Part 3

John woke up alone in the back of the club. Shaking off his dizziness, he stood and straightened his jacket, determined to find the only person to knock him out and not kill him.

It wasn't easy but he was able to track the mysterious woman to the Crimson Dragon Club. He made a few phone calls to some of his associates and no one had ever heard of a black woman who fights with a spear traveling around in their circles.

Still dazed from being hit with some type of weird blast, he stumbled to his 1969 Mustang GT. When he settled into his seat, he made another call and hoped this one gave him the information he was looking for.

He called Aurelio, a long time associate and business owner of a high-end chop shop. He usually knows everything dealing with transportation that happens around New York.

John, a man of few words, spoke low into the speaker of his phone,"Aurelio, I'm looking for someone."

"Well, fuckin' hi to you too, John. And what might this someone look like? Or should I guess?"

John tucks several strands of hair behind his ear as he draws in a couple of deep breaths to get his bearings. "I'm looking for a woman. A black woman with an accent that sounds like she's from the continent of Africa. Very beautiful, with short hair almost balding and has some type of tribal designs on the sides."

John heard a sigh come through the phone, "You're in New York, that could be any fashion model. Is there anything specific to this woman that'll help me locate her?"

"We fought in the Red Circle and she hit me with some type of sonic blast with her spear."

"No, the fuck you did not say spear?"

"Yes, I did."

"Well, why the fuck didn't you lead with that? No one around here fights with spears. That shit is old school. You're in luck, buddy. The only people I know that still walk around with old weapons with powers from the future are the Wakandans."

"What kind of name is that?"

"Hahaha!" Aurelio's cackle came out loud through the speakers.

John had to take a moment to look at his phone in confusion, "What's so funny?"

Aurelio finally sobered, "Nothin' just an inside joke. John, you really need to come out of that hole you call a house more often. Wakanda is a country in Africa, made itself known to the world, not too long ago. They have a lot of advanced tech and if you fought one of them and lived, then you are one lucky son-of-a-bitch."

Frustrated with his friend's verbiage diarrhea, John cut to the chase, "Can you just tell me if you know where I can find this woman? She was wearing a red dress."

John heard a few rustling sounds on the other end of the line, a muffled curse and a few beeps from some type of machine, "There's word a woman matching that description is at the Crimson Dragon Club. She's not a regular and she's not socializing. Could be your girl."

He gave a short, "Thanks," hung up the phone and gunned the engine to speed his way over to the nightclub he'd only visited once and that was to take out the spoiled brat who killed his dog.

The Crimson Dragon was a large bar filled with white, marble pillars all throughout, it's bright red lighting giving all it's occupants a fiery glow.

He walks into the club, blending seamlessly into the crowd. He watches, he observes.

There she was, looking as fresh and as beautiful as if she never participated in a fierce brawl less than three hours ago. She stood calmly and confident on the other side of the room speaking on her cell phone. She wasn't hiding, she came in here to finish whatever business she had. Her confident stance proved she probably thought she lost him.

Unfortunately, for her, she doesn't know who she's dealing with.

He underestimated her before, it won't happen again. Her skills impressed him. He still didn't understand why she kept him alive.

Though he watched her closely, he still kept an eye on the bar's many patrons to see if Volskof or any of his men show up.

To his right, he spotted Boris in a blue suit, openly watching his target. He recognized several others and they didn't even pretend to cover up their open interest in the lady in red.

Boris lifted his wrist to his face and mouthed several words. "Okoye is here. Take her down."

Those three words pissed off the one the legends called 'The boogeyman.'

He finally got a name for his beautiful mark and she was his. There was no way in hell, someone else will claim her.

In Wakandan, Okoye spoke low into her phone and kept her conversation with second in command, Ayo, short and to the point. "It appears that I will not procure the weapons from this Nathan Volskof this night." She turned her head slightly and spotted men approaching and she didn't think they were coming over for a friendly chat.

Ayo's English, heavily accented with Wakanda's dialect came through the tiny Kimoyo bead implanted on the back of her ear. "Shall I come to your aid, General."

Okoye used her cell phone to mask speaking into thin air, "No thank you. I can handle this. Please inform Shuri and Queen Mother, I shall be in the air momentarily. King T'Challa will understand I need to attend to a few minor inconveniences."

