Chapter 4: CSI Barcelona - excerpt

A mass of a man, his face twisted and twitching, stormed into the packed club at Port Olimpic. Towering over the party-goers grooving to the flashing lights and pulsating music, he wiped the sweat running into his eyes, squinted, and scanned the dancefloor. His sights fixed on a blond girl who stood at the bar. Steam rose off his head and he scowled. “Get outta my way,” he said shoving a kid with baggy jeans and braids to the side.
       “¡Joder! ¿Qué te pasa, tio?” The boy shot back with a nod of the head. “¿Tienes algún problema?”
       The kid stepped up with his chest out looking for a fight.
        “Speak English.” The brute smashed his forehead into the bridge of the boy’s nose sending him screaming to the ground. Lifting his blood splattered head, the English man sneered, “Anyone else got a problem?”
       The group picked up their friend and parted with a series of mumbled Spanish insults. Looking around the club, the bull of a man refocused on the girl at the bar, saw red at her talking to an American he knew, and charged. People bounced off him like dull spears against a thick hide as he raged towards his target. Two bouncers with bulging veins and inflated arms rushed in and tackled him, wrestling him to the ground. He was strong; they were stronger.
      “Get the fuck off me,” he shouted as they dragged him kicking and screaming across the dancefloor and threw him out into the pouring rain.
         Dusting himself off, he stood and steamed. As he readied for a second charge, a shout from above got his attention. He looked up seeing only a black speck in the night sky. In less than a second the speck became a large brick and - before he had a chance to run - it was a piece of a concrete.