Runaway ✔

065 • Happy

The three of them watched the cage fight from a distance. They were in a dim hole, breathing in more cigarette smoke than oxygen. They hadn't found their man yet. His home address was their back-up plan, but Happy preferred this place over the man's house. It was a mess here anyway, they didn't need to pay attention to their finger prints. 

After watching a few rounds they took a bet too. Some people had asked if he was interested in joining the fight too, but Happy had answered with a sniff. He wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty, tonight however he had other plans. There was only one person whose blood he wanted to see. For that to happen, they needed to find the guy first without catching anyone's attention. If they would move around like a bunch of crazy pigs they would be thrown out immediately. 

Chibs hovered over to him. "Think he's up there." The Scot talked to him without taking his eyes off the match. 

Happy looked up. The cloud of smoke was so thick he hadn't realized there was a gallery. The place wasn't lit, but in the corner he indeed distinguished a shady figure. The thing that stood out most, was the glowing end of a cigarette.

"Might be."

"Ya want me to take a look?" Tig suggested.

Happy thought about it for a while. Whoever was sitting there clearly wasn't a regular visitor. But it could also be a guard, somebody who was looking for people like them, people who were here for dubious reasons.

"Fine," he said eventually. "Be subtle. Go fuck a bitch, with some money ya pass the guard on the stairs easily."

Tig took a look inside his pocket, noted he had enough money and squirreled through the crowd, up to the scantily dressed women who were clearly hoping to earn some money tonight as well. 

Happy focused on the fight again, and bowed towards Chibs. "We've bet on who?"

"The bald one, I think."

Happy nodded. Not that he cared much. Nobody could conclude from his face if he was happy or angry about something. He lit a cigarette, slid one hand into his pocket and watched how the bald one punched the other – a beaner with slicked back hair – on the temple. The man faltered backwards, hit the bars of the cage and got a knee in his stomach. He bent over, spitted out gobs of blood, and just when the bald one wanted to hit him again, he suddenly threw himself forward and tried to bring the other down to the ground. 

💀

By the time Tig joined them again, he was grinning from ear to ear. He hadn't used the girl just to get to the gallery. 

"It's our guy," he said. "Two guard dogs on his side."

"Good. Any other stair?"

"On the other side. Can't reach it from here."

Happy nodded. "Gonna find out how to get there." He walked outside and breathed in the clean air. When he was sure nobody was around, he gave Juice a call. 

"Got a blueprint of the building?" he asked when the kid answered. 

"In a sec."

Happy suppressed an impatient grunt, but pacified when he heard Juice's rattling on the keyboard. For a moment he'd been afraid the guy hadn't even been close to his laptop, but apparently his little sister hadn't fucked up all of his brain. 

"Need to find the stair that ain't leading to the hall."

A few quick clicks followed. "I'll send the image."

Happy disconnected and a second later there was an image on his cellphone with the building schematic of the club. By moving his thumb and index finger away from each other he zoomed in so he could distinguish the different rooms. The other stair terminated in quite a large room that was accessible from the hallway. A conference room, he suspected, business had to be discussed somewhere and the other rooms were much smaller. He'd seen a couple entering one of the other rooms and guessed the guy was running a small brothel as well. It was a good thing they hadn't started to invade the rooms, that would have attracted too much attention.

Happy went inside again and pushed down the door handle of the room he'd been looking for. It was open. He sneaked inside and looked around. There was a suite with comfortable couches. He sat down on one of them, his face toward the stair and laid his gun on the armrest.

He sent Chibs a message about his whereabouts and waited patiently until their target came down, unaware of his visitor.