EIGHTEEN

The Marino Club more than lived up to its hype. Each of the five floors had its own themed dancefloor and bar area, each one playing a different style of music. There was something there to suit everyone, provided they liked to dance and drink.

Sierra and his three hombres sat in the bar area on the very top floor of the club. They were seated around a small table, a bottle of tequila being shared around amongst them.

Vincent poured himself a glass as the bottle reached him, swallowing it in a single gulp. He grinned as he passed the bottle along to Sierra. “Go on, Sierra, show us how a Guerrero handles a few stiff drinks.”

Even though Sierra did his best to decline the offer, the others were having none of it. Eventually he caved to peer pressure, pouring himself a shot and then downing it. “Keep them coming!” he howled, mimicking Vincent and slamming his glass down on the table. Apparently it was the cool thing to do.

After the group had gone through their first bottle, Esteban quickly ordered over another. When it arrived he decided to stand up and offer a toast. He poured a drink for everyone then held up his glass high.

“To our amigos,” Esteban said, his words noticeably slurred with a mixture of drunkenness and emotion. “Both to those who are still here with us today… and those who were not so lucky.”

The other all three rose to their feet with their glasses raised. They drank as one and held a moment of silence for their fallen comrades.

After they had finished and sat back down, Sierra looked out across the bar area and saw her again; that same woman in the cut-off red dress from outside. She was alone at the bar now, rummaging through her purse. He watched her closely. His mind told him that he should try approaching her, but nerves were holding him back.

“I say go for it, Sierra,” Vincent grinned, following Sierra’s eyes to the source of his distraction. He reached into his coat and took out some change, sliding it across the table to Sierra. “At least pay for her drink. Show her you’re not a cheap-arse like Marco.”

“Suck on a bag full of dicks, Vincent!” Marco growled at him.

Sierra turned to Vincent, shaking his head. “I don’t think I should.”

“Come on, show us your moves, Guerrero,” Esteban joined in too. “Don’t be a pussy.”

For a second Sierra considered just laughing them off, but then he shrugged and picked up the change. The alcohol had given him some courage, and he was not about to waste it. He figured he was in a new city now; a new world. He did not need to be afraid anymore. Nobody here even knew who he was.

“Thanks, Vincent,” Sierra smiled and stood up.

“Hey, don’t thank me until you get some action,” Vincent winked.

“And after you get laid, don’t forget to tell us how she was,” Esteban added with chuckle.

Sierra made his way over to the bar, half walking and half stumbling. Only now did he realise just how drunk he was. He hadn’t downed so much alcohol since… ever. He was just about to take the stool right beside the woman, but then he stopped himself at the last moment and remembered his manners.

“Excuse me, is anybody using this?” he asked her politely, pointing to the stool next to her.

“No, you’re welcome to it,” the woman smiled at him, then her eyes shifted back down at her purse, searching for some cash as the girl at the bar slid her a drink across the counter.

“Allow me,” Sierra passed the bar girl some money.

The woman in the red dress smiled to him in appreciation.

“My name is Sierra, by they way,” he said as naturally as he could manage, which he hoped sounded a lot more natural than it felt. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Hi, Sierra,” her smile widened. “I’m Tara. It’s nice to meet you too.”

Back at the table, Vincent and Esteban exchanged a quick high five. As far as they could tell, their friend was in.

***

“That’s them going in now!”

Kirby Kosta watched on as Kenji Kojima arrived on the scene in his black limousine. The young Kojima heir and his entourage were escorted inside the club.

“Okay,” Kosta turned serious, checking his ammunition one last time. “The prey has arrived. Let’s be doing this shit!”

***

“Hey, Kenji!” Meyoko Kojima waved out across the club to her brother as he entered. She was standing there swaying with Sakura and two other female friends out on the dance floor; all of them were nicely dressed up for the occasion.

Kenji prodded Ryu gently in the ribs to get his attention and pointed out the women to him. They both waved back in unison.

After leading his entourage over towards the bar, Kenji took a seat at a table. The others all shuffled in around him. A barmaid quickly came over to see if they wanted to order anything.

“Good evening, Mr Kojima,” the barmaid said. “Would you or any of your friends care for a drink?”

“That’s what we’re here for,” Kenji winked across to Ryu. “I tell you what, how about you start by bringing us two bottles of your finest Japanese sake. I’m feeling a touch cliché tonight.”

Once the barmaid was gone, Kenji turned back to Ryu. “Well, are you going to make your move?” he nodded in the direction of the dance floor, over at Meyoko. “I’m still waiting for you to show me you have some balls.”

Ryu’s eyes followed his friend’s, and then the breath left him. Meyoko looked beautiful, for lack of a stronger word in Ryu’s vocabulary. Her hair was out, her red extension streaks still tied through it. She was wearing a dark, sleeveless dress — smooth black silk coiled around her torso from the chest down, strands of grey running through the tight fabric around her legs. She kept glancing over in Ryu’s direction, as though she could tell he was watching her.

