by Blake Hudson
Knox shunted over, making room for the barmaid’s exquisitely lush arse, one she freely showed off as she bent over straight legged, placing the drinks down.
“Beer for you peaches, and bourbon on the rocks, for me.” She said looking back at Knox over her shoulder. What he wasn’t expecting was the evocative southern belle American accent, like sweet nectar to his ears.
“Thanks, Darlin’, my names Lucas. So, tell me, South Carolina or Georgia?” Knox held out his hand which was graciously received as she used it to guide herself down.
“Well aren’t you just a sweetie pie, I do like a well-mannered man. Susannah Mai be my name Sugar’ but you can call me Susie. And come on now sir, all the best girls hail from Georgia.” Her words dripped like syrup from a spoon.
“Well, I will toast to that,” Knox said clinking his glass to hers and taking a swig of his thirst-quenching lager, taking the edge off the muggy aired club.
“Tell me, Susie, how did a pretty southern Cherokee rose find herself here in sunny España?” Knox said knowing a Cherokee rose was Georgia's state flower and trying hard not to let his eyes stray down over the glistening skin and ample curves of her low-cut vest…well, at least he tried.
“My, my you do have a silver tongue. I see I’m gonna have to keep my eyes on you. Not that, that’s a hardship now.” she said making a provocative noise like she wanted to see if he tasted as good as he looked.
“Daddy, well, he’d be stationed at the Moron air base. He’s in high cotton up there. We moved out here when I was but a teen. I am all the family he has.” Susie’s smile dropped for a moment before taking a large sip of her bourbon. Knox knew when not to pry and promptly dropped the subject. Daddy issues didn’t really make for enjoyable conversation when trying to chat up a lass.
“Well I’m here for the sun, sea and great food, oh and not forgetting the drink.” He said shaking his glass before taking another swig.
“The weather here is good for my bones, not like back home.” Knox scanned the room checking on Mr Semi Pro and his twin.
“And where might home be? I can’t quite place that adorable accent of yours peaches.” Susie’s beaming smile returned bigger than ever.
“I grew up in West Scotland, a village not far from Fort William. In the shadow of Ben Nevis. It’s a quiet place, very different to here. My father was born and raised there, my mother, well let’s just say she wasn't." Knox laughed a little at the memory of his mother.
“Oh, do go on, you can’t leave a girl half-cocked," Susie said biting down on her lip, one he wanted to see being bitten for a different reason.
“My mother was from Londonderry Northern Island. And well I think if I had half her temper I would be a force to be reckoned with.” He smirked.
“Tell me Lucas darlin’, are they your mother’s eyes or your father’s?” Susie wasn’t shy in being forward putting her hand on his leg, and Knox found it fascinating.
"Maybe if you ever see my temper you could judge for yourself," Knox said as he leant in closer to Susie’s ear.
“You are a feisty one, I just love it. Listen honey pot I am only on my break, give me your cell.” Susie leant into his shoulder and looked up at him with her big brown eyes.
Knox thought for a moment and after not seeing an issue with it, he started to reel off his number.
“Hold your horse’s sweetie pie, hand over your cell I will never remember your number, bless your heart.” She slapped Knox’s leg before holding her hand out.
Knox pulled out his elemental budget phone and Susie eyed it with a smirk before saying,
“Shut my mouth! You are just the cutest with that thing, but you do know they come with screens bigger than your thumb nail, these days, don't you?" She teased. Knox was about to respond with a cocky reply when she leant in, pressing her ample breasts into his arm, he enjoyed the feel of her heat.
“Lucky for you I like a man with big hands and you can call me anytime darlin, I would love to get to know you a whole lot better.” Susie laughed as she entered her number under the name ‘Southern Belle xxx’.
And with that, she knocked back the last of her drink, blew a kiss good bye and headed off with a spring in her step back to the bar.
Knox thought of calling it a night whilst he was ahead, but just as he was about to stand, in she walked. With all the class and glamour Knox had become accustomed to seeing over the last few weeks, but tonight she was anything but.
The woman from the beach was wearing the cliché little black dress but taking it to a whole new level… a lower level that was, thanks to the plunging neck line that was almost down to her navel. Ruched fabric covered each breast with impossibly thin straps holding them in place on her shoulders. In fact, how she wasn’t flashing the club was beyond Knox’s knowledge.
Sky-high heels, completed the outfit that had her towering over her entourage of friends. But unlike her friends, she walked in those heels with poise and grace, like she was born wearing them. She led her group in a formation, like an aerial display team, to a roped off VIP area. It was clear this woman had the management eating out of her hand. Bottles of champagne on ice with dedicated waiting staff waiting to do her bidding, as this woman no doubt liked to party like a celebrity. For all Knox knew some of her friends may well be but he had zero interest in trash magazine, celebrity bull shit.
Knox now had two things to stew over, one more pressing than the other. Would the woman spot and recognise him? Back on the beach, their eyes had only locked for a moment in the small mirror, so thankfully, the chances were low. But still, Knox slunk into the dark corner a little more. The more pressing issue was Mr Semi Pro and his twin now stood flanking the VIP area. They didn’t escort the woman in when she arrived, or communicate with her in any way, so chances were, they weren’t her personal body guards.
