Part Four
Nine o'clock. Too early for the club to be open. At least clubs like Deluxe. Deluxe caters to the upscale crowd, the late-night, all night partyer with more money than free time. Like most clubs in this area of downtown, a modest yet distinguished front matched with an elegant and over-the-top interior. Assuming you got that far.
Closed or not, it made little difference. People like Jono lived at the club; a place for business, socializing, and entertainment. He'd be there right now, likely in an office in the back of the club. A bouncer was stationed outside, a bonus which made it possible for me to try and talk my way inside. Security would be tight and surveillance would be plentiful which made breaking and entering all the less feasible. No sense in raising alarms early; sneaking around blindly isn't exactly my forte. Besides what little information Lara gave me, I had nothing to go on and no answers as to why I was involved. Yet. They'd come if I handled this properly.
I parked my car down the street which allowed me ample time to survey the outside of the club while walking. I had changed clothes, something more suitable to downtown, opting for a loose fitting black suit sans tie; the looseness covering the slight bulge of the silenced pistol in my waistband. I also put on a nice pair of dress shoes, choosing functionality over appearance. The extra thick rubber soles would quiet my footsteps should surprise be required. It was dark out and the bright lights of the sidewalk made it hard to see into the void of the side alleys. Attempting to get inside peacefully through the front entrance was the only viable option I had at this point. Any conflict would have me fighting blind, an unknown number of security officers with the ability overwhelm me. That's a chance I couldn't take.
The bouncer shifts his weight as I approach, tensing his body and preparing for the unexpected. The cable protruding from his ear tells me that he's wired to the inside, possibly even to Jono himself. Although not overly large, the bouncer had height and was obviously no stranger to action. It wouldn't do to set him off; the chances of me being able to overtake him before he radioed for help were slim. Nothing left to do but act professional. As I draw nearer, his gaze intensifies as my intention becomes clear.
"The club is closed. Come back later."
"I need to speak with Jono. Is he inside?"
"I don't know any Jono. Now get out of here and come back when we're open."
I had to play a tricky card here. It was the only way I was going to get inside but if the ploy failed, I wouldn't be able to walk away peacefully. "I bring a message from Lara. She told me to come here and deliver it to Jono."
His demeanor grew grim as he gives me the once-over again with his eyes. The name obviously struck a chord but whether it was good or bad I had yet to know. "Hang on," he mutters. He raises his hand to his earpiece and presses a button. "This is Frank. I got some guy out here that says he has a message from Lara." Seconds pass as the reply is echoed across the wire. "I see. Right away." A muted buzz is heard and the door clicks shortly after. "Ok, you can go inside. Jono's office is in the back of the club. Ask the bartender to point you in the right direction." He opens the front door and I slip inside.
The interior of Club Deluxe was every bit as extravagant as I had heard it to be, an elegant playground for those who were rich enough to afford it. The most prominent feature was the abundance of private, luxurious booths in place of the standard, open tables that you'd find most everywhere else. The bar, which I'm sure served up more than alcohol on popular nights, was fully stocked and stretched the length of the longest visible wall. The bartender was behind the bar attempting to look busy but it was how he went about it that revealed his true objective. He was watching me without making it appear so, and doing a horrible job at it. He had already been informed that I was coming to see Jono. Security was, to my amazement, non-existant though whether that was by design or mistake I didn't know.
I approached the bar and the bartender tilts his head silently in the direction of an adjacent hallway. There is no sense in wasting time with pointless conversation. At the end of the hallway stood two security guards who would look out of place anywhere except a football field. As I approach, they fan out as well as they can in the narrow hallway, one taking up position in front of me and the other moving around behind. Without so much as a word, the one behind me grabs my arms and lifts them up while the one in front begins to pat me down. So much for going in armed. After removing the silenced steel I was carrying, the grip on my arms is released and the door ahead of me opens.
The office was just about as you'd expect it to be, an ornate desk centered in the room and a number of expensive chairs scattered about. A small personal bar to the side of the room was the only other decoration; an additional side door remained closed. A man was seated behind the desk, his eyes staring at me intently, and I could only presume this to be Jono. He was older than I expected, perhaps in his sixties, and rail thin, certainly not much of a fighter. Then again, he had security for that purpose. The two guards escorted me into the room and the man behind the desk gestured for me to have a seat in one of the chairs. The two guards took up post behind me, one on the left and one on the right.
"My men tell me that you have a message for me. A message from Lara. And you are?"
"Smith." I didn't want to tip my hand quite yet. There was no way I could be sure whether Jono knew why I was really there or who I really was. Not to mention that I felt naked without a weapon.
"Yes, of course. Smith. I find it odd that Lara would have you deliver a message to me. We rarely spoke, only when required you understand, and it was largely a one-way flow of information. I can't imagine what she would possibly want to tell me."
