Tex's Revenge: Military Discipline, Book Two

by Loki Renard

  “Escort Miss Matthews back to her hospital bed and make sure she stays there would you?” Tex gave the order.

  “Yes sir.” Sanders took the back of her wheelchair and wheeled her back to the ward without saying another word. Zora maintained a similar silence though hers rose from a deep sulk nobody particularly cared about.

  When they regained the hospital wing Sanders stopped the chair in front of her metal framed padded prison. “In bed.” Even missing the imperative, it was clearly an order.

  “No.”

  Her refusal was met with swift action. He scooped her out of the chair and put her down on the bed with one more solid word. “Stay.”

  “Wuff.”

  There was no reaction on his face at all. She wondered what must have happened to him to make him so blank. Had he been born that way? Giving up on getting any reaction from the man ever, she feigned sleep until he went out of the room. She reckoned he'd probably have stationed himself by the door. For fun, Zora pressed the call button then sat in bed and listened to Sanders and the nurse argue over whether or not she needed to go in. Sanders prevailed, as she suspected he might and the nurse was turned away.

  Half an hour or so later sleep still evaded her so she decided to climb out the window. They were on the ground floor and she was still dressed. It hurt her leg like hell to do so much movement, but she was being powered by spite and spite is a far more powerful motivator than pain. Once outside in the flower bed, she dragged herself around to the front door and knocked, causing great consternation to security when they discovered the disheveled woman standing unexpectedly outside like a sod stained specter.

  Fortunately one of the team recognized her and Tex was called from his bed once more. He looked tired and irritable. She almost felt sorry for him. Almost. Muttering noises about how nobody could be trusted to do a simple job he picked her up and carried her back to her bed himself. He put her down quite a bit more firmly than Sanders had and pointed a finger at her. “If you move out of that bed again, I'm going to have you cuffed to it.”

  “Just let Johnny watch me and there won't be a problem,” she said sweetly.

  There was a sigh of annoyance and then, against all odds, she got her way. “Fine,” he said. “But remember, you're not the only one you'll get in trouble if you insist on acting like a little idiot.”

  “That's a bit harsh.”

  “I haven't begun to show you harsh.” Tex let the threat hang as he walked away.

  Johnny showed up a few minutes later. She was glad to see that he didn't seem to be any the worse for wear. “You asked for me? Why?”

  She put on a concerned face.“I figured they'd probably do something nasty to you if I didn't.”

  It didn't fool him for a second. His friendly smile spread wide across his face. “Admit it, you missed me.”

  He sat back in the chair and propped his feet up on the edge of the mattress. It made a small heavy weighted dip which made Zora feel very comfortable and safe, or at least less alone in the world. “I can't believe you spoke to him like that,” she said in a sleepy mutter.

  “To Tex?” Johnny grinned. “It's fun winding him up. He's such a square.”

  “A square? The sixties called, they want their vocabulary back.”

  “Hey, if the shape fits,” Johnny shrugged.

  “I'm surprised he allows it.”

  “He probably wouldn't if it weren't the middle of the night, if we hadn't been alone and up after dark. He can be a softie sometimes.”

  “He's never been soft to me,” Zora said, shifting onto her side to gaze at Johnny with curious eyes. “Does he hit you?”

  Johnny tilted his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean does he hit you if you're bad?”

  “He wouldn't get very far if he went around hitting the men here,” Johnny replied, his lips twisting at the idea. “Mr Tex is many things, but he is not a fighter.”

  Zora inspected Johnny. Yeah, he wasn't tall but he was pretty solid and there was a dynamic energy about him that gave her the distinct impression he wasn't likely to submit to anyone easily. “He hits me,” she admitted.

  Johnny's expression darkened. “He hits you how?”

  “Well he... he uhm...” She looked for words in her brain that would impart the message without being so terribly embarrassing. “Hits my ass.”

  “He hits.. your ass...” Johnny repeated the words slowly. “You mean he spanks you?”

  “Yeah.” Zora buried her face in her pillows.

  “And you let him?”

