The Satan's Savages Series Box Set

by K E Osborn

  Mad Dog smiles and nods as Techie drags Marco down to the Prez. He stands in front of him and his eyes are wide with fear. “You Ingratos bastards think you can come in and take from us. Now find out what it feels like to have everything taken from you.” Mad Dog spits in his face, the line of saliva rolls down Marco’s cheek as he nods to Techie, who pulls Marco by his hair out toward the cages.

  “Right, let’s finish this,” Mad Dog demands turning toward the nearest bedroom door.

  My chest squeezes tight at the fact I’m about to kill someone. But if I try to put a spin on it this man is a bad person, he works for the Mexican Cartel and is more than likely a murdering rapist scum sucking arse scraper who deserves everything he’s about to get.

  Taking a deep breath and straightening my shoulders, I open the door. Peering into the room, I see the man sleeping soundly in his bed. Walking slowly up to him, I notice the full grown Mexican man is fucking sucking on his thumb. This guy’s a disgrace. Shaking my head with no remorse at all, which sends a shiver down my spine, I bring up my gun and aim right at his chest. The gun reflects back in my hand as I fire off twice, the low groan of the silencer sending a small whoosh through the air. His eyes open wide as he clings to his chest. A slight gurgling sound resonates through the room as blood trickles out of his mouth and the sheets he’s lying on turn red. I watch as his eyes lose focus and soon close, as his body relaxes and his hand falls off the edge of the bed.

  Taking a deep breath, I nod knowing I’ve done my duty. I don’t know this man, he may have been an innocent in Mad Dog’s war against the Cartel, but if I want to be a brother and keep up this façade then I need to play my part. Even though I don’t think any part of me is playing right now. Deep down, I was made for this shit. The thrill of the kill, the scent of the metallic twang of blood—it excites me and it scares the hell out of me all at the same time.

  I’m a cop.

  Or am I?

  I don’t know anymore.

  Turning around I high-tail it out of there, making it to the hallway to see Crash and Mad Dog all smiling, so I know they’ve successfully 86’d their men too. We meet in the hall, and for a place that’s becoming a killing field, there’s not a lot of noise going on. You’d think there would be at least some fight back, but there’s nothing. We came in completely undetected and we lucked out because there’s minimal men and what seems like little resistance or security.

  It appears we may have actually won this battle.

  The war, though?

  I think that’s only brewing.

  I bump into Crash as we walk back out to the main room. He brings his gun up and I clink mine with his, and we both chuckle as we enter the expanse. Most of our other brothers are already congregated here. Behemoth and Penetrator walk in and we’re all accounted for.

  “Mad Dog smiles and nods. “So every room’s been swept?”

  We all nod. He grins rubbing his hands together, as Techie fiddles on his tablet. Marco is on his knees by his side, still bound and gagged.

  “Prez, one more thing, I’ve tapped into their in-house security feed. They have a basement, and I think you’re going to want to see what’s down there.” Techie looks up at us all with a frown.

  Mad Dog looks to me and Behemoth and nods. “You two, follow me.”

  We storm with him, looking around the room for the location of the basement. I notice a black door off to the left, but doesn’t seem to lead to anywhere on first appearances.

  “Prez, could be this one?” I announce and he nods. So I slowly turn the handle and open the door. Darkness filters into my eyes and I squint trying to see. Moving my hand in along the wall, I search for a switch and find one flicking it on. A staircase immediately comes to view, so I turn back and Mad Dog nods.

  Taking my first step down, I notice the humidity rise and temperature becoming hotter. This is obviously closer to their labs. Behemoth follows me as we traipse down the stairs. The walls on either side of the stairs blocks my view of what’s going to greet me. When I arrive at the final step, the pungent smell of dope smacks me in the face so hard I have to steady myself to function properly. Rounding the corner, I notice a giant metal cage, and when I say giant, I mean it takes up most of the room. Inside is an array of women, some in their thirties, some in their twenties and some a hell of a lot younger, way too young to be in a place like this. They’re all cowering into each other hiding in a corner of the cage—dirty and almost naked. Some more than others, but mainly they’re wearing torn and revolting underwear. My chest tightens and I shake my head looking at Behemoth, who’s frowning and swallowing hard.