Knox didn’t think they worked for the club management either, as they hadn’t interacted at all with the security staff who had patrolled the floor most of the night. Which begged the question, who the Hell were they? It just wasn’t adding up to Knox.
What had changed, and what else was she involved in? Knox couldn’t help but feel as though she was just a route to getting to someone else. But there was one thing he was sure on and that was that things were getting complicated fast.
Knox felt the call of nature and decided now was the perfect time to see if he was on their radar. Besides, the woman was surrounded by enough people that even Knox could be sure, now wouldn’t be when they made a move on her. He made his way to the men’s room subtly watching his back as he did.
Entering down a dark hallway, a colourfully dressed African man stood at the far end next to the door to the men’s room. There he stood with the usual little table of knock off aftershaves and spray on deodorants. A friendly enough fellow, smiling and nodding his head.
“All right smiles…” Knox said as he nodded, slapping the attendant on the shoulder.
For all the millions pumped into Malaga over the past few years, compliments of their Mayor Francisco de la Torres, they had left out upgrading the shamelessly vile toilets. Even if he was trying to push for his vision of turning the city into a cultural hub. The bathroom attendant is missing a trick as disinfectant on the way out would generate him bigger tips.
Knox did his business and washed his hands at the only working sink. Whilst doing so he hears the abrupt and rude tone of somebody speaking to the attendant.
“Get the fuck out of my way…” Knox ears pricked up as he watched the reflection of the door in the greasy mirror in front of him.
Knox reined in a smirk, as right on cue and like he suspected he would, in walked Mr Semi Pro’s twin. He scrutinised every inch of the room with a stern cold stare. Knox dropped his eyes a little and carried on washing his hands even though he was done.
The twin walked along the stalls checking no one was in them and Knox almost rolled his eyes...seriously, could this guy be any more obvious
. What did he want Knox to think exactly, that the asshole was just looking for toilet roll?
The hairs on Knox’s neck stood on end with an electric wave making his skin tingle. There was that gut feeling again. Knox turned off the tap, extended his left hand out to the side and pulled a sheet off the hand towel machine. Crunching the paper into a ball over and over, letting out a long breath…Knox simply waited for the first move, for his first mistake.
A flurry of movement triggered Knox’s senses, dropping the paper as he spun and side stepped to his right. The guy’s size twelve boot clattered through the cabinet under the sink. From the speed of his movement, Knox found himself with his back to the wall. He looked straight into the cold eyes of his surprised foe as he pulled on his stuck foot.
Knox pressed back into the wall and launched himself up and out, dummying a punch at twin’s head. The guy raised his arms to block Knox who pulled out of the punch at the last second. Then opting to grab the back of his adversary’s head before slamming it forward into the mirror. A loud smash of glass and a painful cry later and he was leaving a shattered crater in the mirror, one now decorated with cracks spanning the full length.
Still holding onto his head, Knox kicked down hard into the back of the guy’s knee, dropping him down like a sack of shit. He pulled him back once more and followed the action through, this time driving his face straight down into the sink, hitting him one more time for good measure.
“Who do you work for?” Knox demanded, hearing a depth to his voice he only reserved for controlled rage. He then let the dazed and confused opponent fall to the wet floor.
Knox opened the guy's jacket to reveal a Kramer Horizontal Shoulder Holster with double mag pouch. This guy was seriously packing, which begged the question, why didn’t he pull it on him? Knox reached for the pistol as two flailing arms pathetically tried to reach it before him. Knox hit him square in the nose, knocking his head hard onto the urine soaked tiles. Knox then pulled out a Springfield XDM.
“You’re not F.B.I mate… That's good, don't want them catching up with me.” Knox said knowing that their field agents were now issued with the Sig Sauer P320, moving away from the Glock 22 and 23.
Knox tucked the Springfield muzzle down in the back of his waist band and pocketed the two mags in his jacket.
"Finder's keeper mate…" Knox said patting the spark out Mr Semi Pro on the cheek.
Knox then stood up and just as he picked the guy up by the shoulders, two clubbers walked in joking and laughing about something in Spanish. Their faces dropped at the carnage in front of them.
“No problems guys, my friend here just slipped on his piss…shit Spanish, Knox. Sin problemas chicos se deslizó sobre su mear…” Knox said nodding his head repeatedly, wide eyed with a crazed gin.
“Si usted lo dice señor…” One of the Spanish clubbers muttered a rapid ‘If you say so’ as they both cautiously backed out of the room, bouncing off the door frame and walking into each other.
“Come on lad up ya’ get, you’re scaring the locals," Knox said, straining as he lifted the guy into a cubical, his dead weight landing with a hard thud. Even Knox winced, as that was most certainly going to throb in the morning.
He walked out of the toilets and Knox pulled out his wallet to count out fifty Euros. Notes in his hand he looked first to the attendant and then back over his shoulder towards the door he just walked through.
