Is this normal enough, 'cuz I'm not sure...?

Jack lay down on the creaky-springed bed as the cheap hotel room was set ablaze by the swftly setting sun, its last rays tainting everything they touched with the red that was home to this part of the world.
If I can only get a few moments rest, he thought slowly beginning to drift off, despite the eternally honking horns of the eternally impatient drivers on the equally eternally crowded Egyptian streets below. Did they really think it did them any good? That honking their pitiful horns, which sounded more like a baby's rubber duck upon being squeezed, would suddenly force all others to go faster? Or perhaps just disappear? Jack shrugged off such thoughts and thoughts of the big day ahead of him and rolled over, provoking an eerie screeeeech to protrude from the vermin-infested twin bed.
Jack smiled. They probably just honk because everyone else honks, and its just what you do. What a sick habit to--
Four loud bangs prevented any further thought. However, that was not going to stop Jack from sleeping. They'd go away after a few minutes. They always do.
Jack began to submit himself to the refreshing blackness that was sleep. He would not dream. He never dreamed. Not in, what was it? Ten, twelve, twenty years? Who knows how long it'd been since he'd had his last dream. And he was grateful for it. Jack Nightengael was not one to be troubled with fantasies and dreams and wishes. Sleep was sleep; peaceful rest for the mind and body. Nothing more.
Bang, bang, bang.
Jack couldn't believe it. Either he was dreaming, or there was an impertinent pest who had one more chance before he got out of bed; the perpetrators worst case scenario. Jack decided to go with the more obvious. The vermin had one more chance. The ten abnoxious knocks that followed just about mutilated that chance.
With another screech and a vow never to return to this accursed country again, Jack rolled out of what these third worlders called a "bed", and proceeded to the only other piece of furnature in the room. A small wooden desk with a small wooden chair. Jack grabbed the chair and wrenched it from the desk, sending small screws and nails tumbling across the floor. Selecting the leg with the least amount of termite damage, he then proceeded to snap off one of the legs. A simple task for his well-trained arms.
Five more knocks. Patiently examining the leg, and finding that, though corroded, it was still thick, and had a jagged edge due to its recent removal, Jack carried his makeshift club to the door and opened it, prepared for anything.
All right. Prepared for almost anything. In the hallway, directly facing Jack's room, stood a young girl. She looked about fifteen or sixteen, but definitely no older than seventeen. Looking her up and down, Jack snarled and headed back inside.
The moment he turned around, however, he felt something hit him in the neck. It didn't seem very effective, but, just as he was turning around to give the girl a painful reprimand, the world careened about him, growing dim, and eventually blacked out altogether.
Jack awoke a few moments later dazed, with a slight headache, and angry. Casting a sweeping glance at the room, he calculated the damage: his suitcase zipper had slightly moved, the window was approximately an inch more open, his bed was tidier than before, and a couple of the screws and nails had been accidentally kicked to the other side of the room. In short, they had been looking for something, and they had found it. Whoever "they" was.
Jack walked over to his suitcase. Opening it, he found that his credit card was missing from one of the pockets on the inside flap. Great. Reaching into his hind pocket, he found his wallet. He pulled it out.
Oh lovely--they'd taken his I.D. That wasn't inconvenient at all. However, they had left his cash, so they obviously weren't common thieves.
Walking over to the window, Jack leaned against the sill and peered down at the just-as-busy-as-before streets, now shrouded in nights blankets of shadows. A smile crept over his face.
"So," he said to the bustling world, "It finally begins."