"Fingers Break Easily, Or What I Did On A Hiatus."

[jesse_ewiak 0]

I hate techno music.

 

Not because I think it's terrible music or I have some sort of weird predjuice against those who preform it, but for one simple reason...it means if I hear it, I'm stuck in a club. A club, where I'm mostly likely not there for the reasons most people are there. I don't drink, don't use drugs, and don't have the time to hook up with anybody when I'm there.

 

Of course, when you've just left a wrestling federation on a eight-week leave of absence and only told a temp as you walked out the door of the arena, a good reason is always helpful. Well, the good reason's name is Allison and she's the reason I'm here.

 

Not because I know her, or even have talked with her before, but there's this weird honor thing I have going on.

 

Gets me into all sorts of trouble.

 

Like, walking out of your job because an old friend calls you up and tells you his sixteen year old neice has gone missing. So who does he call? No, not the police or FBI because the sick fucks who did this already threatened him, so he gets a hold of me. How do we know each other? Let's just say it was a while ago, when I still thought I could make a _real_ difference.

 

That of course is done now, but I could never turn down a true friend. Well that, and I was in the area anyway. Miami, Florida. South Beach. Lil' Havana. All the fun of a banana republic with the added bonus of corrupt police.

 

I've been traveling idiot #1 and idiot #2 over in the corner there in the really overpriced suits and slicked back hair thinking their in The Sopranos or something. Idiot #3 is by the bathroom door, his gun just about showing, not that it matters. After all, this place looks D.C. look clean.

 

Speaking of which...

 

"Hey pal, are you going to nurse that drink all night or going to actually buy something else?"

 

God, how I hate bartenders. I hand him a fifty, and tell him not to bother me for the rest of the night. I check the scene again, only three obvious goombahs, which is pretty light when you've got a kidnapped teenaged girl at a dance club, where there's only seventy six girls who look the same. Not that I mind them making this easier.

 

As Doorwatcher attempts to chat up a brunette who's fifteen if shes a day, I begin to make my commotion. Heading for the wannabee gangsta dealer, I begin Operation Save Girl and Screw With a Dealer in The Process.

 

"Hey man, what you want?" says the white kid as he pulls out something from his pocket. He never sees my left foot swinging around and hitting his temple, knocking him down to the ground, gone to the world.

 

That brings his muscle immediate, and well...they fall pretty quick to a throat strike and a combo kick which makes one of them hold their knee like it just gave out. Now, I'm really attracting attention as a few club kids go after the scattered drugs and I go 'running' heading toward for the front door (and the bathroom.)

 

Doorwatcher, who's been watching me head toward him for a few seconds finally draws out his weapon. I knock him to ground with a slightly modified Yazuka Kick before the modified semiauto is out of his jacket. It falls to the floor, and through a miracle, the safety was actually on and I don't have to avoid bullets flying around like a bad cop show.

 

At this point, all hell has broken loose and I see several large bouncers heading my way. Thankfully, their path is blocked by hysterical customers heading for the door, including the bathrooms emptying. That's when I see her.

 

Deep blue eyes, red hair, soft face of an angel. I simply call out her _real_ name, and she goes rigid in surprise. I continue by telling her to run as I boogie, with dumb and dumber rising from their table to chase after us.

 

They never have a chance as fight + weapons draqing + large crowd = chaos. We slip out through a side entrance, dragging the girl more than anything else as we slide into the rented SUV. I ask a gruff, "are you OK?" which she nods as I pull out into the street.

 

After a few moments where it seems the coast is clear, I turn to her. She's still shaking.

 

"Don't worry, we'll get ya' back home in a couple days here. The accomodations won't be the Hilton, but they'll work."

 

Still shaking.

 

"What's wrong?"

 

"Th-th-ey told me if I ran, they - they - they'd find me and se-se-sell me to the first street gang they saw who could buy me as their wh - wh - wh...."

 

Deep breaths, David. Kill the fury while its still small. The girls here, you can find them later.

 

"Don't worry about it, Alli. I got their names, faces, everything but what their favorite color is. They'll be taken care of by time we get home."

 

"What about my dad?"

"He's a little out of it, but he'll be a happy SOB when he sees his lil' girl."

"Ya' know, I didn't mean to do this. The guy online -"

"You don't need to defend yourself to me. It happens to the best of us."

 

A flash of nearly a decade ago. You'll take care of that too, David. Now's not the time to dwell on the past.

 

"Who are you, anyway? I don't remember seeing you ever with my father."

 

I pause for a moment...then tell the truth.

 

"You can call me a fallen angel."

 

With that, the road continues on. It's a thirty hour drive back home, and the girl's already asleep. I still got miles to go, and things to take care off. Old friends...old enemies.

[King Cucaracha 0]

People who do things are cool by me. Welcome back.

[Toxxic 0]

Weird... but rather cool.