Revenge School (A Pay Back Novel Book 1)

by Myles Knapp

  “Government doesn’t want info about the ceramic grenades getting out. So they’re trying to keep a lid on things, and won’t be releasing my name. But I’m sure somebody got pictures on their phones.”

  “Your face isn’t shown on YouTube.”

  “Lighting was lousy. We were right at the bulkhead, so any pictures would be mostly of my back. There’s nothing I can do to keep stuff from showing up on the Net.”

  “Did airport security say anything about what they’d do to prevent this from happening again?”

  “As I was leaving I heard some guy talking about making it illegal for passengers to bring pens on planes.”

  Chase nodded. “Ready to look at the videos?”

  “Sure.” Pay settled into his recliner while Chase connected a laptop to the plasma.

  “Drives from Mary Ellen’s and Richards don’t seem to be anything. We’re still working on them. This is the most interesting one and it came from Centerfolds.”

  The video opened with a title that read; ‘Myron Baker 415-555-1732. 500 California St. Suite 3500-B2.’

  “Figured out how they got his info?”

  “After a while he goes to the toilet and leaves his coat hanging on a hook in the booth. She finds his wallet, takes a business card, but doesn’t touch the credit cards or cash.”

  The video started with Duncan pushing aside a curtain covering the entrance to a private dancing booth. A well-dressed mid-forties male followed him in, glancing at the burgundy velour walls and dingy red vinyl bench.

  Minutes later, Mary Ellen enters; dark hair curled behind her neck and over one shoulder, the end just barely covering her right breast.

  In the background, techno pop blared as the DJ exhorted the audience to “spread the love around and be sure to tip our beautiful dancers!” Thankfully, the recorder was rigged so when anyone in the booth spoke, the music faded out. Mary Ellen turned on a thousand-watt smile, aiming it at Baker. “Hi, my name’s Destiny. What’s yours?”

  “Mike. Nice to meet you Destiny.”

  Pay hit the pause button. “Started lying from the very beginning. Any idea why?”

  “Nope.”

  On the video Destiny was helping Baker out of his overcoat. She mugged and swooned while stroking her cheek with a sleeve. “Hugo Boss cashmere. Oooh, my.”

  Pay shot Chase a questioning glance.

  “Brooke says the coat is worth at least two grand.”

  Destiny smiled some more. “Mike, most guys who walk in the door want to chill. Sit back, watch the girls dance, but Rock tells me you’re different.”

  “Tonight I just want to party.”

  “Well Mike, how about you put some money in the motor and we get started.”

  Baker pulled cash from his wallet. “Here’s $200. I gave Bozo the doorman plenty to cover him and the booth. He’s out getting drinks. I hope you like martinis.”

  Mary Ellen’s back was to Baker so he didn’t see her frown at the mention of martinis. “Boy Mikey, you know how to get my attention. So, hon, what’s got you so hot tonight?”

  “My girlfriend’s husband is waiting for me outside. And I hear he’s one mean son-of-a-bitch.”

  “Oops!”

  “Tell me about it. The only thing saving me is he’s a devout Muslim.”

  “Leaves him between a rock and a hard place, doesn’t it?”

  “It’s a sin for him to come in here.”

  “So how can I help?”

  “Let’s party. I’m hoping he’ll get tired of standing out there in the cold, and leave.”

  “You came to the right girl. Relaxing, drinking, and entertaining handsome men is what I’m all about.”

  The music wound down and the announcer wound up, to a decibel level just slightly louder than the space shuttle blasting off. “Let’s hear it for Tiffany on the main stage and Brittany in the lounge room. Look at those moves. What a show! And believe it or not, gentlemen, we’re just getting started. Throw some money on that stage. It’s time to reward our beautiful ladies.”

  Mary Ellen was dancing slowly, still mostly clothed, when a male voice caused the music to mute. It was Rock. “I’m here with your Belvedere.”

  “Come on in.”

