maine lobster and a nice juicy prime rib,” Justin answered with a laugh as he glanced to his left and saw that he was being summoned back into the boardroom to complete his portion of the meeting.

“Listen…I gotta go, Chris. I’m up to bat again,” Justin said quietly as he slowly approached the open door. “We’ll catch up with you guys pretty quick.”

”Give me a call when you’re on your way in,” Chris said as he watched Dre get out of the now parked limo to check the hotel’s back entrance to see if it was safe for him to enter.

“Okay, bye.” Justin quickly closed his phone and turned it off to prevent any interruptions during the meeting while at the same time, Chris jumped out of the limo and ran to Dre’s side and into the hotel.

The conversation at the front of the bus had become quiet with Mitchell reading the latest John Grisham novel while James watched a car following rather closely behind him. It was common practice for the buses carrying the members of Nsync, their band, crew and others to travel the less congested highways in the hopes of avoiding fans who might cause accidents in their haste to catch a glimpse of who might possibly be on one of the buses. And, on more than one occasion, James or one of the other drivers had had to alert the local sheriff or police departments or state law enforcement of less than courteous, safe drivers and as James watched the vehicle traveling behind him, he was beginning to wonder if he would have to do it again.

“Hey…Mitchell,” James said quietly over his shoulder. “Um…we’ve got someone following us pretty close.”

”Really?” Mitchell asked as he put his novel down and stooped behind James so that he could have a better glimpse at the rearview mirrors. He could clearly see a dark blue van following the bus…its front bumper easily within 15 to 20 feet of the back of the bus.

“Go check on the guys, Mitch,” James said as he continued to glance at the mirrors every few seconds. “Make sure their situated okay…you know…just in case.” The bus driver did not want to have to worry about one of the young men falling from precarious sleeping positions if he happened to need to take evasive action against the vehicle following them.

“Sure, James,” Mitchell replied as he left the front of the bus to check on the sleeping young men.

His first stop was the kitchen area and he saw that Lance was no longer asleep at the table, but had moved over to the long couch that lined the opposite wall. His right arm hung slack over the side of the couch, his fingertips just brushing the carpet beneath them.

Mitchell gingerly picked up Lance’s arm and tucked it at the young man’s side then pulled a thin throw blanket off the back of the couch and covered him without the young man moving a muscle. Lance was usually a very light sleeper but the group’s hectic schedule along with his growing businesses, were apparently beginning to take their toll on him.

Mitchell then moved through an open doorway leading to the sleeping area of the bus and paused in front of the only bunk hidden by a closed curtain. He could hear steady breathing coming from the other side and very carefully parted the dark material to reveal Joey sleeping heavily, his back to the curtain, his shirt slightly riding up his back, his sheets in a tangled mess around his sweatpant covered legs. The bodyguard could easily sympathize with the sleeping young man. He had battled his own allergies just a week or two ago when the group had passed through an area of highway that was being mowed by the state’s highway department. The dust that had been kicked up on the twenty to thirty-mile stretch of highway plagued him for the next two days and he became very good friends with his prescription sinus medication. As quietly as possible, Mitchell pulled the curtain to and continued to the very back of the bus to the lounge area.

As he walked through the small doorway separating the lounge from the sleeping area, Mitchell could see JC’s slack body lying on the couch at the back wall. He was curled around a pillow with a thin blanket covering the lower half of his lanky form. Out of the three, Mitchell knew that JC could sleep through absolutely anything. With a small grin, he remember the time that the young man had slept through a small earthquake in the LA area about 2 years ago and a few months ago during a storm so severe that the hotel that they were staying in was forced to move its occupants to safe areas. Unable to readily awaken his charge, Mitchell had simply flung JC’s limp form over his shoulder and carried him to the stairwell where they had been told to wait for more security to meet them and lead them to a safer location. Mitchell was sure that he would never forget the look of surprise on the young man’s face when he had awakened the next morning in another room, on another bed pressed between Joey and Justin’s sleeping forms. That situation was a source of running jokes and gags for weeks and only now was no longer mentioned when group members had to share hotel rooms on odd occasions.

With a shake of his head and a small chuckle, Mitchell quietly stole back through the length of the bus checking one more time on Joey and Lance as he passed back through their areas. Once back at the front of the bus he stooped down to take a look at the vehicle behind them in the rearview mirrors.

“Still there, huh, James,” he stated in a voice that was a mixture of annoyance and growing concern.

“Yep,” James answered. “Boys still asleep?”

”Like babies,” Mitchell replied. “What do you want to…whoa…wait a minute, James. Here they come.”

James instantly tightened his grip on the steering wheel and kept his eyes darting from the road ahead of him to the mirror beside him as the vehicle moved up along the side of the bus, easily keeping pace with the speed that the bus was set on.

“Move up, Mitch,” James said. “I want them to know that I’m not alone. Pull out your phone too.”