  “Have you come to hurt us, too?” a young girl asks.

  Fuck! She’s probably only ten, maybe eleven at the most.

  “Y-25, shush,” another lady berates dragging the child back to her and holding the girl against her scantily clad body.

  “What the fuck?” I murmur under my voice. Stepping toward the cage, the girls all whimper and step back away from me. I raise my hands in surrender and shake my head. “I’m not here to hurt you ladies, I promise,” I assure them. “Behemoth, you better get the Prez down here.”

  He nods and turns rushing back up the stairs at lightning speed. His heavy footsteps are the loudest noise I’ve heard since we arrived here.

  “How long have you all been here?” I ask.

  They look at one another and breathe harshly, but no one talks. These poor women are so damaged.

  “It’s okay, I promise you’re safe with me. All those sick fucks upstairs, they’re all gone,” I inform them. Instantly, their eyes all open wide and they gasp. Some start crying and others are visibly shaking. What the hell have they been through?

  “I’ve been with the Ingratos since I was ten,” one lady states. The bags under her eyes look like they’ve been there for years, and her sunken in face and tiny stature make me shiver with the thought of how old she really is.

  “How old are you now?”

  She stiffens and takes a deep breath. “Thirty-four.”

  Swallowing hard, heat builds inside of me bubbling to the surface ready to explode at any minute. I’m more than happy we ended these fuckers tonight. This is disgusting.

  “You’ve been here… in this cage… for twenty-four years?” my voice cracks as I speak.

  She nods and pulls two girls out from behind her. “And my daughters have been here for ten and twelve years.”

  My stomach twists. “They were born here?”

  She nods. “Conceived… not willingly. Carried to full term, born and raised here.”

  My face contorts as my fists clench tightly. Turning, I face away from the women. Bile creeps up in my stomach, and for the first time in a long time, I feel like I actually want to cry like a blubbering fool.

  “Are you here to help us?” she asks, breaking me from my moment.

  Turing back to face her, I nod. “Yes, we’re going to help you. What’s your name?”

  She shrugs. “S-19.”

  Furrowing my brows I shake my head slightly. “S-19?”

  “It was the designation given to me when I came in. The letter refers to the skill set, and the number is my number in that skill set. I’m the nineteenth in S. I’ve been known as that ever since I was brought here. I can’t even remember my real name.”

  Clenching my jaw as I breathe harshly out of my nose, I shake my head. “And there’s a skill set for every letter of the alphabet?”

  She nods and swallows hard.

  “So let me get this right. There’re twenty-six skill sets. So, at least, twenty-six different women. And then there’s numbers under each letter. Is there more than nineteen in your skill set?”

  A tear falls down her cheek as she nods. I clench my eyes tightly, thinking of how many women have come through the gates of hell down here, even looking now there’s got to be at least forty to fifty women and children locked down here. Anger seethes through me, as my knuckles crack like gunfire sounding through the ro
om, as I clench them tight. My teeth squeak as I grind them together. Not being able to hold it in any longer, I turn facing the pylon nearest me and smash my fist right into the brick. My knuckles crack as the mortar flies from the structure and the pain radiates down through my wrist. Jumping from foot to foot, I wave my hand through the air as Mad Dog and Behemoth come down the stairs.

  “What are you dancing like a fool for, Stealth?” Mad Dog asks.

  “Sorry, just had a disagreement with the wall.”

  He chuckles as I take a calming breath and look back at S-19 and then back to Mad Dog. “Prez, these women are slaves. We have to let them go, take them back to the club, feed them, clothe them, help them find some sort of life. Please, Prez? I don’t ask for much, but I’m asking this. Let’s help these women and children, they don’t deserve to be caged up sex slaves like this.”

  He turns looking at the woman in the cage and huffs.

  “You all sex slaves?” he asks.

  S-19 steps forward and nods. “Yes, sir, amongst other things.”