  “Here’s your bottle.”

  Destiny grabbed the bottle and squealed, “Belvy! My favorite! I’ll go get glasses.” She darted through the curtain.

  Baker handed Rock some cash. “Here’s your hundred. I need your help with something else. When you were outside, did you see a guy in a turban hanging around?”

  “I just hustled out to get your supplies.”

  “Trust me, there’s a guy out there. He’s Middle Eastern, about five-foot-ten, 150, maybe 160 pounds. Last time I saw him he was wearing a light green turban and a tan jacket. I want you to watch him and tell me when he leaves. Got it?”

  Destiny entered with an ice bucket, shaker, olives and glasses. Shoving Rock out the curtained doorway, Destiny crooked her finger at Baker. “It’s Silver Bullet time! Party Time, Mikey! Party Time!”

  Pay glanced at Chase. “I think we better talk to Rock about Mr. Baker. Anything else happen?”

  Chase pushed the fast forward button. “She dances some, they talk a little, and both drink a bunch of martinis. You can’t tell at this speed, but she’s pouring herself mostly water and him 100% vodka.” He pushed play and the video returned to normal speed.

  Baker was loosening up. “Destiny darlin’,” he slurred.

  Pay smiled. “Guy’s on his way to stinking drunk.”

  “Yes, Mikey.”

  “Coul’ you check wi’ Rock an’ see if the husband is still hangin’ round?”

  “Sure, hon. Rock is usually right out front. Just give me a minute.” She picked up her skirt, buttoned her blouse, and slid out through the curtain. A few minutes later she reappeared. “I couldn’t find Rock. He’s probably doing rounds.”

  “Listen, honey. I’d love to stay here and party with you all night.” Baker was still upright, but barely.

  “I’d luv that, too. You’re my man.”

  “But I’m starting to run out of cash.”

  Mary Ellen smiled her biggest smile; a smile that promised any man unimagined bliss. “How about we hit the ATM?”

  “In a minute. But…I’m wondering?”

  “Yes, angel?”

  “When it’s time to go, if the husband is still hanging around does this place have a back exit?”

  “We have a side door.”

  “That won’t work. I saw it when I was in the john. The door just opens out about twenty-feet from the main door. I’d be walking right into the guy.”

  “The dancers have kind of a secret exit.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Sometimes we get creeps in here. The kind of guys who follow a girl around the club pawing at her and won’t leave her alone, even when the bouncers tell him to back off. Last week a jerk jumped me coming out of the ladies room and nearly scared me to death. When something like that happens, girls sneak out the back.”

  “Can you get me out that way?”

  “I’m not sure. The door’s in the dancers’ dressing room all the way at the back, hidden in one of the changing stalls.”

  “That shouldn’t be so hard.”

  “No guys are allowed in the dressing room. Ever. The girls are very picky about that.”

  “Huh? Everyone’s already seen ‘em naked.”

  “Mikey, honey, the dressing room is the only place where we’re safe from grabby bouncers and freebie-wanting owners. Even dealers and husbands can’t go in there.”

  “Damn.”

  “Let me think about it a little, baby. Maybe I can figure out a way. Let’s hit the ATM.” Mary Ellen turned up the wattage on her smile. “Then I’ll make us another marti or two.”

/>   “Ok. Hard to imagine anything better than sharing another martini with a charming, beautiful woman like you.”

  Chase skipped the video ahead. “Nothing much happens for a while, but near the end it gets kind of interesting.”

  “Honey?” Baker was stinking drunk and stumbling over even simple words.

  “Yes, Mikey.”

  “I gotta go.”

  “Can’t you stay a little while longer, Mikey? Puhleeeze?”

  “Darling, I’m just about outta cash.”

  Pay looked at Chase. “Bet she drops him like a hot rock.”

  But he was wrong. “You’re such a great guy. And you’re pretty high. Stay here and hang out for a while. You’ll feel better.”

  “Really gotta go, but not out the front door. I’m afraid of that guy.”