Ayo knew not to question her superior, so she responded with a crisp, "Yes, General," then signed off.

The heavily bass music pumping through the club was distracting at most, yet not enough to keep the General's attention off the several men who had her in their sights.

There was also that one.

She thought she lost him, yet there he was. Standing in the shadows… observing. Okoye had little time to think on this Mr. Wick. When she failed to complete her mission at the first bar, she did a quick search on the man who interrupted her meeting with Volskof.

The War Dogs of Wakanda kept a vast database of any and all persons of interest to her country. It didn't take long to find him, but she had to dig quite a bit deeper than she expected.

John Wick, former assassin, widower and works on and off for the Wata Family. The same underworld family Nathan Volskof buys weapons for.

On the ride over, she read his file. Very proficient with weapons, especially guns. He didn't kill just to kill. It was either an assignment or someone who came after him. That gave Okoye the realization on why John came for her. "I'm not the target. Nathan is. The arms dealer must be selling weapons on the side if the Wata's sent an assassin."

Her attention was brought back to the present when she spotted one of the men observing her reach into his jacket as he moved to get closer. Before he had a chance to pull it out and aim, Okoye unleashed one side of her sonic spear, stabbing him with minimum movement, then pulling the unfortunate soul towards her.

She wrapped one arm around him and feigned as if they were having an intimate conversation. With the spear piercing his abdomen, she turned both their bodies and let his lifeless one fall to the ground behind a pillar.

Unseen by anyone, except John.

While John witnessed this silent execution, he started to make his way forward. She may have been his target for this night, but he needed to satisfy his own curiosity about why this woman was here.

After she took down the first man, he saw more moving her way.

He caught the one assailant, Boris in the blue suit, try to make his way past him. John grabbed his shoulder before he could move further, pulled his Glock with a silencer and plugged him with two shots to the chest. The man fell to the ground without a word.

John moved on.

Dropping the man in blue did not escape the notice of his associates. While several still converged on Okoye, now with her spear opened part way making the fight very much public, the others turned their attention to the man in black, walking purposely toward their intended target.

One man jumped on John's back to try and hold him for his buddies to rough him up. John didn't bother to wrestle with the guy, he just reached back with the gun in his hand and squeezed the trigger twice, catching the man in the thigh and in his groin.

He quickly let John go.

The club's patrons were busy screaming and scrambling for an exit when a shot whizzed past John's head, barely missing him. The boogeyman dropped to his knee and between a careful and careless aim, he dropped the balding thug standing near the far entrance with one shot to his naked dome.

While busy fighting herself, Okoye was not too busy to see the slick moves John executed when it came to being surrounded by those trying to kill him. Guns to her were inferior… they made more noise than necessary.

A good chunk of those who wield guns had this inane ability to miss its target most of the time, which resulted in a waste of the precious metal encasing noisy and poisonous gunpowder. A Wakandan would never be so disrespectful and negligent of their precious Vibranium.

John's expert handling of those primitive weapons was giving her second thoughts.

Okoye didn't have enough room and hadn't yet been able to fully open her spear, but she didn't need to. It was only the length of a short sword and its velocity was tempered by the pressure of her palm.

That was all she needed.

Two men came at her from the side while another one came from the front. The ones behind her brandished their guns and luckily for her, they were reluctant to use them in front of so many bystanders. She needed to attend to the one she labeled 'grease lightning' for his slicked backed hair and his all leather outfit. He came from the front and was closest to her. He had to be dispatched before dealing with the men holding, yet still reluctant to use their guns.

The black purse in which she carried her spear when she was out of Wakanda was made of tempered, woven steel and could be used as a weapon itself. With a hefty throw, she hit the greasy one in the throat, halting his advance.

With the crowd finally vacating the vicinity, the only ones left in the club were the beautiful and dangerous Okoye, Volskof's goons and the ever-fascinating, John Wick.

Now with a little more room, she was able to fully unleash her sonic spear and before the two with guns could get any closer, she poked the tip into one's chest, shocking him into dropping his weapon. Pushing the sharp end, she guided the electrified mobster into his companion and the static shock traveled to encompass him, as well.

Both fell to the ground, jerking and spasming in seizure-like movements.

With three out of commission, the man in the leather get-up ran up to Okoye and tried to tackle her from behind. The leader of the Dora Milaje simply thrust her spear backward. Impaling him quickly and quietly.