  He exhales looking down at her two little girls clinging to her naked legs. “What about them?”

  She sniffs and swallows hard. “Marco’s favourites, S-27 and S-28.”

  Mad Dog stiffens and shakes his head. “Don’t worry ladies, you’re safe with us. Behemoth, get that fucking cage open, now!”

  Smiling, I nod my head at the Prez. “Thank you.”

  He lifts his chin and walks back up the stairs. I step over to the cage to help Behemoth with the lock. He’s studying it carefully and I shake my head.

  “Stand back, Behemoth. Girls, you too.” Everyone stands back and I pull out my gun and shoot at the lock. Shards of metal fly everywhere as sparks shoot off in all directions, but the lock disintegrates and disengages. Behemoth steps in pulling at the gate to open it. The women all stand there not knowing what to do, but I place my hand out and S-19 looks a bit hesitant. I smile and nod, then she takes my hand wrapping her free one around her two girls. We start to walk out of this fucking hellhole, a place where even nightmares have nightmares.

  Racing up the stairs, I stand at the top as Mad Dog ushers all the women and children outside and down toward our cages. The smell of ganja is still lingering in the air, and I couldn’t help but notice the hydroponics lab set up next to the cage of women. They were probably half stoned all the time. This place will torment me for a while, that’s for sure.

  We all make it outside, and get the women and children in safely. They’re all shaken, but seem to be excited at the thought of being free from the fucking Ingratos that have held them captive. Some of them for decades, some as fresh as a week ago, but either way in my eyes we’ve done a good deed tonight. We rescued the damsels in distress that we didn’t know needed fucking rescuing, and we killed the fuckers that are making everyone’s lives a misery.

  Win–fucking–win!

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  As we all walk into the clubhouse we have a spring in our step, and I feel lighter somehow knowing the Ingratos will be off our backs now, and we’ve saved all those women and children from a life they should never have lived. Of course, in the back of my mind, I can’t help but think of the ramifications of taking out the Cartel’s lackeys, and how this shitstorm is going to rain down on us eventually. But that’s going to have to wait for another day. The women and children are all huddled in the clubrooms talking to the club girls, who’ve given them some clothes to wear and Boiler is making them a feast to eat.

  The guys are all celebrating as we managed to take out the Ingratos, every single one of them—excluding Marco, who’s now safely in the Chop Shop. I can’t help but notice Lookout talking to some of the women we rescued, and I’m fairly certain he’s talking to them about becoming club girls.

  Always the recruiter.

  Aimie is looking after the younger street girls, the ones who have been kidnapped recently and weren’t born in captivity, so we can figure out where we can drop them off or what they want to do.

  After talking to S-19 on the way back to the clubhouse, she told us the Ingratos were stealing girls off the streets, kidnapping them from a young age, keeping them locked up and placing them in their skill set. All the girls were used for sex, but their skill set was assigned to other things, mundane things like cooking or cleaning, to the horrible like childbearing or cleaning up the blood and gore when they tortured someone. They were taken, held against their will, and unlike our club girls who choose to be here, they didn’t have an option or choice in the matter. They were basically raped daily against their will and forced into a life of slavery. These women and girls will never be the same, and I for one am as glad as fuck we got them out.

  “Stealth, round two?” Mad Dog calls out and I furrow my brows in confusion. He chuckles and tilts his head toward the Chop Shop. “Marco… Help us get the Intel from him?”

  Nodding, I take a deep breath and swallow knowing that round two in the torture chamber will probably be just as interesting as round one. Moving over toward Mad Dog, he slaps my shoulder as I glance over to Skye, who’s talking with S-19 and she smiles at me, giving me a slight sense of comfort before the inevitable bloodbath I’m about to witness.

  “C’mon, let’s get our interrogation hats on.” Mad Dog wraps his arm around my shoulders and pulls me toward the staircase as the neon sign glows brightly above the entry way. Relaxing my shoulders as we walk down the narrow staircase, our footsteps sounding heavy on the concrete steps, I turn to look at Mad Dog, who’s smiling enthusiastically.

