by Sean Black
"If you still have any feelings for me, Jason..."
It was his turn to cut her off. "Oh, that's precious. What about me, huh? You've been going round telling half the town I'm some kind of psycho."
She couldn't bring herself to let this go. He was a psycho and it wasn't news. "You could have killed me."
"Jesus, don't be so melodramatic," he said, pounding the rest of his beer and waving for another before the empty glass had touched back down on the table. It was his fourth since he had arrived.
"It's the truth," she said, trying to regroup. He wasn't going to concede anything, not unless he was forced into it. She would give it one last try but that was it. "Please, Jason. I'm begging you. I don't want this hanging over me."
Carrie sat across the street, listening to the conversation taking place inside the restaurant. She keyed her radio. "Lock?"
"I'm here."
"He's not going for it," she said.
"Didn't think he would," he replied. "Let me know when they leave."
Back inside the restaurant, Summer had shifted gears. Now it was all about plan B and that required a transition.
First she ordered a drink from the waiter. The request met with Jason's approval.
"That's my girl," he said. "You are way too uptight these days. You really have to learn to loosen up."
"You want something to remember me by?" she said. "How about one last time? For old time's sake."
Across the table his smile rearranged itself into a leer. She knew she could rely on his baser instincts.
"Now you're talking," Jason said. "You missed me, right? That's what all this has been about."
She giggled. "You know me better than I know myself. So what do you say? Shall we..."
Jason was already waving for the check.
Sixteen
IT WAS KNOWN in the close protection trade as a come on – a pre-arranged decoy or distraction that served as a prelude to the main event. It could take many forms; a vocal protestor rushing past a barricade, drawing a bodyguard away from their principal and making the real assassin's job that much easier; a small IED designed to cause injury which drew the rescuers into the kill zone of a much larger device. The come on had many variations but none was simpler or more effective than a man being led by his baser instincts into a bad situation – in this case, a deserted parking structure.
Lock listened to Carrie's updates in his earpiece as Summer walked Jason back to the Prius. He risked a smile. This was like shooting fish in a barrel.
Down in the parking attendant's booth, Ty watched as the couple walked towards the elevator. The elevator route had been selected to ensure that Jason wouldn't see the closed off, empty parking levels until it was too late.
Summer pushed the call button. Ty kept his head down but he needn't have worried. Jason was way too wrapped up in the young actress to notice him. For most people in a big city, parking attendants, even those of the six foot four variety, were so much urban foliage.
Jason pawed at the actress, and the doors closed. Ty couldn't wait to see the asshole's expression when he stepped out on the top floor to be greeted by Lock. It was payback time and the Australian actor had earned everything that was coming his way.
Ty waited for the call light to disappear. He keyed his radio. "On their way."
Twenty four seconds. That was the time it would take the elevator to make its way up to the top floor. Lock had timed it – twice. He checked his watch, counting the seconds. He began moving into position so that he wouldn't be visible when the elevator doors opened.
As the second hand of his watch swept down towards the twenty four second mark, he tensed, ready to make his move. The elevator doors didn't open. Twenty five seconds. Twenty six. He listened hard for the whine of the cable or the whir of the motor but the only noise was the distant sound of traffic from Westwood Boulevard.
Seventeen
JASON HAD HER backed into the corner of the elevator. His right hand ran up her thigh. She could smell the beer on his breath as he whispered into her ear. "Why don't we just do it here?...You'd like that, right?....Couldn't stay away from me, could you?" On and on he went, his erotic monologue making her stomach lurch as he pawed at her.
She could see the control panel where he had pulled out the stop button. She had no way of reaching it from where she was. They were between floors. Unless there was an override it would be impossible for either Lock or Ty to get to her. And even if they could it would blow the element of surprise that they needed.
She tried to dredge up what she'd been taught about self defense. He was so close to her that she could barely move. Her back was against the side panel. She needed to get some distance between them.
"Hold on there," she whispered to him, desperately trying to keep the panic out of her voice. "Let me take my jeans off."
He took a step back. She put her arms on his shoulders and ran her tongue over her lips. He smiled with anticipation and closed his eyes.
Her hands tightened on his shoulders. She brought her right knee up as hard as she could into his groin.
He roared with pain as her knee slammed into his groin. She let go of him and scrambled towards the elevator panel. She hit the plunger of the emergency stop button back into place and jabbed a finger at the already lit level ten. The elevator shuddered back into life.
Jason was still doubled over.
The elevator inched upwards as he staggered towards her. "You bitch, I'm going to fucking kill you for that," said Jason, advancing on her. "No," said Jason. "I got an even better idea. I'm going to make sure the world knows what a little slut you truly are."
She was backed against the doors now. As they began to open, she fell backwards. Jason loomed over her, ready to pounce, his fists clenched.
A car appeared from nowhere and the passenger door opened. A blonde woman leaned over. "Get in," she said. Summer didn't need to be asked twice. She climbed into the passenger seat. The car took off at speed before she had even closed the door. It raced towards the down ramp. The blonde woman who was driving seemed to be in complete control as she spun the wheel, and the car almost left the ground as they hurtled down the levels. "You okay?" she asked Summer.
"I'll tell you in a minute."
Eighteen
IT'S SAID THAT we are born with two fears hard-wired into our minds by millions of years of evolution; the fear of loud noise and the fear of falling. Lock didn't buy it. Sure you could be startled by a sudden unexpected loud noise but he wasn't sure it qualified as a fear. People had a startle response, that was all. They weren't scared of loud noise in the way that they were of fears that they picked up along the way.
