New Story - again written exclusively on Steemit - WiP - Bouncer Part 34

This story is evolving with a pace all its own. I'm listening to the feedback and if something resonates, I've decided that I'll go with it (thanks @kiwideb). Feel free to give feedback on characters, storylines etc - even if you think it's harsh.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24, Part 25, Part 26, part 27, Part 28, Part 29, Part 30 Part 31 Part 32

Pictures from Google free to use search

Please note: This is the FIRST DRAFT, no editing, written straight onto paper. I don't know how to highlight that any more than it is. I'll NOT be making any alterations to what's already been written. As a good friend and excellent author has said, First draft is a race to get the story down before it decides to stop telling itself to you. Thanks Glenn. @alienbutt

76 pages, 30,140 words so far.

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Zack stood behind Viktor with a grimace on his face. He had been hoping the lads’ nicknames wouldn’t crop up in conversation.

Never mind. Viktor was in a good mood, despite the pressure of the first night of his club.

He kissed Liz again and went off to the VIP room which was still swathed in secrecy.

Zack sent off his ‘team leaders’ – the guys that Viktor had just met. They all knew their places in the club and the other doormen they’d have in their team – three lads to each team leader. Joe had his own team and they acted as ‘floaters’ – ‘floating’ around the club, always on the move. The most presentable and articulate of the teams so they could interact with the clientele with ease.

The strategy would be put to the test on a night that shouldn’t prove too strenuous. If it didn’t work on the pre-opening night, when every guest had been hand-picked and therefore, no surprises in store, then they had chance to swap the strategy around. Plan ‘B’ as it had ingeniously been named.

Joe and his team went around the club, checking the fire doors were all accessible and not chained, they checked the toilets that there were no surprises (interlopers or sabotage).

“Zack, Taylor, you got a minute?” Joe said.

Zack went straight onto alert. That was the phrase they’d agreed would be used in case of a ‘situation’ – some unexpected event that needed his intervention.

“Yeah, where are you?” Zack said into his mic, keeping his voice neutral. He didn’t want Liz, Anthony or Viktor listening in and realising they had problems so early on – even before the doors opened!

“We’re by the lower-floor toilets,” Joe said.

Taylor and Zack made their way to the area Joe had mentioned, not knowing what to expect.

Two of Joe’s team stood outside the toilets, the female ones. Zack went in with Taylor following.

Joe stood with a young woman. He held a camera and she stood glaring at him. Joe’s other team member held her arm, preventing her from escaping.

Zack looked around. He spotted where she’d got in – an open window, barely large enough to allow her access. By the looks of things, she would have had to dismantle her camera to get it through the window.

“Agile little monkey are you?” Zack said.

“Yeah, and she’s nasty with it,” Joe said. “You might want to clip those claws before you think about coming back for your camera.”

Joe turned his head and showed Zack the reason for his advice. During the struggle, the girl had swiped at Joe’s face. He had three lines of raw skin along his jawline.

She stood defiant and silent.

“That’s assault, I’m afraid,” Zack said in an icy-cold tone. “Call the police, I want her arrested.”

Taylor nodded and turned away from the group. He spoke into his own mic and asked for the police to be called.

“Unfortunately, by the looks of it, the camera got broken in the struggle,” Zack said.

“It’s not fucking broken!” the girl said, her fists clenching as she tried to jerk her arm out of Joe’s team-mate’s grip.

“No?” Zack said. He took the camera from Joe and turned it in his hands. Zack dismantled the camera and removed the memory cards. “This is a nice piece of kit. Who let you in?”

“The window was open,” she said, giving a cocky smile.

Zack nodded. He pocketed the lens and continued to study the camera. “That’s the lens broken. What’s next, I wonder?”

“The lens isn’t broken…” she said and then she stopped talking. She thought about her predicament for a moment or two.

“The police are here. They’re waiting at the side doors,” Taylor said. He held his mic so the conversation could be heard remotely.

“Come back for your camera tomorrow and it won’t be broken. If you kick up a fuss or I see you here later, the camera will be smashed to pieces in front of you,” Zack said. “Next time you want a photo opportunity, you ring up and book an appointment. The manager isn’t an ogre and she may just want to give a young photographer an opportunity. Think about that. Now, before I hand you over to the police, who let you in?”

Zack studied the girl. She wore ragged, but fashionable jeans, expensive skater boots and her hair had been styled to look carefree and untidy. The camera was worth a good few grand, maybe ten, and the lens was expensive. She was either a spoiled rich brat who had everything handed on a plate, or she worked hard at her profession. Her answer would tell Zack which it was.

“How about you give me back my camera and lens – undamaged, I go round the club all evening taking pictures which I then hand over to your manager, who isn’t an ogre, and she chooses as many pictures as she wants for publicity purposes and gives me a fair fee for my night’s work?” the girl said, loud enough for the person listening in to hear clearly.

The girl waited. She didn’t say anything more.

Liz arrived at the toilets and without a word, beckoned the girl to follow her. She turned on her heel and the girl, Zack and Taylor followed.

“Get that scratch sorted before you go back out,” Zack said to Joe. “I’ll let you know how this turns out.”

“Right Zack,” Joe said and went to get the scratches cleaned and dressed.