  “Maybe I can bribe the girls into letting you use the private exit. Gonna cost, though.”

  “How much you think?”

  “It’s still pretty early. Probably only three…four girls in there right now. I’d guess fifty bucks a girl. So it’ll probably take $150-$200.”

  “Here’s my last hundred.”

  “Sweety, that won’t be enough.”

  “It’s all I got.”

  “Let’s hit the ATM again.”

  Pay grinned at Chase. “She’s really working him. Think it’ll actually cost her anything to sneak him out the back door?”

  “I bet the other girls will settle for the last of the Belvedere.”

  “We maxed it out last time, babe.”

  Destiny giggled. Even drinking watered-down martinis, she was getting tipsy. “Oh yeah. I forgot.”

  “Need to get out of here.”

  “Maybe I can get the girls to go for a hundred and the rest of the vodka?”

  “OK. Please help me get out of here. I’m way too drunk to deal with that husband.”

  “He sure does want to sneak out the back door, doesn’t he?” said Chase.

  “Any idea why?”

  “I’ve watched it all. Other than the husband, there isn’t a clue.”

  “Guess we’re just going to have to ask him.”

  “Be a good idea to talk to Rock again, too.”

  “Sounds like a plan to me.”

  CHAPTER 42

  Nine-thirty Friday morning Richard parked near the address Brooke had given him. A mirrored front door opened onto a vestibule with two doors. The left one read ‘Classes.’ The right one was locked.

  The door to the classes opened on a good-sized gym full of exercise equipment. There were boxing bags and weight lifting machines. Midway down the left wall was a selection of what looked like theater props: a residential front door, a car chassis, and a small kitchen. On the right wall was a rack of mannequins and three skeletons. A locked glass case displayed knives, pistols, rifles and other weapons Richard didn’t recognize.

  Everything at the rear of the room was padded except the ceiling. A pit bull rested on the padded floor next to a German shepherd with a guide dog harness. In a folding chair beside the shepherd sat a middle-aged woman wearing dark glasses and shapeless gray sweats with the Revenge School logo on the chest. She was so small her feet didn’t touch the floor.

  The woman looked in his direction. “I’m Peggy, today’s instructor. What’s your name and why are you here?”

  “Richard. And I’m here because Brooke and Pay told me to come.”

  “Welcome, Richard. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

  “Where are Pay and Brooke, and the rest of the students?”

  “Pay and Brooke don’t teach the beginner’s classes.”

  “Why not?”

  “Beginning students generally believe that big guys like Pay can easily take care of themselves. They have a hard time believing Pay would ever have trouble handling a problem.”

  “I guess I can see that. What about Brooke?”

  “She’s in charge of some of the later classes.”

  “Then, why you?”

  “I’m a little person. I’m middle-aged. I’m a woman. And I’m legally blind. Students figure if I can use our techniques to protect myself, then they can probably use them, too.”

  “OK. Where’s the rest of the class?”

  “We don’t start until ten so they’ll be here in about twenty minutes. We wanted you here a little early.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you are a client, not just a student. Your training will be more intensive, more customized and, depending on your own personal reaction time and skills, your experience could be more painful.”

  “Boy, that doesn’t sound so good.”

  “The way I understand it you’ve got some major personal challenges to overcome.”

  “Well, I’m not a small, legally blind, middle-aged female.”

  “Yes, but you’ve been robbed by someone you can identify and done nothing about it.”

  Richard dropped his eyes and focused on his shoes. “That’s true.”

  “But someone you know was nearly beaten to death in your home and you want to do something about that. In order to do that, we’re going to have to toughen and smarten you up.”

  “I think I’m smart enough.”

  “You are probably book or business smart, but not smart in the way you need to be to protect yourself. First, we’re going to teach you how to get even with the backpack thief. That won’t be a problem.”

  “What will be a problem?”

