This theme for club Etthica and the story was derived from a
short I wrote in one of my notebooks over 12 years ago. The main
character is the mix of several folks I know and the others are based
off people I have met in my life from so long ago. I just updated some
of the techniques the characters used to the 21st century and added a
few extra elements. However, the tone, theme ,and story line do remain
the same.
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Melvin Small was in the back alley of an old office building near
5th Street downtown. He wasn't alone. A small line of well dressed
people had formed at the only door in the alley with a neon red sign
saying only the name Etthica.
Melvin had been in
the club several times before on business of a professional level
always. As much as he worked he never had time to make the visit
personal. If he ever got the chance he may someday take a nice girl to
this place of sin. Just, not at the moment. The owner of the bar, Ms.
Savage had a huge crush on Melvin since he had been using the club as a
private meeting spot for clients. The huge noise and crowds usually
obscured any professional activity. Not that he was doing anything
illegal. Just that his clients liked a little anonymity.
For meeting his clients Melvin was wearing his Sunday best. Two piece
black tailored suit with ash gray open collared button up shirt. Under
it a level IIA ballistic vest custom cut to look like all he wore was an
undershirt. On his left wrist was a black on black Suunto Core. On his
right was a woven sage para-cord bracelet he had made while he was
overseas. His black boots had a mirror polish on them that anyone could
see their reflection in. The belt was a thick black leather range
officer's belt that could hold what could not be seen under the jacket.
Attached to his belt were several items. On his right hand side about at
the three o'clock position was a Zero Concealment Systems black Kydex
inside the pants holster. It held his Redrup Custom Shop Glock 19 loaded
with Dr. Packett's nastiest Love Potion #9 in plus P. Three spare
magazines were in the same ZCS brand holder at his nine o'clock under
his left arm. A Sig Sauer P238 Scorpion with the same custom loads in
an ankle holster. His left hip pocket held his keys and a SureFire
Backup 200 lumen fighting light. His right pocket a Emerson Karambit
combat folder sharpened to a razors edge along with his favorite Zippo
lighter given to him by a Chief of Police from a small town he lived in
years ago.
He wore all of this without have to
worry about getting checked at the door or at the gate. If you were a
VIP, and Melvin was, you would be given a password. A different one
every week. This password kept you from getting frisked at the door and
at the gate and allowed you to go to the front of the line with an
unlimited bar tab for clients. Only six such people enjoyed such a
privilege for a yearly fee. He was paid three years in advance in case
of slow times. Right now the door was being manned by a six foot five
inch Samoan dressed in all black who Melvin remembered was a former MMA
fighter and Navy Master at Arms. Very polite when you got him off the
clock and sat down with drinking a beer. However, at that door he was a
no nonsense machine. He had already turned two couples down ahead of
Melvin in line for drugs and weapons. Ms. Savage had a zero tolerance
narcotics policy. Weapons were allowed but just to a select few who she
knew was responsible enough not to cause trouble.
It was his turn next in the line. He could see up close that the
doorman had been at the gym very often and towered above Melvin by a
good eight inches. If he had to ever fight him he would have be dirty as
hell to beat him before getting hurt himself. Off course he always
fought dirty. Time is money and the longer you took gives someone better
odds of getting lucky. However, Melvin smiled and waited to be
acknowledged. The dark Samoan looked up from his Ipad VIP list not
giving one hint that he knew him.
"Password?" the doorman asked.
Melvin looked him in the eyes. And knew the answer immediately.
"English," Melvin replied.
The dark doorman checked his tablet over the weeks passwords and nodded.
"Your table has been reserved. However, your guests that you reserved
it for have not arrived yet. Ms. Savage would like to see you once you
come in. She will be at the bar she and I'll text her that you have
arrived."
With saying that he ushered Melvin into
the door and down a fifteen foot hallway. He did know that buried in the
walls was a scanner that looked for contraband. The latest technology
that the owner had "borrowed" from the Department of Homeland Security
and Transportation Safety Authority. They were not going to miss it
anytime soon from what Melvin understood. He also understood at the end
of this hallway was four heavily armed and skilled former Army Rangers
waiting for him if he had gotten anything he was not supposed to have
that far. The hallway was well lit for security's sake. There was no way
to go except in or out. A smart person would not want to get into a
shoot out in this narrow corridor. He made his way to the end of the
hall and found himself in a small plexiglass cage with four yet again
huge men. Two sporting what looked like SCAR 16's that have been
severely customized. They all knew Melvin. However, the supervisor asked
for the password a second time which Melvin happily gave. Once that was
done he could hear two distinct "clicks" of selector levers on carbines
going back on safe.
When the sentry opened the
plexiglass door Melvin winced a little at how loud the music was. He
knew the Disk Jockey "Spleen" very well. Tonight seemed to be a Techo
kind of night for him. He could see him on the balcony in the back of
the club dancing to the beat of the music as he looked for the next song
on his laptop. Purple was the color of the day for his hair as he
changed it almost nightly. He like to dress in S&M garb with an
assortment of spiked jewelry. Melvin debated with himself on just how he
managed to have a few women hanging off him every night. This night
there were two of them again sitting in lounge chairs off behind them in
their own S&M costumes. He put the thought out of his head as he
took in the scene.
The club itself was one huge
red carpeted room with smaller "VIP booths" situated in the corners for
customers to have more privacy with the dancers. In the center was a
large circular stage that had four poles that ran from floor to ceiling.
On each one was a dancer in some stage of being undressed. On top of
the tips that they were allowed to keep Ms. Savage paid them all well so
they did not have to "moonlight" to make ends meet. No "working girls"
were allowed.
Scattered around the club were
several plexiglass cases filled with ancient swords, knives, and
daggers. Two of the cases were filled with snakes of different species.
Two of those Melvin recognized as poisonous. Somehow the owner managed
to dot the floor with several in ground pots filled with tropical plants
from afar. Sun lamps above them provided some of the much needed
nourishment. It gave the area a feel and smell of being in a jungle of
sorts.
Off to the side of the stage was the full
length bar bar tended by the girls who were not dancing right away.
Their outfits revealed just enough to keep the mind curious and come
back for a second or third drink. The bar itself was made of ballistic
plexiglass and filled with water and tropical fish. Not really seen
anywhere else. At the very corner of the bar to the right of Melvin was
the owner, Ms. Savage. At five feet even she was a short but plump woman
who had always had a love for the finer things in life. She wore a
black strapless dress that pushed up her cleavage almost to her neck.
She knew Melvin would be here tonight and she had dressed up. However,
he had no interest.
He made his way over to her
taking note of the people and of the surrounding to see if anything was
out of character for the scene. So far, nothing had caught his
attention.
See Part 2
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