The Cold Voice. Part Two

VI
�And God said �Let there be light� and there was light. God saw that the light was good, and he separated the light from the darkness. God called the light �day� and the darkness he called �night��.
It seemed like everything good happened in the day, and that everything dark and bad happened at night. My profession was as dark as night and as cold as winter. But it felt to me that God created night for the private detective that he gave us this uncanny sense of nocturnal abilities. That we could think, see, and smell better at night.
It was the truth. 11 o�clock had rolled around the numbers until it had hit home.
It was time for me to move.
Jacket was on and I was out.
I jumped in my old Black Buick, and as quick as I got in I was sapped in the back of the head by something steel. It made my sense groggy. But before I could turn around I felt it again and I could only see the pure darkness that God created.

VII
I woke with two pulsating red buttons on my head and a .38 pointed at my temple. The hand that was holding it was strong, but delicate. I was no longer in my car. I was lying in the back of what I thought a Plymouth. My eyes became slowly aware and I side glanced the situation. A young female in her twenties was next to me with the .38. She was wearing tight black pants and a loose ruffled black shirt, and of course a black balaclava. But I could still see her eyes, full brown. Except they didn�t look fierce or angry, they were playful; she treated it like a flirt. I figured she was probably in mid-twenties. The man driving the car was stiff and alive, but he had the face of a deadpan. I pegged that he was her bodyguard, and very competent. He wore what looked like a chauffeur�s suit; a black jacket with silver circular buttons all the way to his chin, black suit pants with deep pockets. It was his shoes that got me curious; suede doted leather shoes. He was no chauffeur I had ever seen before.
They both had slanty eyes and a light brown complexion.
I went to look up above the seats to see where we were.
�No way honey� she said.
We reached the destination, so it seemed; a smooth left turn and a fluid stop. But I would be dumbed to try and work on the location from my apartment. The rain pelted violent on the car roof.
The skirt poked the gun at me hard and looked ahead, motioning me out into the cold and wet.
�Well if you think it such a good idea, how bout you skedaddle out of the car?�
It was as if she pulled a string on the deadpan, he was out of the car with no hesitation, marched to my side and by the sheer strength of a gorilla ripped me out onto the drenched cement. It felt like someone had ripped off a layer of my face, it was a cold burn. On my knees I looked up and in front of me was a giant standing over Mr. Goliath. It was possibly the biggest whare house I have ever seen. And while she discreetly and carefully unlocked the door he marched me inside the pitch black abyss.

VIII
The smell was terrible and strong, a cloud of rubber and something evil mixed together and barged through my nostrils and raced in my stomach. There was enough of that and the Whiskey to have a crazy blow of a time.
The robot and the lady continued to march me in the darkness, they must have known there way around the joint, because they weren�t bumping anything, and aint no warehouse full of nothing.
I used the darkness to my advantage and bopped the deadpan right in-between his two giant legs and rolled out of the marching party. There was a lot of movement and a lot of noise. The giant groaned as if the punch had knocked his two brass door-knobs off.
�Where the hell is he!� she said urgently.
I had managed to get cover because when the big dope had found his gun and regained his bravado he was blazing bullets into the darkness.
�You fool! Stop shooting! Do you want attention?!� And I heard a hard slap on the back of his head.
Thankfully I was behind a big chrome chasse; I knew it was a car.
Getting out of there wasn�t going to be easy, but it was necessary. I felt around my feet, but that made noise.
�What�s that? Over there!� by the sound of her voice she directed the monster in my direction. My foot found a monkey wrench and I hurled it in the opposite direction. !CLANG! And I was making moves, scaling to the wall and to the direction of where I thought the door was. But once again my feet fumbled over something again.
�He�s at the door Moringo, get him!�
Feeling for the door was difficult, it was close, but close wasn�t in my hand and away. The big lug sounded like a train heading for me, each stomp of the foot must have wrecked havoc on the floor. My hand shook reaching for the door. �He�s got me� my heart sank and in a flash my hand found the door and side-stepped into the street closing the steel framed door behind me. WOP. The Rhino had slammed full face and body into the cold hard steel and was tasting it on the ground, it sounded like a bag of lead dropping to the floor.
I raced for the car, in case the crazy Betty was gonna try her luck at a good old fashion gun-down, which I didn�t want coz I didn�t have one on me. I headed for the car quickly, which the big deadpanned idiot left the keys in.
�God Bless You Jack�
The lady ran for the door as I boot started the car. Just pulling away as she came running out.
The street lamp and the review mirror caught a shot of her bare face, full of disappointment, but not an angry disappointment. But as if there was something important that I had missed.
I drove the car to the East West Minister Bank�s garage, which I have been leant a key. And I strolled back to the apartment. Taxi drivers know too much nowadays.
The two saps on my head had returned after the entertainment of the night had finished.
I sunk my hands deep into my pocket and slouched my shoulders walking back to the apartment. I was sleepy which was strange because I don�t get sleepy, but what was stranger than that was a little plastic bag in my pocket which I didn�t have before tonight.