Savage's Woman

by Loki Renard

  “Are you two coming?”

  “Oh yes,” Anja said. “I'm definitely going to see what happens when Captain Matthews leads a mission.”

  She laughed and Martin Holt chuckled and Zora wanted to kick the both of them in the shins. “Look, we're about an hour out. When we get there, neither of you two are going to do anything besides keep an eye out whilst I pay Savage a little visit. Far as I can tell he's holed up in the third floor of an under-tenanted office building. I'm just going to walk in there, say hello, tell him that the mission is compromised, and then you can take me back to Fort Thistle for my beatings or whatever.”

  “She loves her beatings,” Anja said to Martin Holt. “I think she'd die without them.”

  “Anja!” Zora scowled furiously at the woman. “I brought you here so you could shoot people if they needed shooting. Not so you could mock me.”

  “You're so mockable though,” Anja said. “You're a walking cartoon character.”

  “Fuck you, Anja.”

  Martin Holt intervened before Anja could kick Zora's ass up and down the block. “We're not here to fight, are we, ladies?”

  “That's the only reason I'm here,” Anja replied, her pretty face taking on a fearsome aspect. “If I don't get to kick Tex's ass, I'm going for hers.”

  Zora looked to Martin Holt, hoping he would chide Anja for her aggressive threats. To her consternation, he simply smiled and nodded.

  Whilst Anja and Martin Holt bonded over their mutual amusement, Zora took over the driving. She also took care of the parking, and then she took care of the infiltrating the secret military operation, which was super easy to infiltrate because it was posing as an accountancy firm and was therefore open to the public.

  “I'm going to give you one last warning, Zora,” Martin Holt said as she prepared to go in. “This is not a good idea. He will not be pleased to see you and he is no doubt already aware of all your concerns. Rushing in there will constitute a mission breach.”

  “Thanks,” Zora said. “I'll take it on advisement.”

  She ran up the stairs of the building and burst into 'Blutering Associates.'

  “Can I help you ma'am?” A pretty redhead met her with a broad fake smile. Zora wondered what branch of the military she was from, but refrained from asking. That would probably be going too far. Definitely going too far. Besides, she'd already laid eyes on her target.

  She saw Savage and her heart skipped a beat. He was not in his usual military uniform. He was in a business suit, a suit that was perfectly cut to show off his powerful form. After weeks of not seeing him, laying eyes on him in that kind of attire was just too much for Zora to handle. She threw caution to the wind and ran to him, barreling into his arms unexpectedly and catching him in a tight hug.

  “Zora!” Savage's expression was a mix of astonishment, anger and fear as he pulled away and held her at arm's length. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “I came to save you,” she said. “From Tex. He knows you're coming.”

  He said nothing, but dragged her into a small windowless office. It might have been a storage closet, she couldn't really tell the difference and it didn't matter because all her attention was on him and his handsome face contorted with annoyance.

  “Goddammit, Zora!” Savage hissed the words, frustration evident in every line of his body. “Why the heck can't you just stay where you're told to stay!”

  Zora recoiled from his anger. “But...”

  “But nothing,” Savage said. “I know what I'm doing. Now you've broken out, they're going to want you locked up for certain. You've ruined everything. Everything! This mission. Us!”

  Tears flooded Zora's eyes. “I've ruined us?”

  “This is it, Zora. I'm calling someone and they're going to come and pick you up and I don't care if they do put you in the hole. This is ridiculous.”

  He took her by the arm and led her out of the office and subsequently out of the building. She went without further argument because she'd never seen Savage so angry. She'd never felt rejection from him either. The two emotions were more powerful than she could handle. And it was about to get worse. A lot worse. Savage had spotted Martin Holt and Anja.

  “What the blasted hell are you two doing here?”

  “Zora called me and told me you were in trouble or something,” Anja said. “I came to help.”

  “And you?” Savage looked at Martin Holt.

  “I was compelled to accompany Ms Matthews,” Martin Holt said. “Under duress.”

