Trapezoid (The Base)

Chapter 15

Levi could see the determination shining in the man's eyes. He had never encountered a blade in this way before. The guy was strong. He felt like he'd finally met his match. The guy had tried retracting to hit another part of him, but Levi had kept the blade's position for a reason. He could see the focus in the gangster's dark eyes. He was too concentrated on plunging down—his big mistake. Where had the guy's brains gone?

The guy reached forward and grabbed his throat, starting to squeeze. Instinctively, Levi's brain turned to survival. He needed to loosen the vice-grip. He needed to breathe! He wanted to focus on surviving the knife—but what could be more shameful than being strangled to death? His hands flew to try and loosen the grip.

He felt the man's grip tighten and felt himself start to panic once the tip of the blade met the skin of his shoulder. His lungs screamed for air as he stumbled back—the back of his upper leg hitting the edge of the desk. He tried prying the guy's fingers.

He never thought it was possible for one to see such evil mirrored in the eyes of a human.

"Have you said your prayers, Grey—if that's your name?"

Vance Hide.

Something jabbed his spine. The last thing he heard before his ears blocked off was the click of a loaded sidearm.

You need to breathe, Levi! His body screamed over and over. He frantically reached out for the guy's shoulders—maybe to at least try to push him away—or whatever! Consciousness was threatening to leave.

A force seemed to have swung him around. His body collapsed to the ground as soon as the thunderous shattering sound of a bullet leaving a gun's barrel shook the room.

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It seemed like Stevens had not left his apartment for days—well, that was how it appeared to Michael. He had installed a tracking device to the "tools he'd given the man. A week had passed since he was sent out. Maybe he thought he wouldn't need them and therefore left them in one of his bags. There was no way Levi Stevens had been sitting in front of the television set, surfing channels.

Michael knew the first leg of the whole thing was to catch Vance Hide, an escape convict, wanted in both the States and in the United Kingdom, who disappeared off the radar. He glanced at the clock on the wall above him. It would be evening in London.  A connection had informed them that Stevens had found the man and was on his way to "join" his gang. He felt a twinge of guilt for not feeling worried one bit. Curiosity was the only thing that majored in him. Could the man swim out of whatever raging water he got himself into?

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Sucking air into his thirsty lungs and coughing after the long denial, Levi tore off the hands on his throat, his would-be killer's weight pressing on him. What had happened? His mind starting to collect, he pushed the man's huge shoulders, making him roll onto the floor beside him.

"Don't move, sir," the British accented voice said just as Levi's upper body rose from the floor.

He cocked his head defiantly as he looked up at the sharply dressed man a feet or two from him. "Or what?"

The breathy laugh could have been sandpaper on Levi's raw nerves. Hide waved the barrel of the gun casually as he spoke. "Look here. You've inflicted quite a lot of pain around here," he said with mock hurt. "I only have two cheeks, not three—"

"So you shot your own man?"

"Please, don't interrupt," he said raising a finger.

What had he done? Of all of the guys in the room, he had no doubt the man in front of him was the most brutal of them all. Vance Hide was his main intention to get rid of—but he'd gotten his guy's instead. Now here he was—with a Glock leisurely aimed to his kneecap. He'd gotten nowhere. His rage had gotten him through four guys—but now he knew the fire would not get him out of this one.

"I must say, I have been surprised by the show you put up."

Levi grinned—almost stupidly. He wasn't going to let this scum know the true emotions that were surging through him. All he wanted to do right then was to rip the guy to shreds. But he felt frozen in place. He watched the barrel rise to his eye level. He involuntarily stiffened—but he refused to shut his eyes or look away.

The dangerous gleam in Hide's dark eyes complemented his malicious grin. "But as you know, every good thing must come to an end."

Levi glared into the dark tunnel of the barrel as his ears caught the click.

He took a deep breath, wanting to be ready but knowing full well he was not ready at all. He didn't want this—not now!

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In the seconds that all the emotions flashed on the face of the man before him, Vance basked in the glory of the man being under his mercy—mercy he would not give. He'd played tough to get, immovable. It seemed facades could only hold up for so long! He watched the emotions flashing across that handsome face—uncertainty, anger, frustration, fear. Fear!

The wheel had turned.

It felt good to have one's finger on a trigger.

Bang!

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"He's down." William had been about a block away—but it had been a perfect shot. He gave the guys a thumbs-up. Five men of the MI5 made no time storming into the "headquarters" of the late infamous Vance Hide. He had been one man doing heck a lot of dirty business around the city. This had been starting to get out of control. He'd even gone to the extent of going overseas to the States, catching the attention of the American guys. The assassin on various occasions, drug dealer, and the list grew, had finally earned enough demerits for death. He'd escaped that—until a few seconds ago.

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Levi couldn't trust himself to stand. He'd been sure his brains were the ones that would have been blown. But there on the floor lay the image of what he thought would be him—only it had fallen on the one who'd have done it. He'd seen plenty of ghastly sights, but he still felt near sick. Not just blood, but fragment were scattered and sprayed.

His eyes moved to the black figure still clutched in the fingers of the dead corpse. He'd escaped death.

Author's confession: Okay, I know very little about British Intelligence other than from what I've gleaned from books. *eyes downcast* Forgive me. Anyway, it's just the imagination, right? XD

You're opinions are welcome always.