Page 30 of Velvet and Valor (Platinum Security: Shadows of LA #4)

AXEL

The gravel crunches under my feet as I stride up to the base of the old shipyard. Great timber skeletons creak in the wind, testaments to the past when this place had been a booming business.

Now most ships are made overseas, where labor is cheap. This relic is slowly falling apart, and someday it will be overtaken by the sea. I wonder if I’m a relic, too. No longer a soldier, not really a civilian.

I can’t be the one anymore, and I’m not sure I’m cut out to be the other. The only thing I’ve been any good at is keeping June company. Hell, I can’t even do that right. Our last parting was not exactly a good one.

Now I’m worried I’ll never see her again. If Ricky or Moorcrock hurt her, I’ll never forgive myself.

I hope Ezra managed to shake his tail. I have a feeling I’m going to need the backup, even with my clever plan.

“That’s far enough.”

I glance up and spot a man in a tracksuit crouching on the edge of an askew concrete pylon. He pulls up his shirt so I can see the silver barrel of his pistol.

“Where’s June?” I ask.

He smirks. “Moorcrock said you’d have a one track mind. She’s inside, hero. You try anything funny, and….”

He drags his finger across his neck and makes the obligatory cutting noise. I’m not impressed. At this point, I can’t afford to let them get under my skin. I need to stay calm and rational; it’s the best chance for us to get out of this alive.

I walk through the yawning portal of the shadowy doorway. I get about three steps inside the shipyard structure when a blindingly bright light shines right in my face.

“Welcome, Axel,” Moorcrock’s voice says from somewhere. With all of the echoes, it’s hard to pin down where he’s at. “Have you got my gems?”

“Right here,” I say, taking a package out of my jacket. “Where’s June?”

“As far as I know, she’s safe,” he says.

“Not good enough. I want to see her, now.”

The bright light is hard to deal with, but my eyes are adjusting. Slowly, I can see at least two other people in here. Both too tall to be June. Goons working for Moorcrock, more likely than not.

“While we’re trading clichés, you’re not in any position to make demands.”

I smirk. “You think?”

I pull my jacket the rest of the way off, revealing the sticks of dynamite strapped to my body. Well, okay, they are highway flares but I hope they won’t be able to tell.

“I can blow us all to hell, Moorcrock. I doubt even gemstones are going to survive this detonation.”

“June will die too,” Moorcrock says.

“So, she is here,” I counter. “So, you can produce her.”

“Not a chance,” Moorcrock says. “The only way you’ll ever see her again is if you take off that silly harness and act like a grown up.”

“I guess I'm a perpetual child. I’m not fucking around with you, here. Either I get my way, or we all go boom,” I say.

Moorcrock groans. “Hasn’t this gone on long enough? Aren’t you tired of this affair?” Moorcrock shakes his head. “I certainly am.”

“Maybe you should have thought of that before you went and tried to rip off the scariest mofo’s out there besides myself,” I say.

Moorcrock smirks. “I’ll admit, I never thought this would get so complicated.” He shrugs his shoulders. “I had no way of knowing the courier had gotten herself mixed up with a random film producer. Only in Hollywood, am I right?”

“It does seem like the script to a movie,” I say. “Not a good movie, mind you. A Lifetime original movie.”

“I prefer comedies myself,” Moorcrock says. “But we’re going around in circles, aren’t we, Mr. Sawyer? There are only two paths forward here.”

“Is that so?” I ask. I don’t like the clever light in Moorcrock’s eyes. He’s taking an awful long gander at my ‘dynamite’ vest.

“Indeed,” Moorcrock replies. “Possibility number one: you’re not bluffing. If I don’t give you June in the next minute or so, you’re going to blow us all to smithereens. I’ll admit I’ve been worried this is the path the future will take.”

“You’re a psychic, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” he replies with a grin. “Possibility number two: You’re bluffing. You either have no intention of blowing yourself up until you know June is safe, or that’s not even an explosive vest to begin with.”