“Hell, of a mess in the cubical Smiles. For your time and for your trouble.” Knox counted fifty more Euros and put the bundle of notes into his silver tips tray.
Knox made his way back up the corridor pulling out his flip phone and hitting speed dial. Just as he heard the dial tone the door leading back into the club filled with a figure.
“Knox, Freeze! Put your hands in the air!” Barked Mr Semi Pro, who must have suspected his colleague was taking too long.
“Hands up Knox! I will put a cap in your knee, last warning.” The guy said, walking sure footed and progressively towards him. Knox lifted his hands and said nothing, locking eyes with the over confident gunman.
“Good, good now turn around and put your hands on your head. Slowly, slowly.” Semi Pro’s voices calmed down with an air of relief that told Knox that he was sure he was in control of the situation.
Knox did as he was instructed, his arms lifted exposing the Springfield tucked in his waist band. Knox then looked at a not so smiley African, who quickly grabs his money. Knox smirks and grants him a cocky wink.
“Is that my partners gun Knox!? Where is he? Is he alive? Knox! Answer me.” Knox said nothing even when he felt the cold blunt barrel end of a silencer pushed against the back of his clammy neck.
“Show me where he is, start walking you son of a bitch! Or I swear to God I will shoot you where you stand.” He demanded as he pulled his partners gun out of Knox’s combats.
“And you, don’t you fucking move! I’m watching you.” Semi Pro shouted over to the attendant.
Knox slowly started walking but still said nothing. With every step forward the pressure of the barrel on his neck didn’t let up. Smiles gave Knox the slightest of looks. As Knox got closer, blocking the gunman from seeing the attendant, Smiles looks down with his eyes, motioning to Knox to look at his hand. In it a spray bottle of breath freshener. Yep, that would do nicely Knox thought with a satisfied grin. He drew level with Smiles and stopped walking.
“I didn’t say stop! Keep walking. Walk!” He said as he struck Knox with the hilt of his gun. Knox fell to his knees and quickly grabbed the bottle from Smiles' hand, knowing he had to take the hit.
“Get up you girl! Did my partner soften you up? That was nothing! Get up, hands on your head.” The guy laughed as he grabbed Knox by the scruff of his jacket, pulling him up. But when Knox reached his full height he spun quickly and sprayed the bottle straight across his eyes, before ducking into a crouch and out of the way.
Three rapid thuds, each followed by a sharp ring as they sounded into the air, puncturing holes in the walls. But he fired off his weapon in vain as Knox just hooked his right arm up between Semi Pros legs in a swift motion tripping and flipping him up and taking him down hard. The asshole found himself face down, eyes burning and lungs struggling to inflate from the impact from one of Knox’s favourite wrestling moves…he swore that shit would never get old.
Knox stood on the guy’s wrist, his full weight making his shaking fingers span open. Knox kneeled pressing his other knee into the middle of Semi Pro's back just below the neck.
“Softened up enough for you lad? Who do you work for? Who sent you?” Knox said picking up the CZ P-09 and checking it over.
"Fuck you, Knox! I’m telling you nothing!” He said as he gasped for breath, wincing.
“Christ mate a P-09? 19 rounds plus one in the barrel, do you miss a lot?” Knox said as he mercilessly hit the back of the guy’s head, knocking him clean out.
“Thanks for the help friend, you really saved my bacon. It’s really…” Knox said as he stood up and turned to face Smiles pausing mid flow as he saw him.
Sat still as stone, Smiles slumped in his chair head resting back on the blood splatted wall.
“Ahh, shit.” Knox posture slumped as he shook his head walking over to Smiles.
“I'm sorry friend.” Knox's fingers stroked closed the lifeless glass eyes that were looking up at him, then he pocketed the 100 euros out of the tips tin.
Knox knew he had to get out of there and sharpish. Picking up the Springfield and tucking it away with the P-09. He then hit speed dial on the flip phone again. Calmly walking out of the corridor back into the booming club, passing the security on their way to the toilets the phone connected.
“It’s Knox, the heat is too hot. You need to call her in and now.” Knox said looking over at the woman dancing provocatively with some guy. Before Knox reached the exit the entourage around the woman all looked at their phones within moments of each other.
“Wel
l, that was efficient…” Knox said pushing through the doors and giving a nod to the redhead who now had sexy Susie to keep her company. Company who made the ‘phone me’ sign at him, letting him know that he would get to taste that company.
“English man! You! Stop!” A strong accented voice demanded of him, from the now lone doorman that had stopped him entering before.
“Got to go pal, see you later.” Replied Knox before feeling a heavy hand grab his shoulder.
“You go nowhere English man,” growled the doorman, Knox snapped.
In the blink of an eye, Knox grabbed the doorman's wrist, twisted it in a painful lock as he spun around to face his opponent. Knox swiftly kicked out, targeting the inside left knee of the doorman. The sound of snapping bone and tendons ricocheted off the buildings as the colossus buckled to the floor. This combined with his own weight broke his wrist when he dropped with a stomach twisting crunch on the ground.