  “The risk goes up when you start dealing with violent criminals, like the one who beat up your friend. Our risk goes up, too. It’s going to be a while before you are ready to take him on.”

  The front door swung open and a young, very slight Asian girl entered carrying a gym bag, with a fistful of keys protruding from the fingers of her free hand. Her torn Levi’s and dark blue sweatshirt could have come from the kid’s section of Goodwill.

  Four adults wearing loose clothes followed her in. Richard thought they all looked like he felt; Determined. But anxious and a little scared.

  The girl tossed the keys into a bowl by the door. “Hi, Peggy, who’s the guy?”

  “Richard, meet my assistant Amy, and the rest of your class. Our lesson will begin in about five minutes, but before we start I’d like to brief you on the rules and what to expect. We are all here for different reasons. Your personal motivations are private, so whatever brought you here is no one else’s business. We strongly encourage you not to ask. People can and will share if they want to.”

  Richard looked around and immediately wondered what had brought the other students to this place.

  Peggy picked up a hunting knife and slung it across the room where it stuck quivering in a target embedded in the wall. “You are all here because you have a strong desire to be able to protect yourself. Most of you have been wronged, or fear you will be. That is all you need to know about each other.”

  Richard realized the cute blonde girl across the room was staring at him. He turned away and concentrated on Peggy.

  Amy picked up the lecture. “Peggy is legally blind. You should have figured this out without me telling you. The dark glasses, white cane and dog, are all clues. Awareness of your surroundings is important. You will learn to watch for signs of danger and take action before you become a victim. It is important you understand our philosophy. In order to protect yourself, you need to be able to react quickly when surprised, angry, upset, scared, or injured. You can’t learn to fight from lectures; you learn to win fights by fighting. We will trick you. We will torment you. We will surprise you. Fights aren’t fair, and if you are to survive, we can’t be either.”

  “Amy, has everyone signed their waivers?”

  “All the paperwork is complete.”

  “And everyone understands that they will get hurt during this progra
m?”

  The group murmured a quiet, “Yes.”

  A plump brunette woman stuck her hand up. “How badly can we get hurt?”

  “Hopefully nothing worse than strains and bruises. At worst, broken bones or loose teeth. So pay attention. The first step in self-defense is avoiding fights. But even with careful preparation, you can’t always avoid them. And sometimes you will want to win one that you could have avoided. All fights quickly dissolve into chaos with weapons, screams, blood and pain. You’ve got to learn to control your reactions in order to protect yourself. And you’ve got to learn to harness your inner animal to survive.”

  Peggy stood. “Ok group, it’s time for your first lesson. Richard, you have thirty seconds to hit me as hard as you can. If you don’t hurt me in less than thirty seconds, Amy will tase you.”

  “But…you’re blind. And a woman.”

  “Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself. Worry about you.”

  “Where do you want me to hit you?”

  “Wherever you think it will do the most damage.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, I’m sure. Twenty seconds.”

  “But I’ll hurt you.”

  “It’s a fight. That’s the idea. One of us will surely get hurt. Your primary concern needs to be protecting yourself. Fifteen seconds.”

  Richard stumbled into a slow circle around Peggy. It had to be some kind of a trick. They couldn’t really want him to hit a blind woman.

  Peggy put down her cane. Her hands were empty.

  The dogs perked to attention, as Amy approached from his right waving a Taser.

  Taking a shallow breath, he balled up his fist and rushed Peggy. Screams exploded from the ceiling. The German shepherd charged at Richard, with the pit bull right on its ass.

  Peggy reached in her pocket and pulled out a can of pepper spray, zapping Richard’s face. The shepherd crashed into his back, slamming his face into the padded floor. Tears streamed from his eyes. Blood dripped from his nose. Richard fought to stand, but with the Shepherd on his back and the pit bull tearing at his pants’ cuffs, he couldn’t get his feet back under him.

  Peggy grabbed his hair and yanked, twisting his head up off the floor. “Finish him, Max! Finish him!”