See the new
Fan Fiction Story Based on G.I. Jane
by Dorothy Franklin
Viggo Mortensen looked at his watch. Though it was almost midnight, the line of autograph seekers still stretched almost to the door. He took another sip of San Miguel as he looked up to greet his next fan.
What the heck? He almost choked on his beer. This must be some sort of joke. He swallowed, smiling carefully. "Nice costume," he offered politely.
The imposing man facing him, with Coincidence of Memory in hand, looked puzzled. "Costume?" he asked. He wasn't sure whether to feel offended or amused. "This is my uniform, Mr. Mortensen. I'm in the Navy. Stationed over at Catalano Naval Base."
"Right," replied Viggo. "Sorry." He'd been at this too long, he thought, sliding the beer away. He reached for the offered book, asking automatically, "What's your name?"
"Urgayle. Jack Urgayle. But the autograph isn't for me, it's a gift for my gir..." he choked on the word, "girlfriend."
"So whom would you like me to write this to?" Viggo asked calmly. He'd decided to go along with the gag, but was still shaken that someone could imitate him so well. He could even see a tiny scar on the man's upper lip, under the moustache. The studios should hire this guy as a double, he thought.
"Her name's Jordan, Jordan O'Neil." Jack thought a moment. "She says you like William Blake. Could you write 'to a fellow Blake lover'?"
This was too much. "The lieutenant wasn't my girlfriend," Viggo replied, shaking his head. "We were really careful not to go there. You need to watch the movie again. I just left her the book and medal as a sign of my respect." It was way too late for this. He needed to keep the line moving. He sighed as he started writing the requested autograph.
Urgayle's jaw dropped. "You know Jordan? What book? What medal? Were you in the service?" Was this some sort of joke? And how would this actor-poet fellow know about the book and medal? He was starting to feel irritated.
Viggo glanced up and saw the tension in the man's face. If he was going to be attacked by one of his prior movie characters, he thought, he'd prefer it to be Walker, or Moses, or for that matter almost anyone but the Command Master Chief. It was time to move this fellow along.
Viggo turned on a friendly, conciliatory smile, shining it on the glowering Chief. "I'm sorry, sir," he said. "It's been a long night. I guess I've had one too many beers." He offered the signed book with his left hand, extending his right for a handshake. "Just ignore what I said. Hope Jordan enjoys the book."
Jack was still suspicious but had no desire to start a brawl. With all these fans, he figured he'd be pummelled to death in minutes if he laid a hand on their hero. He swallowed his ire and accepted the offered book and handshake. "Thanks," he growled. He turned and slowly limped toward the exit with his prize.
Viggo shook his head and made a mental note. Only one beer per signing from now on. Then he got back to work. He looked up and smiled. "Who's next?"