“Well?” Kenji prodded his friend for an answer. “That wasn’t meant to be a brain teaser. Yes or no?”

Ryu could feel his heart beginning to hammer in his chest. He turned back to his friend with a raised eyebrow. “I should be asking you that same question, about Sakura, Kenji.”

Kenji glanced back over to the dance floor, where Sakura was moving to the rhythm of the music in a skin-tight yellow dress. “Oh, don’t you worry about me, Ryu, I know what I’m doing.”

“Then shouldn’t you be out there right now working your charm? You know, before someone else tries to take your girl home for the night?”

“Yes, and I’ll get to that soon enough. But right now I’m just… waiting to try some sake first.”

“Great minds think alike,” Ryu laughed, slapping his friend on the back. “I could use a few more glasses of courage myself.”

Soon after, two bottles of sake arrived at the table and Kenji and Ryu had gotten stuck right in to them.

“Alright, Ryu, we’re up,” Kenji nodded to his friend when they were done, patting him on the shoulder. “Come on, I’ll show you how it’s done.”

...

Across the club, with their weapons concealed underneath their long pale trench coats, Kirby Kosta and his Haitian hit-squad had just entered. Their drug-glazed eyes scanned around the area, searching for their prey. It did not take long to spot them. Kenji Kojima and one of his colleagues were making their way out from the bar section, heading towards the dance-floor while the rest of the Kojima entourage remained around the bar. That just left the whereabouts of one of their primary targets in question: Meyoko Kojima.

“Don’t be starting nothing until you see the girl,” Kosta said to the others sternly, his eyes scanning over the crowd out on the dance floor. “Remember, we’re supposed to kill them all.”

Kosta turned back to one of his colleagues, who was armed with a concealed shotgun. “Samuel, you wait over by the elevators.” He turned then to his other shotgun-weilding accomplice. “Charles, you go park your unwiped arse over there by the stairs. No matter what happens, I don’t be wanting any of these kochon yo escaping, got it? We do this right and Lacroix has promised me a promotion, so shoot whoever the fuck you have to… as long as it’s not me!”

Both gunmen nodded obediently.

Kosta stepped forward, motioning for his other two men to follow him. “You two, keep your eyes open and your dicks dry. Don’t get impatient; as soon as we find the girl, we be painting this whole fucking place red!”

...

Ryu took a deep breath, trying to calm himself as he glided across the dance floor alongside Kenji.

There was something special about Meyoko that drew him to her whenever he laid eyes on her. Sure, Ryu had felt a burning desire for many women before, but never had his interest grown beyond a phase of rather impulsive lust. He was now in unfamiliar territory; with Meyoko the feelings ran much deeper. He had known her since they were children and he had always felt a special kind of warmth in her presence. An urge to bond, to hold, to love. Ryu was usually so calm and confident when he approached a woman, but around Meyoko he always got so jittery and nervous, often to the point where he could hardly string two words together.

Moving towards Meyoko, Ryu could suddenly feel himself getting caught up in the same gentle rhythm as her, swaying in time to the music. Ryu brushed away from Kenji, edging straight past Sakura to present himself to Meyoko. A trickle of sweat ran down the side of his face as he reached her. Her back was turned to him at first, which made things harder than they should have been. Ryu took another deep breath, wiped the sweat from his face, but then he froze up. No, this wasn’t right; his throat suddenly felt so tight. He knew he had to say something to her, but he wasn’t sure what that was exactly.

He bit down into his lip, frantically weighing up his options, trying to regain some of his composure. To hell with this, just go with it, you fucking pussy! He slowly angled his way around her, allowing himself to brush softly against her body, causing her to turn into him. Suddenly her sparkling eyes were staring straight back into his.

“Hi, Meyoko,” Ryu said softly, still not entirely sure of himself.

Meyoko pretended to act surprised at first. “Oh, Ryu is that you? Wow, you look so different all dressed up.”

“Mind if I join you?” he asked.

“Well, if you insist.”

They both began to move their bodies to the music, smiling at one another, neither saying a word. Then they slowly came together. Their bodies brushed against each other, their faces only inches apart.

“You look beautiful tonight,” Ryu moved in closer, whispering into her ear over the throbbing beat of the music.

“Well, thank you,” Meyoko ran her eyes over him. “I must say, you’re looking quite… grown-up tonight yourself.” She reached up into his hair and stroked his jade-green headband. “Well, apart from this thing…”

“Baby steps, Meyoko,” Ryu smiled. “Baby steps.”

...

Meanwhile, Kenji was taking a far more cavalier approach than his friend. He worked his dance moves as he nudged his way through the crowd, pushing himself right in close to Sakura.

“Sakura-dono, fancy meeting you here,” Kenji said as soon as he had caught her eye. “Having a good time tonight in my club, I trust?”

“Oh, Kenji?” Sakura looked at him with a hint of uncertainty in her eyes, her body suddenly turning as rigid as a fence post. “What are you doing out here?”

“Well, I just saw a lovely woman out here in a yellow dress and I thought to myself that maybe she’d like a dance.”

