Chapter Three
Niko had been searching two days now, with no such luck. He did errands for Little Jacob during the day, as well as asking around Bohan if anyone had seen her and then at night, he searched the clubs and bars of Bohan and Algonquin.
Thompson was being quite impatient now, but it wasn't as if he could do anything about it. He had all of his men trying to find her, the public informed and bribed for information, the police were on her tail. . .
Bellic decided to go to the Cave, an underground club/brothel/bar, it wasn't that well known, but still had a reputation. He parked his car thirty feet from the entrance; there wasn't anyone else in sight. It wasn't even ten o'clock at night yet. Niko walked over to the black and white sign that had 'The Cave' written in italic script, 'Smart dress only, suits and uniforms allowed. NO EXCEPTIONS'.
He sighed and got back into his car.
Twenty minutes later, he re-parked and checked the sign again, 'Smart dress only, suits and uniforms allowed. NO EXCEPTIONS. Stair entrance around the back'.
Niko loosened his tie slightly as he climbed down the stairs, preparing himself for whatever lay behind the door.
The club was true to its name, with a high ceiling and dark interior, accompanied by lanterns and candles, it was every bit a cave.
Men in shirts and ties littered the dance floor, some of the women were dressed modestly, yet moved like common whores in time with the bass of the music.
Tables surrounded the dance floor and there was a bar in the far corner. The bar was the only familiar sight to Niko, so he eased his way around the moving bodies, avoiding the lumps of flesh that spewed out from the main bulk of the crowd.
He ordered straight vodka when he took a seat at the bar. The music was near deafening with the bass pumping into his chest, the strobe lighting was taking away yet another sense.
How could he look for her in this environment? No wonder why no one could find her.
Niko threw back his drink and ordered another one soon after.
"Hello there," a female said in his ear, her words were said loudly so they could actually be heard.
He turned to see a woman not much older than himself, dressed in a long black pencil skirt and a white shirt, which didn't conceal her cleavage in anyway.
"Looking a bit lonely, aren't you? Why don't you come out back, I'm sure I can find you some. . .worthwhile company." He did not decline her offer, simply drank his second vodka, slapped down a few dollar bills and followed her, without saying a word.
The woman lead him to a door covered with keep out signs, behind it was a long, empty corridor which had doors every 10ft on either side.
"Depending on what you're into, we've got different girls offering their variety of services, for a fee of course," Niko nodded in reply. "Judging by what I've seen of you so far, you like to keep it simple, easy and. . .rough maybe?"
He shrugged.
"One of my girls have just finished, she's likes it rough, so they're may be some element of bondage involved, you're okay with that right?" She didn't even bother to wait for a reply, how could a straight man resist being fucked by a gorgeous woman? Even if their hands were held together by plastic handcuffs, sex was still sex.
"It'll be five hundred dollars for the hour, and it'll be the best money you've spend in a long time, guaranteed."
She lead him to the empty room, and told him to sit on the wooden chair that was right in the middle of the floor. It was about 10ft by 11ft, had a single light bulb hanging above the chair, and had a black leather sofa along the back wall.
"The no-touch rule doesn't exist here, so do what you will," were the woman's last words to him.
Niko sat down on the chair, not sure what to expect in this prison cell.
The light turned off and he heard the door click shut. His ears were ringing slightly, it was nearly silent, the music was just a dull thudding now. Just after a night-long artillery bombardment, or just after a grenade explodes only a few metres away from you.
The bulb then flicked on and his eyes made out a female standing at the door, when they finally were accustomed to the light, his sight took in the detail of the ebony thigh boots, the short black skirt, the laced black corset and matching leather gloves that went all the way up her arm.
She circled round him slowly, her heels clicking against the grey concrete of the floor. Her hair was long, curled and a strange sort of cherry colour. Like dark droplets of blood falling from her head, twisting and curling at their will.