  “So Marco… is he going to spill the beans, do you think?”

  Mad Dog shrugs. “In a way, I hope not. That way we get to cause more pain. But in saying that, I want to know about José, who he’s working for and how we can get control back of our streets.”

  Nodding as we get to the door, Mad Dog opens it and music is playing as we walk through. It’s not loud but it is menacing with a heavy drum beat, ripping guitars and a singer who sounds like he’s dying. Furrowing my brows, wondering why the hell Chops would be playing something like this, I look at the metal chair to see Marco naked and restrained in the seat as expected.

  “Ah, you’re here, just in time to start the fun,” Chops announces as Marco rolls his eyes and turns to look at us.

  “What the fuck is this music, Chops?”

  He smirks. “Burning the Masses by Malevolent Retrospect. It has a certain je-ne-se-qua, don’t you think?”

  Mad Dog chuckles shaking his head and walks up in front of Marco, who looks at him and turns up his lip. “Marco, it’s nice to meet you, I’m Mad Dog. This here is Chops, and that over there is Stealth. We’d like to welcome you to our humble abode.”

  Marco moves his jaw from side to side and then spits right at Mad Dog’s feet. Mad Dog looks down to the spitball that’s just barely missed his boot and he takes in a deep breath, looking back up at Marco with a rage in his eyes as his nostrils flare out. The vein in his neck protrudes and pulses, as his fist clenches. He brings it up slamming right into the side of Marco’s face. His head jolts to the side as he groans slightly with the crack.

  Marco slowly brings his head back to the front and a small smile crosses his face. “You think you can beat me and I’ll give you anything you want? You killed my men, all of them. You took my chicas, you probably burnt my hangout to the ground, and you expect me to just sit here and talk esé?” He chuckles slightly. “You’re loco. You may as well kill me now ‘cause I ain’t going to be telling you shit, hombre.” Marco licks his top teeth and smirks at Mad Dog, who tilts his head to the side smirking right back.

  “You think you admitting that you won’t tell us anything is going to make us kill you quickly?”

  Marco shrugs. “It’s no skin off my nose, do what you want. I’m dead anyway, right?”

  Chops chuckles and gleams at Mad Dog like an excited child. “Can I, Prez? Can I, please?”

  Raising an eyebrow, I wonder what Chops is on about and Mad Dog laugh
s. “You take everything so literally don’t you VP?” Mad Dog replies.

  Chops grins, nods and pulls over the trolley covered with a blue cloth. He pulls back the material revealing the stainless steel instruments, and this time it doesn’t startle me.

  It excites me, and that startles me.

  Taking a deep breath at the fact that I like this shit way more than I should, I watch as Chops pulls up an instrument that looks like one of those tools the nail ladies use at the salons to shave off the dead skin from your feet. I only know that because I went with Hannah once to watch the twins while she had a pedi-something-or-other. It suddenly clicks as to what Mad Dog was saying about Chops taking everything literally. Marco said, ’It’s no skin off my nose.’

  Shit!

  As the heavy metal music continues to grate my ears, Chops moves in as Mad Dog strolls up behind Marco’s chair grabbing the head restraint. Mad Dog catches Marco’s head from behind and he thrashes about in the chair. Standing back, my heart leaps into my throat as I watch Mad Dog trying to grab Marco’s head and place it in the strap. He’s not holding still enough, so I hoof it over and bring my fist up and slam it right into Marco’s ribs. He lets out a massive gust of air stopping all movements as Mad Dog quickly places the restraint over his forehead.

  Mad Dog looks to me and smirks. “Thanks, brother.”

  I nod. Marco’s chest is heaving as he glances at me sideways. “You’re nothing but a minion to them, you know that right?” Marco jibes.

  Raising my eyebrow, I tilt my head and smirk. “I might be a minion, but who’s the one strapped to a chair about to get a layer of skin scraped off his nose?”

  Marco’s eyes widen and he tries to shake his head, but it won’t budge in the restraint. “What do you mean a layer of skin scraped off my nose, esé?”