  Zora cringed under Savage's angry stare. “You kidnapped Holt?”

  “Only a little bit,” Zora said, putting her thumb and forefinger close together to demonstrate just how little she'd kidnapped Martin Holt. “I mean, he came with us practically the whole way here of his own accord.”

  “Dammit, Matthews!” Savage turned on her with all his fury and she shied away, afraid of what he might do.

  He drew himself together with some serious self-control, grabbed her and cable tied her hands together behind her back. For a brief moment, she wondered how many other executives in Utah carried cable tie cuffs in their jacket pockets. Then she came crashing back into the misery of the present moment.

  “Mr Holt, take Ms Matthews back to Fort Thistle,” he said. “I am going to try to salvage this mission.”

  And that was how Zora was lead back to the car in tears and in plastic cuffs. She tried not to cry too much, because she was keenly aware that Martin Holt and Anja were looking at her with expressions that indicated they were remembering how they had told her so.

  “Oh god, he hates me,” she moaned to herself.

  “He does not hate you. He is frustrated because his mission has been compromised. I am sure he will forgive you in time. I would worry more about what's waiting for you when you get back to Fort Thistle.”

  Martin Holt was being nice. A lot nicer than he had to be, all things considered.

  “What is waiting for me at Fort Thistle?”

  “Several military police at the very least. We'll see if you can avoid a trial and sentence. I don't know.”

  Zora didn't care about a trial or a sentence. She cared about how angry and disappointed Savage had been. Remembering the look on his face made her feel sick to her stomach. She had to fix it somehow.

  Bundled into the back of the car with Anja, Zora found herself once more being driven to a dodgy destiny. This time she wasn't content to be a passive passenger. This time she was going to take the bull by the horns. Nobody trusted her, that was the problem. But she'd show them. She'd catch Tex and she'd make sure Savage was safe and if they were still mad at her by the end of that, well then they were just total dicks.

  “Anja,” she whispered across the backseat.

  Anja shot her a sharp, angry look. “What?”

  Anja was mad. Zora didn't really blame her. She'd lost a lot of face in front of Savage, that was for sure. Maybe he wouldn't consider her the perfect little pet anymore. Hopefully not.

  “This is the last favor I ever ask of you, I promise,” Zora said, putting on her friendliest face. It felt strange to be smiling submissively at Anja, but needs must. She needed Anja's help.

  “No.”

  “You haven't even heard what I need,” Zora pleaded.

  “I don't care. I'm not helping you.”

  “Please, Anja. Just this one last thing. I'll owe you one. I'll owe you more than one if you want.”

  Anja rolled her eyes. “What?”

  “Cut the ties. Let me go.”

  “No way,” Anja said firmly. “You're going to jail. Where you belong.”

  “How the heck do you figure I belong in jail?” Zora hissed the question. She would like to have yelled it, but then Martin Holt would have heard her. “What have I done so damn wrong that you hate me this much?”

  “You're a screw up,” Anja whispered back. “You bring Brett down. You damn near ruined his career. You sure as hell ruined mine.”

  “I didn't make
you crazier than a coke whore,” Zora hissed back. “Own your own damn shit. OW!”

  She recoiled as Anja slapped her clean across the face, her long fingers accentuating the brutal sting.

  “You fucking...” she swore. “You fucking hit me!”

  Anja didn't so much as dignify her with a response.

  “Is there a problem, ladies?” Martin Holt asked the question mildly as ever, glancing in the rear view mirror at the pair of them.

  “Zora is trying to get me to help her escape,” Anja said.

  “Tattle-tale,” Zora snapped.

  “I would suggest not compounding your crimes, Ms Matthews,” Martin Holt said. “At this point in time, there is still a chance of getting you out of trouble with little more than a slap on the wrist – or some other body part.”