”Can’t…it’s in the back in my bunk,” Mitchell answered in a clipped tone as he stood up and moved down into the driver’s area in time to see a car load of young men…3 or 4 of them…all in their mid to late twenties looking in their direction. The man in the front passenger seat rolled down his window and yelled in their direction as he pointed in the direction of the rear left tires.

“You’ve got a problem back there…looks like you’re going to lose the tread on the inside tire!” he shouted once James had opened his own window. Mitchell looked at the young man’s face and saw genuine concern then looked at the rear passengers and saw similar looks. He couldn’t see the driver, who kept his head turned in the direction in front of him.

“Do we believe them?” James asked as he continued to look straight ahead. He did not want to take a chance on a vehicle coming from the opposite direction without his being prepared. Mitchell nodded his head.

“Slow it down, James and I’ll get out and take a look. You can stay inside with the guys and lock the door behind me,” Mitchell replied.

James nodded his head and began to slow the bus down while at the same time the van also slowed down and pulled in behind the large vehicle. He spied a small rest stop area ahead and pulled into it, being mindful of the many potholes and the narrow passage that the large bus was navigating between the trees bordering either side of the lane. Seconds later, he opened the door of the bus and Mitchell stepped outside while James chanced a glance at his rearview mirror. He returned his attention to see that Mitchell was no longer there and the view in the right side mirror showed him that something was not right, but before he even had a chance to pull the door closed, James found himself to be looking down the barrel of a shotgun.

“I think you need to come on out here, mister and join your friend,” the young man holding the gun said firmly.

“Don’t touch anything,” he added when he noticed the bus driver reaching to the other side of his chair his fingers just brushing against the holster of a pistol he was in the habit of carrying.

James stopped his movement and slowly stood up, his hands in front of him, then stepped off the bus. He kept his eyes on the young man before him, not daring to glance back into the bus. He didn’t want to give away the fact that there were others inside. He was quickly pushed toward the back of the bus where Mitchell was lying on the ground, his hands bound behind his back and a shotgun leveled at his head.

“Down on the ground, mister,” another one of the men said as he pointed a pistol in his direction.

Minutes later, James and Mitchell were effectively rendered immobile on the side of the lane, their hands and feet bound and mouths gagged. Helplessly, the pair watched as three of the four men boarded the bus before driving away while the fourth drove off in their vehicle.

‘Please, God…help us…help the boys,’ Mitchell silently prayed as he wrenched his wrists back and forth in an effort to free himself while James just shook his head in a mixture of horror and astonishment…three members of Nsync had just been kidnapped.

The first thing that alerted Lance to the fact that something wasn’t right was the unsteady, rocking motion of the bus along with a sudden, sharp turn. James had never driven in such a manner and Lance became concerned that something was wrong, but before he could act on that concern an unfamiliar man strode into the kitchen area and yanked him off the couch with one quick movement.

Lance fearfully shouted out but was silenced when he was felled with a glancing blow to the head. The intruder stood over Lance’s limp form and wiped the blood from the butt of his pistol before moving toward the back of the bus while another one of the young men flipped Lance over to his stomach to bind his hands behind him.

Joey slowly awakened from his drug-induced sleep when he felt a draft on his back. He immediately thought that either Lance or JC was checking on him and turned over to face them, but yelped in surprise when he found himself to be facing a stranger with a gun pointed in his direction.

“Turn back around…hands behind you,” the man said as he brought the gun to rest on Joey’s forehead. Joey shuddered and closed his eyes then quickly reopened them in the hopes that it was all a nightmare, but was horrified to discover he was very much mistaken.

“Still here and waiting,” the man said as he cocked the hammer of his pistol. “Turn over…now.”

Joey numbly nodded his head then turned his back to the man before putting his hands behind his back.

“Please…take what you want and don’t hurt us,” Joey said quietly, wincing at how tightly his hands were being bound.

“Don’t worry…we are taking what we want and if you cooperate, maybe we won’t have to hurt you…” the man said before turning the gun in his hand. “Hurt you too badly that is,” he added as he swung the butt of the gun in an arch at the back of Joey’s head. Seconds later the young man moved toward the back of the bus leaving Joey’s unconscious form lying limply in his bunk.

“What’s going on?” JC asked quietly as he watched the approaching figure. He had awakened seconds earlier and had heard Joey being hit over the head and now he was fearfully facing the same man.

“Nothing for you to worry about,” was the quiet answer.

“What do you want?” JC asked as he moved along the couch in an effort to move away from the approaching figure.

“We want you and the other two,” was the simple reply as he cocked his pistol and motioned at the shaking young man before him. “Now…down on the floor…hands behind you and maybe,” the stranger said, cocking his head as he watched JC follow his directions.

“…maybe you won’t get hurt…too badly.”

Back                 Feedback                 Chapter 2