“This is a great club,” added the second. “Don’t blow this for us.”
Stryker snapped a pic of them, then tapped his IDware app. “Whose car is this?”
“Mine,” said the third, who pulled a switchblade from his pocket.
“An Uber or the cops,” Stryker said. “You decide.”
The one with the knife stepped forward. Stryker stood his ground.
“Dude, don’t do it.” His friend held him back, but he broke free.
“Put the blade away or I’ll use it on you.” Stryker’s phone binged with the search results, but he stayed locked on the idiot.
Raising the knife, the man lunged toward Stryker. Stryker grabbed his wrist, twisted it hard, and squeezed.
“AAEEEEI!” As soon as he dropped the weapon, Stryker shoved him to the ground, then grabbed the knife.
“Wrong choice.” Stryker dialed 911.
“What’s your emergency?”
“A drunk at my club attacked me with a knife.” Stryker gave his location and hung up. Then, he called his line manager. “Tank, parking lot. Now.”
As the man rose, Stryker tossed a nod to the other two guys. “Stand over there.”
Both guys moved away.
Tank came jogging into the parking lot. A former marine, Tank was built like one. “Hey, boss man.” Then, Tank eyed the guy. “You couldn’t stop, could you? I threw you out and you pissed off the owner. Stupid move.”
“Police are on their way,” Stryker said to Tank. “Hold him.”
While Tank kept the troublemaker from bolting, Stryker canceled his membership, then tagged the others. “You two are on my shit list. Pull this crap again and you’re out.” He called them an Uber.
“Thank you,” said the first guy.
“Sorry, man,” said the second.
“You don’t even know who I am,” muttered the third guy.
Stryker showed him his phone. “That’s you, that’s your online membership, and this is me deleting your account and banning you from my club.” Stryker tapped two keys, and the guy was marked as NFW—No Fucking Way.
“I can use a different name, douche,” said the asshole.
“You gotta stop,” said his friend. “Just stop talking.”
“I’m not afraid of the owner.”
“You should be,” said Tank.
“I’ve got facial ID software,” Stryker explained. “Unless you have major reconstructive surgery, you can’t get back in my club.”
“What the hell?” he mumbled. “Who are you?”
“He’s one of the best hackers in the world,douche,” Tank said. “He can eff up your life with a few clicks on the keyboard. You picked the wrong man to piss off, dude.”
A car pulled in and slowed. “Someone call for an Uber?”
The two guys thanked Stryker and hurried into the waiting vehicle. As the car pulled out, a police cruiser drove in. After Stryker spoke to the officer, the guy was arrested, cuffed, and taken away.