  Zora shut her mouth and nodded, pretending to acquiesce. Truth be told, she'd already worked out how she was going to get free. There was a knife in Anja's back pocket. And probably in her front pocket, and her bra and her sock. The woman bristled with concealed weaponry. But the knife in the back of her pants, that was what Zora was fixated on because a) it was a butterfly knife, easily operable with one hand and b) it was halfway out of Anja's pocket already.

  The problem of how to get it all the way out was solved easily. At the next easy corner, Zora lunged toward Anja, pretending to be thrown off balance by the turning of the car. Anja was not fooled in the slightest as Zora smushed into her, but she was far too annoyed by the action itself to question the reason for it. Zora was able to snag the knife out of Anja's pocket moments before being forcibly shoved back across the car by a very irate Anja.

  “Anja, why don't you come and ride up front with me,” Martin Holt suggested, seeing the little fracas take place. “Zora isn't going anywhere.”

  He was wrong. Zora was going somewhere. The moment Anja got out of the car she had the butterfly knife open and working on the plastic ties holding her wrists bound. Really, Savage should probably have gone ahead and used actual handcuffs. They were at least a challenge to get out of. The hardest thing about getting out of the plastic tie was in keeping her hands behind her back, pretending she was still contained until there was an opportune moment to make an escape.

  The opportune moment came when they were passing through a reasonably sized town. As the car slowed at an intersection, Zora pushed open her door, bailed out and ran like the wind. There was a shout behind her, and she knew Anja would give chase, so she put on the biggest burst of speed she had at her disposal, dashing through crowds and down alleys until she was certain she had not been followed.

  She was actually quite surprised that she hadn't been followed. She knew damn well Anja could outrun her. Had Anja not even bothered to give chase? Figured. Anja wouldn't have wanted her back. Anja was probably glad to see the back of her in order to get into Martin Holt's pants. That was fine by Zora. She had a mercenary mogul to find.

  Savage had been furious because she'd let Tex get away, but Zora didn't have all that much trouble tracking Tex down. That was largely due to the fact that she didn't have to track him down. Within hours of escaping the vehicle, she began to notice that there were people in the eddying town crowds who didn't quite belong there.

  Their facial expressions were wrong, to begin with. Most people walking around town were either engaged with the people they were walking with, or lost in their own little worlds, faint smiles or frowns floating over their features as they walked. But the ones Zora noticed were scanning. They were scanning everything and everyone. Their eyes moved back and forth across the crowds, not looking for a particular store, or a car parked and then forgotten, but scanning for a person.

  Zora took the liberty of popping into a big box store and swiping a few items. New jeans, for starters. Blue, not black, although she would have preferred black. But black stood out. Blue was more commonplace. She also nabbed a generic football jersey, a pair of sunglasses and a ball cap. Having dumped the security tags in the trash and found a five dollar bill on the floor, she headed back to the town center and bought herself a hot dog with everything. Well, not everything. Onions, mustard and ketchup. A hotdog with enough.

  She made her way up a handy fire escape and sat on the edge of a three-story building, watching the town go by. The searchers were still searching. From her vantage point she could see them sweeping back and forth, doing rotations.

  Were they Tex's people? It seemed likely. They weren't military, that was for sure. They were a little too sleek and slick for that. She wondered who they were looking for.

  The hard round barrel of a gun pressed against the back of her neck.

  “Get up.”

  “Gimme a minute,” she said, stuffing the rest of the hot dog into her mouth.

  “Get up. Now.”

  She held up a finger as she chewed and swallowed. Then, having swallowed, she pushed off the edge of the building and dropped back down onto the fire escape. Heh. It had the word 'escape' built right into it. She liked that.

  Clattering down the iron stairs, she had almost made it to the bottom when she saw two keen eyed men waiting for her there. She could hear the one on the roof coming down behind her. It was only a matter of seconds until... “OW!”

  Zora yelped with pain as an unseen hand cracked against her left buttock and then her wrist was taken very firmly.

  “Come along quietly,” a mustachioed man in a dark gray lambs wool turtleneck murmured to her. “We don't want a scene.”