Falling was different. The dread of that lay in the anticipation, and anticipation was the key to fear. Even with a parachute and a reserve strapped to your back, falling was something that focused your mind, and right now, thought Lock, he was holding onto a man who desperately needed some focus in his life.
Dragging Jason by the collar of his jacket towards the edge of the building, Lock propelled him towards the concrete lip that faced the alleyway. He hustled him towards it the same way he would move a principal out of danger, quickly and with determination. Whatever Summer had done to him in the elevator had already sapped a lot of his energy. As they drew closer to the edge, Jason began to struggle. To settle him, Lock took his left thumb and jammed it as hard as he could into the thin cord of nerves at the hinge of Jason's jaw. Next he grabbed the actor's hand at the wrist and bent it back. Controlling someone in a situation like this was a matter of biomechanics and if Lock was to achieve what he needed without ending up facing a murder rap he would have to get this just right. With a hundred foot drop in play there was very little margin for error.
Lock shuffled Jason so that he was facing the building opposite. The actor's face grew pale as he contemplated the drop.
"I'll leave her alone, okay?" he said, his voice threatening to tip over into falsetto.
With hi
s right hand still stressing Jason's wrist joint, Lock grabbed the actor's hair and yanked his head around so that he was looking at straight at him. "Too late, asshole. I have a very strict one-strike policy when it comes to guys like you and you've already had yours."
"The tape. Is that what this is about?"
Lock shook his head. "No, this is about you living in your little Hollywood bubble where everyone kisses your ass and you never have to face the consequences of your actions. Well, surprise, surprise, I don't care. You want to destroy someone I'm charged with protecting? Then I'm going to destroy you."
"You're not going to kill me," said Jason.
"You're right. I'm not. Gravity's going to take care of that," said Lock, using his right leg to sweep Jason's feet out from under him, and tilting him up and over the edge. Now there was more of the actor hanging over the edge than there was on the parking structure side of the concrete lip. His legs kicked out helplessly in mid air. The only thing that was preventing him plunging head first to the street below was Lock.
He began to sob. His face crumpled on itself, his bottom lip jutting outwards as tears welled in his eyes. Lock hoped that Ty was getting a good close up.
"Please, I'm begging you," said Jason. "I'll do anything you want me to. You name it. Just let me go."
"Anything?" Lock asked.
"Anything," sobbed the actor, fear completely overwhelming him as his body gave up all control and the smell of human faeces hit Lock's nostrils with a blast of warm air.
Nineteen
Two Days Later
WITH TY DRIVING and Lock riding shotgun, the black Range Rover powered through Marina Del Rey. Summer sat in back with her manager. He handed her a sheaf of papers and a Mont Blanc fountain pen. She signed them with a flourish that signaled obvious relief.
"Okay, we're done," said Bernstein.
The papers were joint non disclosure agreements between her and Jason. Lock had brokered the detente. In return for Jason destroying the intimate footage of Summer, Lock did the same with the footage that he had showing the Hollywood tough guy breaking down to the point where he had soiled himself. The word blackmail had been bandied about at some length to no great effect. As far as Lock was concerned, Jason had started it and he had finished it. No one wanted to see this mess in court, no matter how much noise they made.
Of course none of that was mentioned in the legal documents. The wording was more general and related to an agreement between the two stars that they would not, under any circumstances, discuss their relationship or indeed release any material that related to their time together, either directly or via a third party. That also covered the pictures of Summer's injuries. As far as Lock was concerned, Jason had got a damn good deal.
Summer's manager, Bernstein, looked up from the paperwork. "I don't know how you got him to agree to this, Mr. Lock, but thank you."
Lock shrugged. "Sometimes all people need is a little perspective. It's a long way to the top but you can get back down pretty quick. I think Mr. Durham realized that."
Ty choked back a laugh, covering it by coughing into his hand. "Sorry, must be this air conditioning."
Next to Bernstein, Summer looked like a young woman with the weight of the world lifted from her shoulders. She was flying out to join the cast of her new movie. She could move on with her life. Apart from whoever did Jason's laundry, everyone was pretty much a winner.
"I hope you and your fiancee enjoy Malibu," Summer said to Lock.
"Thanks. We're looking forward to it," said Lock.
"You're an adorable couple," she added.
Lock smiled to himself. "I know. I'm a lucky man."
THE END
About the Author
To research the Ryan Lock series of thrillers, Sean Black has trained as a bodyguard with former members of the Royal Military Police’s specialist close protection unit, spent time inside America’s most dangerous maximum security prison, Pelican Bay Supermax in California, and undergone desert survival training in Arizona. A graduate of Columbia University in New York, he also holds a degree in Politics and Economics from Oxford University, England. The Ryan Lock books have been translated into Dutch, German and Russian, with a Spanish translation of the latest book in the series, The Devil's Bounty, scheduled for 2013, from the translator of The Kite Runner.
For more information on Sean Black and his books, see his website at www.seanblackbooks.com
Also available for Kindle in the United States
LOCKDOWN: THE FIRST RYAN LOCK NOVEL
DEADLOCK: THE SECOND RYAN LOCK NOVEL
GRIDLOCK: THE THIRD RYAN LOCK NOVEL
THE DEVIL'S BOUNTY: THE FOURTH RYAN LOCK NOVEL
And in the United Kingdom from Bantam/Transworld
Lockdown
Deadlock
Gridlock
The Devil's Bounty
Copyright
Lock & Load is copyright © Sean Black 2012
Sean Black has asserted his right under under the Copyright, Designs and Patent Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Edited by Rebecca Cantrell.
Cover design by Joie Simmons.