2.

So, with no plan formed, aching body, ringing ears and a gun that I knew would probably be no use, I reached out and took hold of the door handle. The door swung outward in a wide arc, and I stepped slowly inside, letting it shut behind me. Some great disguise, I thought. A dripping wet raincoat and hat in a club populated with hot young women and some very large looking men. The walls were covered with posters for shitty films that no-one would ever admit to seeing, and the Latino music was loud and throbbing. Thick cigar smoke hung in the air. I quickly scanned the scene. Not recognising any of his men, I thought my luck had changed a little, so I took the hat and coat off and just threw them on the floor, just to give off a bit of attitude. This did get some attention. One of the waitresses came over and had just opened her mouth to tell me to pick them up when I gave her the look. It seemed to work. I carried on walking over to the bar.
" Beer" I said to the barman.
"And what do we say?"
I reached over and grabbed him by collar.
"Now. "
I put him back down. This, though, really did draw someone's attention.
It was Tony, one of his more trusted foot soldiers. He knew me. He was casually walking toward me with a pool cue in his hand.
"Well, well. Look who it ain't. Took your time, man" he said.
"Yeah, well, I'm getting older and it takes me a little more time these days."
Tony started laughing, and it was only at this point that I'd noticed that the club had gone quiet. Some of his other guys had come over to stand nearby, and had joined in the laughter. I kept my eye on the cue. Suddenly Tony whipped it backwards and made to strike me with it, but I was ready and was able to duck under the reach of the cue. On my way up though, I was able to grab Tony by the stones. This had two effects; one, he dropped the cue, and two, due to the body's natural reaction to this kind of unnatural feeling, Tony had slightly bent forward, out of breath. So I slugged him hard on the jaw with my free hand, following through with my elbow.
Tony went down like the sack of shit he is, and I was quite surprised at the respectable amount of room I'd been given. I pressed home my advantage, and hit him on the jaw again. This time he screamed in pain and I don't think even the hardest men in the club could believe what I'd just done. Tony was busy screaming his pain and spitting blood when I grabbed his greasy curly hair and yanked his head upward.
"You can't speak, so I'll make it easy for you. Just point. "
He looked at me wild eyed as if he didn't know what I meant. I'd had enough. Grabbing his hair tighter, I dragged his sorry, sweaty ass over to the stairwell at the back of the club, and repeated, "Point".
Tony had given in now and had pissed in his pants just for good measure, and with a shaking hand, pointed up the stairwell.
"Good boy, Tony. See you can do it when you try". I grabbed his finger and broke it, to ram my point home.
I stared out at the sea of faces before me. They were all fairly shocked at the level of Tony's punishment, but they didn't seem to care. I lit another cigarette, and after a minute someone eventually came and helped Tony back to the bar. I took a deep lungful of the smoke, dropped the cigarette on the floor and slowly turned my face to the top of the stairs.
"You'll never make it out" came a lone voice. I heard, but wasn't listening. Was he here? Sammy had always been right before. And besides, I'd been through too much already not to find out. I had to see it through, had to haul his ass in and make sure he got what was due. Or just kill him. I knew it wasn't going to be easy. Nothing ever is.
As I took my first step, I realised how incredibly alone I was. The stairs were dark. He was up there, waiting.
I had to carry on...