  “You don't want a scene,” Zora growled. “I do.”

  With that, she let out an ear-piercing scream, which made her attackers scatter like snowflakes before a hairdryer. They just melted right back into the crowd, giving her resentful stares. She smirked. She had the upper hand as long as she stayed around sufficient people to notice if she was dragged away kicking and screaming.

  FWOMP.

  There was a stinging in her butt cheek. She turned, thinking she'd been smacked again, but instead she saw a little red dart sticking out of the backside of her new jeans.

  “Dammit,” she swore as the world turned black.

  Chapter Twelve

  Zora woke up on a rubber mattress. She was not alone. The room was dark, but she could sense another presence with her. A very familiar presence.

  “Tex?”

  The man smiled at her as he pushed out of the shadows. She felt a tremor of terror as she once again laid eyes on the man who might just be the perfect villain. Smooth, debonair, smart and unashamedly wicked. She'd never expected to see him again and yet, there he was. There was one major point of difference however. The chair. The wheelchair.

  “Who else?”

  “I knew you weren't dead.”

  Tex's dark eyes glittered at her. “Not for want of you leaving me to die in a sewer like a rat.”

  “You deserved it.”

  “Perhaps,” Tex admitted rather sportingly. “But I think I've been punished sufficiently.”

  She looked at the chair. “You're paralyzed?”

  “No,” Tex said. “Skiing accident.” He pointed to his foot and she saw that it was in a cast. A black cast she'd missed at first sight.

  “You've been skiing?”

  “Nothing like mountain air for recuperating from being shot,” Tex said with a smile. “I've rather missed you, Zora. Things weren't the same without you.”

  “Well I'm not back,” she said. “I'm here to bring you in.”

  He threw his head back and laughed. “You're alone, Zora. As usual. And I'm not. And you're in my cell. You know, for a devastatingly intelligent woman, you do some very stupid things.”

  “Captain Savage is after you,” Zora said. “He'll bring you in.”

  “I know exactly what Captain Savage is doing. He's been lurking in the tree lines, he's been tapping my calls, he's been messing with my bank accounts and being a general all-round pain in the posterior. I was wondering when you would come into the picture.”

  “I've been b
usy,” Zora explained.

  “Locked up somewhere, no doubt.”

  “Not as locked up as you might think.”

  “Oh really?” Tex inclined his head. “They didn't lock you up this time? How did they make you stay put for so long? Chain you to a radiator?”

  “Treated me like a human being, actually,” Zora said. “It's surprisingly effective.”

  “Is it?” Tex waved a dismissive hand. “Sounds boring to me. I certainly won't be making that mistake.”

  “No? What mistake will you be making? Aside from locking me up, of course. That never works out.”

  Tex narrowed his eyes at her. “My first mistake was in trusting you an inch. My second was in sending people after you. You three evaded dozens of my men without any effort at all...”

  “Oh!” Zora interrupted. “So that was you, in Detroit?”

  “It was,” Tex said. “I sent teams after you all with orders to shoot the three of you on sight.” He waved a dismissive hand. “I was a little more irritated back then. I see the humor in the situation now. You two managed to escape, and yet you're both back here. Moths to the proverbial flame. It's almost as if you never left at all. Funny really, isn't it?” He beamed with dark humor. “There was never any need to chase you at all.”

  With a thoroughly sunken heart, Zora realized she'd walked right into Tex's trap. It had never been a trap for Savage. It had been a trap for her. And she'd run headlong into it. Like a damn fool.

  “I hate you so damn much,” she bit out.

  “I know. It's charming,” Tex drawled. He cast his hand out in a circular gesture. “What do you think about this nice cell?”

  “I think I am going to break the hell out of here as soon as possible.”

  “Oh no no no,” Tex said, tutting as he shook his head. “I'm not going to let that happen again. I've already alerted my men, so if you so much as try to escape, someone will put a bullet in you.”

  “Harsh.”

  “Harsh works, Zora.”