New Story - again written exclusively on Steemit - WiP - Bouncer Part 10

I started a new story to share on Steemit. It's not my usual type of tale, but I decided it has legs so I'm going to let it run.

Meet Zack, my newest character. I hope you like him.

The first part was written a few weeks ago and since then, I've been mulling it over in my head where the story needs to go.

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Part 9

Pictures from Google free to use search

Please note: This is the FIRST DRAFT, no editing, written straight onto paper.

Sorry for missing yesterday's episode. Here's a longer part to make up for it.

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Mikhail called Zack and asked if he would go in to work a little early.

The pub part of the premises was already open and starting to serve punters.

“They start drinking early, don’t they?” Zack said to the barmaid as he passed where she stood stacking glasses.

She smiled at Zack. “They’re already part-tanked by the time the doors open. Either starting at home or never really stopping is my guess,” she said.

She nodded towards a couple of older fellas sitting at the end of the bar in silence, leaning on their forearms.

They didn’t look dressed to go clubbing later – and even if they did want to, Zack’s team would refuse them entry because their clothes were not up to scratch. Baggy, stained t-shirts, tracksuit bottoms that looked like they doubled as pyjamas, running shoes that had never seen a track. Tired, dirty baseball caps made up their ‘uniform’.

Zack nodded and left the bar, heading for the office. The door marked PRIVATE stood ajar and Zack pushed it open and went up the stairs to the Boss’s office.

Zack went in through the empty outer-office and knocked on the door to the inner-sanctum.

He could see Mikhail and his goons inside but he waited to be called in. No point treading on toes at this stage of the game.

Minutes passed.

Zack would have been impatient if it had been any other door he waited at. He knew Mikhail’s stratagem and he wasn’t rising to the bait.

“Come!” Mikhail called at last.

Zack opened the door and went in. The two goons were leaning against furniture, but not quite as relaxed as usual.

“Evening, Boss,” he said.

“Good evening, Zack. Two more nights until you leave us, no?” Mikhail said. He didn’t wait for an answer and Zack didn’t offer one.

Mikhail placed his hand on a page of A4 paper and spun it around on the desk. To Zack, the move looked smooth and practiced.

“I want you to sign this document, Zack. It’s just a formality,” he said, waving his hand to dismiss it as not important.

“OK, Boss,” Zack said, taking the paper from the desk.

Zack read the document carefully. He took his time and read a few paragraphs twice. He looked up at Mikhail, he held a pen in his hand, waiting for Zack to take it and sign the paper.

“I’m not signing this, Boss, sorry.”

“And why not?” Mikhail said, the ‘why’ sounding like ‘vhy’.

“Why?” Zack said. “Because if I sign this, I’ll be putting my new business in shackles before it even gets its first client, that’s why.” He resisted the impulse to mimic Mikhail’s ‘vhy’ and risk the wrath of the man.

“This is the kind of document you should have asked me to sign when I started working for you, not just as I’m about to leave your employ to set up a business that I’ve been open and above-board with you about.”

Zack handed the paper back to his boss but the man sat with his elbows on his desk, his fingers passing the pen back and forth.

“Sign the paper, Zack or you may as well go home,” Mikhail said, his voice quiet and full of menace.

The two goons stood up a little straighter and closed in behind Zack a shade.

Zack sighed. He reached into his pocket as though searching for his own pen.

He straightened up and stepped back from the desk, out of reach of the boss-man.

Keeping the goons spaced equally, standing just out of reach, Zack kept his eyes on the two while speaking to Mikhail.

“I’m not signing that paper. I guess I’ll be going home then,” he said. Then he directed his words to the goons. “You don’t want to do this, lads. Just take a moment to think about it.”

He shoved the piece of paper into the pocket of his coat and lifted his hands in a placatory manner.

“Right lads, there are two of you, three including Mikhail. I’m obviously out-numbered. I don’t want any trouble, but I am prepared to defend myself. Do you agree with that statement?” Zack said in a calm voice.

“Yeah, I’d agree with you. You’re outnumbered and out-classed. Sign the fucking paper,” the bigger of the goons growled.

“I’m not signing the paper that says I agree to conduct my business outside of a fifteen-mile radius. That would be career suicide. I’m not signing any paper that says I agree to not contact people I’ve worked with. The guys were friends before they came to work here. I brought most of them in because they’re trustworthy and reliable,” Zack said. “I’m warning you once more. Don’t do this, lads. I’ll defend myself if you attack me.”

“You’re warning me, Zack? Me?” the smaller goon said. “You know I’ve been boxing. I can take you. Sign the fucking paper and then fuck off home.”

“I’m not signing it and I’ll walk out of here unmolested or I’ll defend myself to the best of my ability. Final warning,” Zack said.

Something in his tone, a self-assuredness perhaps, alerted Mikhail a split-second too late.

The words, “No, leave him!” landed on deaf, adrenaline-fuelled ears.

The goons went for Zack. The bigger one tried to grab him in a bear-hug. Zack slipped under and around his reach and kicked out to the side, catching the boxer under the chin for an immediate knock-out.

The big guy wasn’t as nimble as Zack and he dodged his reach again, swiping the goon’s legs from under him. As the goon went down with a surprised shout, Zack punched his exposed jaw and that was two out for the count.

Zack kept his eye on the floored goons and glared at his ex-boss. “You owe me my wages,” he said. “I’ll take it in cash, with a bonus for time-served.”

Mikhail nodded and reached for his wallet.

Zack shook his head. “Open your jacket first,” he said. Mikhail opened his jacket and Zack reached over and removed the wallet. He dropped the wallet onto the desk. “I’m no thief, you take the money out.”

Mikhail counted out three nights' wages, looked at Zack and counted out a few more notes. He handed the wad to Zack.

“Nice doing business with you, Boss,” he said. “Now a word of warning for you. Send those goons after me again and I’ll come after you personally. I would rather have left on good terms, but you wanted to make an issue of it. Remember that.”

“You have all this on tape, I guess,” Mikhail said.

Zack opened his own jacket as he stepped over the unconscious goons. “That’s right, Mikhail. I’ll be making a copy and sending it to my lawyer. I think that’s all I’ll need to do. Am I right?”

Mikhail nodded.

“For the tape, Mikhail, please.”

“Yes, Zack, you’re right. This needs to go no further.”

“I sincerely fucking hope not,” Zack said and left the office.