“Isn’t that three possibilities?” I ask, turning my body sideways so as to present a smaller target.

I move my hand back toward my concealed handgun as well.

I think this is about to get ugly. Real ugly.

There’s three of them, and only one of me.

They can triangulate their fire and all I can do is spray bullets and pray.

“You're stalling,” Moorcrock says. “Maybe you think help is coming. I assure you, Mr. Sawyer, you’re quite alone.”

I hear the click of a gun being cocked in the darkness. My hand starts to move for my own weapon when a sharp crack shatters the fragile tension.

I move fast, firing off some random shots in Moorcrock’s direction while I dive behind a support pillar. Bullets ricochet all around me, sending bits of concrete raining down onto the floor. Some of the dust cakes my sleeves, making it clear how close the shots truly come.

Judging from the urgent shouts on the other side, Moorcrock and his crew are just as confused as I am. So, if it wasn’t one of them who shot, who fired first? Maybe the Triad has finally caught on to who really tried to rip them off here.

“Sal’s hit, boss,” shouts a goon in the dark.

“Deal with it later,” Moorcrock hollers back. “Don’t let up! He’s a Ranger!”

“Yeah, but who shot Sa—”

Gunshots blast through the air, and Moorcock’s crew ducks and covers. Whoever is firing is definitely on my side. Or at the least, against Moorcrock.

I reload my piece, then lay down some fire just to keep Moorcrock and his crew ducking. I dash across the floor toward the likely direction of my savior.

“Yo, Ezra, is that you?” I ask.

“Guess again.”

My jaw about hits the floor at the sound of the voice. It can’t be.

Someone moves out of the deeper shadows and joins me behind the support pillar, pressing their body against mine.

“Hello, handsome,” June says, her lips pulled back in a fierce grin. “I thought you could use some backup.”

“I can’t believe you just did that,” I sputter. “How did you escape Ricky?”

“I had a little help from Neptune, God of the Sea,” she says.

“What?”

“I’ll explain later,” she says, “What’s really important in getting out of here alive. I know what they are after, and I know where to find it.”

“The gems? I already got them from my place. Do you know how many men Moorcrock has?” I ask. “Do you know their relative positions?”

“I don’t know,” she says.

“You don't know which one? How many or what positions?”

“Neither one!” Her face is a mask of concern in the half dark. “I just got here, you clearly are steps ahead of me.”

Now I'm really confused. I guess Moorcrock must have lied to me. He never had June in his custody. He just wanted me to think that he did so I would bring him the gems.

The sound of footsteps in the dark make me clench up. It sounds like there are reinforcements coming. And I don’t have to guess whose side they are on.

“Are you all right, Boss?” says a voice in the dark. I risk a glance around the pillar and see several people hunched over behind a toppled pillar. I might take one of them out, maybe, if I get lucky. The rest will hunker down and I’m already low on bullets.

“I’m fine,” Moorcrock says, his voice strained. “This blood isn’t mine. Smitty didn't make it.”

“Son of a bitch,” spits the new voice. Great. Now they have someone to avenge.

“Last chance, Sawyer,” Moorcrock hollers. “You’re outnumbered, and outgunned. Surely it doesn’t take a soldier to understand the tactical disadvantage you’re under.”

“What do you want me to do?” I ask.

“Throw me the gems, and I'll let you walk out of here.”

“I don’t believe you,” I reply.

“What have you got to lose?”

He has me there. I take out the small bag and grimace at it.

“Don’t do it, Axel,” she says. “There’s…are you wearing dynamite strapped to your chest?”

“No,” I say. “And I don’t see where we have much choice.”

I throw the pouch of gems as hard as I can in Moorcrock’s direction. It bounces around, thudding and echoing in the darkness.

“I said throw it to me, Hercules,” Moorcrock snaps. “Go, see if it’s the stuff.”

I bought us a few more seconds. I look for the exit. Moorcrock and his boys are between us and the way out. Just great. This isn’t going to end well.