Sakura allowed herself a smile.

“Perhaps she’d even permit me to buy her a drink,” Kenji said with a teasing wink.

“Oh, are you sure you want to blow your money on that?” Even though she was shy, Sakura did her best to play along.

“Nothing would give me greater pleasure.” Kenji paused, acting as though he was trying to choose his next words carefully, even though he had in fact been rehearsing what he was going to say all afternoon. “To tell you the truth, Sakura, my heart was taken the very first moment I laid eyes on you. And I’m not talking about tonight. Whatever happens, I’m just glad I’ve finally worked up the courage to tell you that.”

“That’s very sweet,” Sakura smiled again. “I’m flattered, really, I just… I really don’t know what else to say.”

Kenji winked again and extended his hand to her. “Well, you could say yes to a drink, for starters. Don’t worry, I can afford a few.”

Sakura smiled, but she still wasn’t comfortable holding Kenji’s eyes.

“Come on, you don’t want me to beg, do you?” Kenji joked. “I swear I’ll do it. Ask anyone, they’ll tell you I’m a good beggar; I’ll get down on my hands and knees and embarrass us both in my own club if I have to!”

Now Sakura was doing her best not to laugh. “You’re crazy.”

“Yeah.” He moved in closer. “Crazy for you.” He cringed as soon as he said it. That line was beyond terrible, but it seemed to have the desired effect.

“Okay,” Sakura’s smile brightened, even though she was clearly trying to hide it. “You can buy me that drink now if you really want to.”

With a howl and a cheer, Kenji took her hand and began leading her through the crowd back towards to the bar.

...

“You dance well, Ryu,” Meyoko laughed. “Especially for one of my brother’s friends.”

“Thanks,” Ryu grinned. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

Ryu took a deep breath as their first song together ended and they stood there waiting for another one to start up. “You know, Meyoko, there’s something I’ve wanted to say to you for a while...” He paused and quickly glanced over to Kenji, who had now started guiding Sakura over towards the bar. Then he turned and noticed that Meyoko’s two other friends had left the area too; they were heading straight for the exit with two young guys from the dance floor. Suddenly he started to feel a little bit more relaxed, surrounded only by strangers.

“I…” he began to say something, but somehow the right words would still not come out. Another song started playing.

Meyoko watched him closely. Her eyes were wide, her lips slightly parted. She had moved in so close to him now that he was burning up all over, his nerve-endings all receptive and tingling as they craved to brush up against her.

...

“There!” Kirby Kosta spotted Meyoko out on the dance floor; she was in close and dancing with one of Kenji’s men. He nodded back to his big, bald henchman with the wreath of barbed-wire. “Alright, Toto, that bitch and her lover-boy be all yours. Go and make me proud!”

“I won’t let you down, cap-i-tain,” Toto grinned and began pushing his way roughly out across the dance floor, his weapon still hidden under his long pale trench coat. His bloodshot eyes never once left his two targets as he made his approach.

“And you, Theo,” Kosta turned back to his other colleague, “you be staying with me.” He looked out across the club as Kenji began leading his yellow-dressed woman towards the bar. “Back me up, we’re going after Kenji Kojima.”

...

“Is something wrong, Ryu?” Meyoko giggled, amused by Ryu’s sudden inability to speak.

“Something on your mind? Somebody perhaps?”

Ryu swallowed nevously. “I’m sorry, Meyoko,” he paused again.

“Go on, just spit it out,” Meyoko held his eyes and gave him a cute little pout. “I promise I won’t laugh...”

“Meyoko, I…”

She closed her eyes and moved in, kissing him.

Her lips were soft like moist strawberries and they brought a rush of adrenaline shooting through Ryu’s body. He was breathless, but he had no wish to come up for air.

...

“Get the fuck out of my way, kochon yo,” the big Haitian called Toto snarled as he shoved his way roughly through the crowd on the dance floor. He received more than a few sour faces for his troubles, but he didn’t take any notice of them; he had his two targets locked dead in his sights now as they started kissing.

Toto smiled, his eyes like those of a hungry bull as he focussed on Meyoko Kojima. The dark barrel of his bulky AK-47 came up, the tip penetrating out from the crack in his pale trench coat. He lined up his prey, his right index finger slowly beginning to squeeze the trigger…

...

“What’s your poison?” Kenji turned across to Sakura as a barmaid came to the counter to serve them.

“Oh…” Sakura looked unsurely around the bar for a menu. “Um…”

“Mr Kojima?” an unfamiliar voice suddenly caught Kenji by surprise. He turned and found himself face-to-face with two dark-skinned, dreadlocked men. They were wearing matching pale trench coats, like they were part of a team. All at once alarm bells started to sound inside Kenji’s head, his body turning tense as he noticed the long bulks beneath their coats. “Yeah, I’m Mr Kojima. Who the fuck is asking?!”

“Me?” Kirby Kosta smiled, drawing his P90 submachine gun from under his coat. “I’m your fucking executioner!”

A moment later the entire Marino Club was ripped apart in a loud hail of gunfire.