Page 10 of Velvet and Valor
Oh fuck. I’ve seen enough spy movies to know that I’ve royally screwed up. This is some kind of coded phrase, which means he is finally realizing I’m not who he thinks I am. If I don't come up with the right response, there is no telling what he might do now.
I shift around nervously when I spot a swiftly passing road sign.
“Hey, I thought you said we were headed to the marina? Highway 63 is basically desert,” I say as my mind pieces together what that means for me.
I have no idea who these men are, or what they want, but I know being in a remote location with them cannot be good for my health. What I need now is a miracle.
“Hey boss,” the driver calls from up front. “There’s this black muscle car that's been following us for a while.”
Blade’s eyes narrow, and he gives me a look as if to sayI’m not done with you, yet.But he does turn his attention elsewhere for the time being.
“Are you certain?” he asks the driver.
“No, but he’s been with us a while.”
“Get off the highway for a bit, then get back on and see if he follows.”
My heart skips a beat. Is there someone following us for real? Is it a cop? I hope it’s a cop. I guess it could also be whoever they think I am. In that case, I’m probably not going to be rescued.
The limo changes lanes and prepares to get off on the exit ramp. But the muscle car pours on a burst of speed, engine gunning like an angry hornet’s nest. It flashes past us so fast I can’t get a good look at the driver.
“What the hell?” Our driver snaps. “He’s blocking us!”
“Then I’d say he’s definitely trouble,” Blade says, fastening his seat belt. I do the same after a moment, deciding it can’t hurt. “We can’t let him stop us.”
The driver reaches into the center console beside him and pulls out a pistol. I clap my hand over my mouth to stifle a shriek when I see it. Fuck, I knew I was in over my head but a gun?
My heart sinks, whoever is in the muscle car is about to be in for a bad time.
The driver takes aim, but the muscle car slams on its brakes and the first barrage of bullets flies harmlessly out the window. The muscle car slides into the lane behind us, and then accelerates.
“I think he’s going to?—”
I jerk forward hard against the seat belt as the muscle car rams us. Blade’s eyes bulge out of his head.
“Is that guy nuts?” he sputters. “We’re heavier! Push him off the road!”
The limo driver throws the wheel hard to the left. We swerve crazily along the road, tires squealing. The muscle car flashes past us, then slams on its own brakes. I brace for impact as we careen toward the concrete barrier in the center of the freeway.
The limo’s rear flank smashes into the barrier. Our drink glasses turn into missiles, bouncing around the back and causing pain when they hit. I cover my face with one hand while clinging to the briefcase with my other. It’s the only weapon I have; I was bluffing about the pepper spray.
Regaining control, our driver guns the engine and aims right for the muscle car. I get a brief flash of the other driver. Long hair, strong jaw, and a look of supreme concentration are the only details I can glean in that instant.
The muscle car almost makes it out of our path. Almost. The front edge of the limo clips the rear bumper of the black car. I’m braced for the impact, and it still rattles the teeth in my head. Blade man cries out as one of the bouncing drink glasses cracks into his temple.
“Are you okay, Mr. Moorcrock?” the driver shouts.
“You idiot,” he snarls, holding a hand up to the red mark on his head. “No names!”
“Sorry Mr. Moor–boss!”
“Jesus Christ,” Moorcrock sputters. “Are you kidding me right now? Just drive the damn car! That maniac is trying to hit us again.”
I throw a glance over my shoulder. Sure enough, the ‘maniac’ in question is gunning hard for us. His vehicle doesn’t seem to have sustained much damage in the collision. But is that good news or bad news for me?
Just because the long haired guy in the black car is their enemy doesn’t mean he's my friend.
The irony of being in a car chase down the LA freeway when I’m in the movie industry is not lost on me. Unlike the movies, though, there are no stuntmen and no retakes. If we crash, we could all end up dead.