“June,” I say through tightly clenched teeth. “Give me your gun.”

“What?” she asks. “Why?”

“Just do it, please.”

She hands me her weapon. Snub nosed revolver, not the best, but I’ll take it.

“Get ready to move,” I say. “When I distract them, I want you to run for the exit as fast as you can. Don’t slow down, don’t look back.”

“Axel, what are you going to do?” she asks, fear dancing in her eyes. God, I love her so much. This might be my last, my only chance to say it.

“I love you, June,” I say.

Before she can reply, I mash my mouth on top of hers. I kiss her hard, trying to express everything I feel in just a couple of seconds.

“Axel, no,” she whimpers. “Don’t do this, please.”

I prepare to get out of my cover and sell myself as dearly as I can. A whistling sound cuts me off. A familiar whistling sound.

“Duck!”

I tackle June and cover her with my own body right before the RPG hits. An orange fireball blossoms across the room, turning virtual night into virtual day. I catch a glimpse of Ezra standing in the threshold, tossing the smoking launcher to the side and drawing out his combat rifle.

“Did you call in a freaking tank?” June shouts.

“Better, I called Ezra,” I said. “Old army buddy. Heavy weapons expert. You’ll like him.”

“Are you kidding? I love the guy already, considering he just saved our butts.”

Ezra mows down Moorcrock’s goons with the lead hose, cutting them to ribbons in a matter of seconds. Moorcrock runs off into the darkness, giving us the slip. Or so he thinks.

“You all right, Axel?” Ezra calls.

“Never better,” I reply. “Where did you get that thing, anyway?”

“Just a little souvenir,” Ezra replies.

“Yeah, from the black market. Keep June safe!”

“What?”

I take off after Moorcrock. He disappeared behind a storm sluice. I find that the sluice slants downward into a channel designed to lead out to the ocean.

“End of the line, Moorcrock,” I shout.

He spins around and levels a pistol my way. I throw myself to the ground as he fires off a three-round burst. The echoes of the ricocheting shots mingle with his rapid footsteps.

I spring to my feet and give chase. He disappears into the gridwork of derelict ship hulls. I slow down to a walk, moving toe to heel in order to reduce the sound of my footsteps. Sweat rolls into my eyes and I blink it away.

I struggle to contain my breathing and plant my back against the rusted hull of a forgotten boat. Checking my corners, I move carefully around the foredeck. No sign of him.

An animalistic grunt reaches my ear, followed by a wrenching of metal. I turn to see a nearby hull toppling over right on top of me. Moorcrock must have pushed it. I don’t have time to think, just react.

I leap away and flop hard on my chest as the hull crashes behind me. Coughing, I drag air back into my tortured lungs as I scan for Moorcrock. I see him, running toward an even larger storm sluice than the first. If he makes it outside, I might lose him forever.

Moorcrock hears the scuffle of my shoes on the slick concrete. He turns and fires. I throw myself onto the concrete until he empties his clip. The moment I hear his feet running again, I get up.

“Stop!” I shout, pointing my own weapon. “It’s over, Moorcrock.”

“Eat shit!”

He turns around and throws his gun. It skitters harmlessly by me and I race up behind him. Why did he just stop?

I find out why when I collide with him and we both fly off the edge of the sluice. A twenty-foot drop passes by in an eye-blink before we slam down, hard. The wind explodes out of my lungs. I can’t even groan in agony.

Nothing seems broken. My mind screams danger, danger. Moorcrock could still be a threat. I roll off of him with effort, looking for any hidden weapons he might have…

My breathing comes in ragged gasps, but I stop struggling. There’s no point. Moorcrock isn’t going to hurt me. He isn’t going to hurt anyone ever again. His neck is twisted at a grotesque angle, his tongue thrust out in an almost comical fashion.

It’s over. June is safe. And as an added bonus, we recovered the stolen gems which should make Jax’s buddy on the LAPD happy.