"The message I have from her concerns DeVane. She needs to reach him."
Jono's eyes narrowed and he shifted his position to hide the fact that his whole body grew tense. I knew I had misspoke, that I had just given away a lot more than I should have. I heard the bodyguards shift behind me but refused to turn around and see what they were up to.
"Let us not play games you and I," Jono declared angrily. "Lara has been dead for a number of hours, her body found by one of her security detail; a portion of her brain involved in the redecoration of her apartment. Do you think me so stupid as to invite you in here and not know who you are?"
I knew that I had to tread carefully here or this would be one meeting that I wasn't going to be able to walk away from. "I need to know why DeVane wants me, what he wants from me. I need to know why I am involved."
"You are so foolish Randy. There is no DeVane. He doesn't exist. It's a codephrase that was invented to force you to reveal yourself to whomever you talked to. The fact that Lara gave up my name is a little disconcerting but you managed to save us the trouble of killing her later. The truth is, I am no more important in this game that we play than she was. I may have been next on your hitlist but, unfortunately for you, your list ends here. You made a mistake coming to find me."
Jono's eyes quickly glanced behind me, a signal being given to the security personnel. In less than a second, the butt of my own gun crashed against my temple and darkness came. This wasn't exactly what I intended.
As I groggily became aware of myself an unknown amount of time later, I was being half carried, half dragged down a concrete hallway. A large door was pushed open and the sounds of water drops filled my ears, the smell of garbage filling my nose. I was being dragged outside, to an alley of some sort. It must have started raining while I was inside. A few seconds later, the grips on me loosened and I was tossed to the ground; the cool, wet cement a nice change to my throbbing temple.
"Let's get this over with and get back inside."
The sound of feet shuffling mixed in with the raindrops. It's hard to concentrate, to pull myself together. The world is spinning and I just want to sleep, to close my eyes and make the pain go away. The rustling of fabric and the click of a clip being loaded. It was time. This was the end. No one imagines their life ending in a wet alley at someone else's hand. But then again, how often does one imagine their life ending? A series of quick clicks follows, the sound of a round being loaded into the chamber as the slide on the gun is pulled back and returned. All I could do is lay there and wait for it to be over. One last click is all I needed, the sound of the trigger being pulled. Soon. I'll just close my eyes and wait.
To be continued...
Nine o'clock. Too early for the club to be open. At least clubs like Deluxe. Deluxe caters to the upscale crowd, the late-night, all night partyer with more money than free time. Like most clubs in this area of downtown, a modest yet distinguished front matched with an elegant and over-the-top interior. Assuming you got that far.
Closed or not, it made little difference. People like Jono lived at the club; a place for business, socializing, and entertainment. He'd be there right now, likely in an office in the back of the club. A bouncer was stationed outside, a bonus which made it possible for me to try and talk my way inside. Security would be tight and surveillance would be plentiful which made breaking and entering all the less feasible. No sense in raising alarms early; sneaking around blindly isn't exactly my forte. Besides what little information Lara gave me, I had nothing to go on and no answers as to why I was involved. Yet. They'd come if I handled this properly.
I parked my car down the street which allowed me ample time to survey the outside of the club while walking. I had changed clothes, something more suitable to downtown, opting for a loose fitting black suit sans tie; the looseness covering the slight bulge of the silenced pistol in my waistband. I also put on a nice pair of dress shoes, choosing functionality over appearance. The extra thick rubber soles would quiet my footsteps should surprise be required. It was dark out and the bright lights of the sidewalk made it hard to see into the void of the side alleys. Attempting to get inside peacefully through the front entrance was the only viable option I had at this point. Any conflict would have me fighting blind, an unknown number of security officers with the ability overwhelm me. That's a chance I couldn't take.
The bouncer shifts his weight as I approach, tensing his body and preparing for the unexpected. The cable protruding from his ear tells me that he's wired to the inside, possibly even to Jono himself. Although not overly large, the bouncer had height and was obviously no stranger to action. It wouldn't do to set him off; the chances of me being able to overtake him before he radioed for help were slim. Nothing left to do but act professional. As I draw nearer, his gaze intensifies as my intention becomes clear.
"The club is closed. Come back later."
"I need to speak with Jono. Is he inside?"
"I don't know any Jono. Now get out of here and come back when we're open."
I had to play a tricky card here. It was the only way I was going to get inside but if the ploy failed, I wouldn't be able to walk away peacefully. "I bring a message from Lara. She told me to come here and deliver it to Jono."
