Mercer fled from the Excelsior Ballroom, even his henchmen lingering only long enough to cover their boss’s escape before joining him.
Much to Roxy’s surprise, though, their retreat didn’t lead back to the bridge, as they expected, but down to the hold instead. Something about that bothered her even more than the fact he seemed to be expecting something from the other pirates, and whatever just happened topside clearly wasn’t what he had in mind. For now, the best she could hope for on that front was that Max and Justin were on it, because she was beginning to suspect that they would have their own hands full down here, whatever Mercer was up to.
He led them on a merry chase all the way down to the lowest deck level, where Striker’s crew hadn’t even started to unload before she crashed their party. Along the way, their enemies scarcely bothered with more than a token of return fire, instead relying on the increasingly obvious fact that they already knew where they were going. And made all haste, with a desperation that felt too much like Last Resort material to her for comfort.
Far afield from their own home base, but a location where Mercer’s patrols had frequently interfered with their own recon, despite it being still farther from the bridge than the staterooms, thus they still lacked anywhere near a full inventory of what all Mercer was smuggling.
In the cramped corridor, Mercer’s men finally turned and put up a fight, holding the doorway to a section full of crates.
“Hold them off until we’re ready!…” they heard Mercer order them, also hearing what sounded like him prying open a crate.
“What now?” Shades wondered aloud as they retreated back around the corner.
“I still have one more smoke grenade left,” Roxy whispered, “and I’ll need an opening to use it before he does whatever he came to do.”
“Dammit! Where is it!” Mercer screeched in unvarnished frustration. “Don’t let her through!”
“Come on, Shades,” Maximilian said as he stepped up, “we need to give her an opening.”
“Do you hear me!?” Mercer screamed, at them, they at first mistakenly believed, until he continued: “Do you!? If any of you bitches are still listening, we’re coming for you, just as soon as we’re through with the brat and that bounty hunter! You’re all dead, mark my words!…”
“Now!” Maximilian shouted over Mercer’s escalating litany of threats and curses.
He and Shades threw themselves out across the deck, firing prone from the floor plane to con-found the enemy’s aim as they poured energy beams into the doorway, forcing them back inside.
With as clear an opening as she was going to get, Roxy dashed out into the corridor, lobbing the smoke bomb deep into their end of the hold as she could, and kept on running, even as her flanks belatedly ceased fire.
Even before the smokescreen started, Mercer’s men panicked, bolting from the entrance at the sight of the unknown projectile, the bounty hunter catching them both off-guard before either of them could even figure out where to aim, falling upon them with a brutal barrage of knees and fists, as Shades and Maximilian scrambled back to their feet to back her up.
“Mercer!” Maximilian roared, barging past the beatdown at the door, charging into the growing cloud of smoke, hearing someone scuffling behind some crates to the right.
Completely overlooking the last of Mercer’s crew hiding behind some crates to the left, popping up to fire in his general direction before the thick haze completely obscured his target.
Fortunately, Shades was hot on Maximilian’s heels, spotting the threat and jumping him with one of his stun-sticks before he could track his target, the pirate having no idea what hit him.
The hold section turned out to be a bit bigger than the bounty hunter estimated, and the smokescreen was thinning out faster than any of them expected, Mercer stumbling into a clear patch, brandishing a small box.
“Don’t come any closer!” Mercer coughed, holding the box out in front of him as Maximilian followed him out of the drifting smoke. “I’ll blow the hull out from under us and send us all to the bottom!”
“He’s bluffing,” Roxy stated as she strolled in, having rolled through both of his sentries.
“Oh yeah! See if I am, bitch!” Mercer shouted. “I’ve got enough explosives to kill us all if you don’t drop your weapons right now!”
The smoke thinning still more as it spread out the door.
“Your pirate friends backstabbed you,” Roxy continued, unfazed. “They not only tried to sabotage the sails so they could leverage everyone with the engine room, but they also switched out your explosives for other cargo, didn’t they?”
Maximilian turned to examine the contents of the crates their foe was scrounging through only moments ago.
“Don’t you dare!” Mercer thundered, shaking the detonator at him. “If you even try to fuck with my bomb, I’ll end it right now!”
“Then do it already,” Roxy goaded him. “You can’t, can you? That’s why you don’t want him to look.”
She nodded to Maximilian, who returned her stern gaze before stepping over and peering inside the nearest crate.
“Dammit…” Mercer tossed the useless detonator aside, reaching to draw his power pistol—
But Maximilian was quicker, springing at him even as Roxy halted her own draw with a half-uttered curse, the Young Master nailing him with a hard right.
“This is my ship!”
Followed by a left hook.
“My friends!”
Punctuated by another right.
“My path!”
Staggering Mercer with a left jab.
“My life!”
Ending with an uppercut that sent him sprawling.
“And I’m taking it back!”
Mercer’s cap fluttered to the deck as he hit the ground. Maximilian picked it up, dusted it off, and put it on.
“Spoken like a true captain,” Roxy remarked, stepping in to search Mercer and bind him, whipping out and slapping on a pair of severe-looking handcuffs from her belt pouch.
“Are you guys alright?” Max demanded as he and Justin rushed into the chamber.
“Yeah…” Maximilian finally shook out his stinging hand, now that Mercer’s back was turned. “Everything’s under control down here. How about topside?”
Max gave the Young Master the V, and Shades seconded the motion.
Meanwhile, as Roxy was turning her prisoner around, Shades walked over to one of the unopened cargo stacks and made a rude slash at the top crate with one of his energy blades, popping it open with the butt of the grip.
And Mercer flinched visibly.
Shades had no idea precisely what to expect, but the brace of compact power rifles didn’t surprise him too terribly at this point.
“You deal in some interesting cargo, Mr Mercer…”
“God…” he muttered at last, “at least you didn’t get the one with the explosives.”
Justin glared at both of them at that last.
“Surprise, surprise,” Roxy crowed. “Contrabands.”
“What’s with the weird plural?” Shades asked. “After all, isn’t it all contraband?”
“Yes,” Roxy explained, “but in the black market, models like this are called ‘Contrabands’ because they’re designed to fold down into a compact space. There’re entire bootleg industries out there that make most of their money back-engineering and cranking out knock-offs of New Cali tech, especially Camcron designs.”
“You don’t say,” Shades remarked.
“Well, duh,” Justin pointed out, “I bet Slash was probably smuggling some of these back in the Triangle State!”
Roxy gave him an odd look for a moment, but Max piped up before she could say anything.
“There’s still one more thing left up top,” he said, realizing one detail he forgot about their engagement up there. “There’s still someone on the bridge.”
“There’s still a lot left to do,” the bounty hunter agreed grimly, bringing their attention back to more pressing matters than wherever Mercer’s goods originated, “but you’re right about taking back the helm. We’re not out of this yet.”
Author's Chapter Notes:
endgame