John raised from his knees and spotted another dressed in black try to hide behind a pillar to get the jump on him. He quickly reloaded his gun and slammed his back against the cold marble.

Looking down and around the pillar, he spotted the man's foot. One shot to the toe brought the man out of hiding as he howled. John then proceeded to tap him two times in the head.

John didn't want him to get back up and jump him from behind.

Okoye was finishing the last of her assailants when John finally made it to her side.

With fascination, he watched her retrieve the sharp point of her spear out of the chest of one dressed in black leather. Then watched it slowly shrink within itself.

Done with fighting, he held his palms out in a 'I mean you know harm' gesture.

Okoye straightened her spine as her spear closed in on itself. Taking a deep breath, she looked around for any more attacks. When none was forthcoming, she asked in her alluring accent, "I see you know how to handle your weapons and I admire that. In my country, we consider them primitive armaments."

With a small shake of his hair, John spoke in a low growly voice, he shrugged, "It gets the job done."

Smirking at his nonchalance, she wanted to know more about this man. "I'm fascinated with your skill of using such archaic weaponry and I would love to spar with you."

For emphasis, she added, "Between warrior and warrior."

John, who barely exerted himself dealing with those goons, almost lost his calm by her request. Then it dawned on him, "I take it, you're not working with Nathan Volskof?"

With a coy smile and a cock of her eyebrow, "What made you guess?"

He looked around before placing his gun back into its holster behind his back. "If you were working with him, his men wouldn't be trying to kill you."

"Very perceptive. I assume you didn't know that back at the Red Circle?"

He placed his hands on his hips and looked down at Okoye, "You assume correct. I didn't know who Volskof's contact was. The only thing I knew was that he was tryin' to sell what didn't belong to him."

"So, who are you and what's your role in this?"

Okoye smiled, held out the now small block of metal. John stared fascinated as the bladed tips grew out from each end until it formed into her shiny metal spear. She then scoffed, "Bah… you Americans. Always shoot first and ask questions later." She set her feet into a fighting stance, "About my request. Prepare yourself, warrior."

He gives her a questioning look, "You're serious."

She steps back a little, "Of course I'm serious."

Still not knowing if she's for real, he states, "I don't want to hurt you."

Her tinkling laugh fills the empty room except for dead bodies. He reveled at how this woman could show such joy among this carnage.

He liked that.

John scoffed softly, quirked his eyebrow, then straightened his designer tie before quickly pulling a revolver from out of his shoulder holster.

Just as quick, Okoye twirled her spear and hit the butt of his weapon.

John experienced a long-lost sense of excitement when she smacks his gun out of his hand for the second time and watched it fly across the room. He didn't let that discourage him as he effortlessly bent at the waist, dodging Okoye's backswing and with a grunt, reached down to grab a gun from his ankle holster.

Instead of standing back up, he twisted himself on the ground to get away from the long length of her spear.

Rolling onto his knees, he took aim, but she was no longer standing in the same spot. She and her mesmerizing, flowing red dress twirled around a column and almost had him dead to rights if he hadn't seen the spiraling glare from the spear's vibrant metal swinging toward his head.

With careful aim, he shot a bullet at the tip to get it away from him before it smashed him in the face.

Okoye countered her spear being forced upward with swinging the bottom to catch John between the legs and sweeping him off his feet. The moved surprised him as nothing else did and before he could react, she swung it again, halting it instantly with the sharp metal edge almost touching his throat.

Barely out of breath, Okoye smiled coyly down at him, "It was nice sparring with you, Mr. Wick. Maybe we should do this again sometime."

With a quick snap of her wrist, the flat side of the blade smacked him on the side of his temple. Knocking him out cold.

Okoye kneeled next to the brave and handsome dark warrior and ran one of her Kimoyo beads along his forehead. Before she stood, she caressed his dark beard, running her fingers through the thick strands with longing.

She sighed. He should wake soon with no lasting damage.

Gathering her clutch, she walked out of the empty bar through the back exit. Pressing another bead of her Vibranium bracelet, a small Wakandan shuttlecraft appeared in front of her in the wide alley behind the building.

Yes, she looked forward to confronting Mr. Wick once again. Next time, she'll have more knowledge as to why he thought she was an arms dealer.