His demeanor grew grim as he gives me the once-over again with his eyes. The name obviously struck a chord but whether it was good or bad I had yet to know. "Hang on," he mutters. He raises his hand to his earpiece and presses a button. "This is Frank. I got some guy out here that says he has a message from Lara." Seconds pass as the reply is echoed across the wire. "I see. Right away." A muted buzz is heard and the door clicks shortly after. "Ok, you can go inside. Jono's office is in the back of the club. Ask the bartender to point you in the right direction." He opens the front door and I slip inside.
The interior of Club Deluxe was every bit as extravagant as I had heard it to be, an elegant playground for those who were rich enough to afford it. The most prominent feature was the abundance of private, luxurious booths in place of the standard, open tables that you'd find most everywhere else. The bar, which I'm sure served up more than alcohol on popular nights, was fully stocked and stretched the length of the longest visible wall. The bartender was behind the bar attempting to look busy but it was how he went about it that revealed his true objective. He was watching me without making it appear so, and doing a horrible job at it. He had already been informed that I was coming to see Jono. Security was, to my amazement, non-existant though whether that was by design or mistake I didn't know.
I approached the bar and the bartender tilts his head silently in the direction of an adjacent hallway. There is no sense in wasting time with pointless conversation. At the end of the hallway stood two security guards who would look out of place anywhere except a football field. As I approach, they fan out as well as they can in the narrow hallway, one taking up position in front of me and the other moving around behind. Without so much as a word, the one behind me grabs my arms and lifts them up while the one in front begins to pat me down. So much for going in armed. After removing the silenced steel I was carrying, the grip on my arms is released and the door ahead of me opens.
The office was just about as you'd expect it to be, an ornate desk centered in the room and a number of expensive chairs scattered about. A small personal bar to the side of the room was the only other decoration; an additional side door remained closed. A man was seated behind the desk, his eyes staring at me intently, and I could only presume this to be Jono. He was older than I expected, perhaps in his sixties, and rail thin, certainly not much of a fighter. Then again, he had security for that purpose. The two guards escorted me into the room and the man behind the desk gestured for me to have a seat in one of the chairs. The two guards took up post behind me, one on the left and one on the right.
"My men tell me that you have a message for me. A message from Lara. And you are?"
"Smith." I didn't want to tip my hand quite yet. There was no way I could be sure whether Jono knew why I was really there or who I really was. Not to mention that I felt naked without a weapon.
"Yes, of course. Smith. I find it odd that Lara would have you deliver a message to me. We rarely spoke, only when required you understand, and it was largely a one-way flow of information. I can't imagine what she would possibly want to tell me."
"The message I have from her concerns DeVane. She needs to reach him."
Jono's eyes narrowed and he shifted his position to hide the fact that his whole body grew tense. I knew I had misspoke, that I had just given away a lot more than I should have. I heard the bodyguards shift behind me but refused to turn around and see what they were up to.
"Let us not play games you and I," Jono declared angrily. "Lara has been dead for a number of hours, her body found by one of her security detail; a portion of her brain involved in the redecoration of her apartment. Do you think me so stupid as to invite you in here and not know who you are?"
I knew that I had to tread carefully here or this would be one meeting that I wasn't going to be able to walk away from. "I need to know why DeVane wants me, what he wants from me. I need to know why I am involved."
"You are so foolish Randy. There is no DeVane. He doesn't exist. It's a codephrase that was invented to force you to reveal yourself to whomever you talked to. The fact that Lara gave up my name is a little disconcerting but you managed to save us the trouble of killing her later. The truth is, I am no more important in this game that we play than she was. I may have been next on your hitlist but, unfortunately for you, your list ends here. You made a mistake coming to find me."
Jono's eyes quickly glanced behind me, a signal being given to the security personnel. In less than a second, the butt of my own gun crashed against my temple and darkness came. This wasn't exactly what I intended.
As I groggily became aware of myself an unknown amount of time later, I was being half carried, half dragged down a concrete hallway. A large door was pushed open and the sounds of water drops filled my ears, the smell of garbage filling my nose. I was being dragged outside, to an alley of some sort. It must have started raining while I was inside. A few seconds later, the grips on me loosened and I was tossed to the ground; the cool, wet cement a nice change to my throbbing temple.
"Let's get this over with and get back inside."
The sound of feet shuffling mixed in with the raindrops. It's hard to concentrate, to pull myself together. The world is spinning and I just want to sleep, to close my eyes and make the pain go away. The rustling of fabric and the click of a clip being loaded. It was time. This was the end. No one imagines their life ending in a wet alley at someone else's hand. But then again, how often does one imagine their life ending? A series of quick clicks follows, the sound of a round being loaded into the chamber as the slide on the gun is pulled back and returned. All I could do is lay there and wait for it to be over. One last click is all I needed, the sound of the trigger being pulled. Soon. I'll just close my eyes and wait.
To be continued...