  She lifted her head up and gave him a look. “I don't exactly have a lot of choice. He might not be a fighter, but he's bigger than me.”

  “Girl, you don't have to be bigger to stop someone from hitting you.” Johnny's frown alone told Zora that he didn't approve of what he was hearing. “You need to stand up for yourself.”

  “Yeah, that's not really worked out for me lately,” Zora said, shaking her head. He couldn't possibly understand what she'd been through. She'd stood up for herself plenty and it always ended badly.

  “I'll help you,” he offered.

  “How?”

  “I'll teach you how to stop yourself from getting hit at the very least. I would have thought your Savage would have done that.”

  “I don't think he wants me knowing that either.” Zora noticed that Johnny had mentioned Savage's name without her ever having made reference to him. Obviously Johnny knew more than he was letting on.

  Johnny's eyes narrowed. “He hits you too?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “Zora.” The disappointment in Johnny's voice was real. “No. That's not okay.”

  “It's probably better than the bullets I would have gotten otherwise.”

  He tilted his head towards the lower half of her body. “You mean like the one you have in your leg?”

  “This was from someone who'd never hit me.” She tried a wry smile. “You see, if they spank me then they don't shoot me.”

  “It's not an either or,” Johnny said, rolling his eyes.

  “It might be.”

  “I haven't done either.”

  “You've only known me for five minutes. You'll do one or the other eventually.” She was kidding really, but a little part of her thought it might be true. As laid back and smart mouthed as he was, Johnny was doing a job. He wasn't on her side anymore than Tex was, not really.

  “Give me a little more credit than that. Or at least the benefit of the doubt,” Johnny said, shaking his head. “So jaded for one so young.”

  She grinned. “We both know I'm not young.”

  “You're not old enough to be this cynical, grandma.”

  “Careful whippersnapper. You'll be the one getting beaten,” she shook her fist at him.

  “Oh no,” Johnny shook his head vehemently. “That shit would not fly with me. And it won't fly with you either once I'm done with you.”

  “Okay, you can fix me tomorrow,” Zora yawned. “Right now I'm tired.”

  “Go to sleep,” Johnny smiled. “I'll watch your back.”

  Johnny turned out the light and returned to his position leaning back in the chair, his feet on the bed. Secure with his comforting presence nearby, Zora soon fell into a deep sleep.

  * * *

  Sand. More sand. And sorrow.

  Savage stood watchfully above an open air chamber in which a raucous party was taking place. Below his feet men and women danced and twirled and drank and snorted white stuff that wasn't sugar. He was being used, more or less, as a living Ken doll. The rifle in his arms was as oversized as it was impractical for the purposes of standing around looking imposing. The OCIW M-29 could kill a man hiding behind a two foot thick concrete wall, assuming you could heft it into place in time. Repeated sweeps and analysis had revealed that there were no hostile forces anywhere in the vicinity, the Sheik, a young man barely twenty years old had employed the team mostly for the purposes of looking impressive.

 
It was impossible not to resent being pulled away from Zora simply to stroke the ego of some coddled brat. He strongly suspected Tex knew that the mission was little more than busy work. What was the man planning? He believed the man when he said he wasn't romantically interested in Zora, but there was definitely something going on there. Tex wanted him out of the way.

  Was it simply to prove a point? Or was there something else going on? Savage wracked his brains, frustrated by the distance whilst dancing girls clad in muslin clothing that left nothing to the imagination cavorted under his nose in an enticing display.

  A man in black fatigues and aviator sunglasses approached from his left side. “Sir.”

  Savage answered without turning to the soldier. “Yes?”

  “You asked for news on Ms Matthews.”

  That made him turn his head. “Has something happened?”

  “She was shot a week ago. Minor wound.”

  Savage's jaw went hard. “Why was I not informed earlier?”

  “It was classified, sir.”

  “Classified?”

  “Need to know only. Only just trickled through the vine now.”

  “Here,” Savage said, thrusting the oversized weapon into the young man's arms. “Hold this.” He strode away from his post, leaving nothing but dusty haze in his wake.

  * * *

  Johnny and Zora quickly became inseparable, the sort of friends who didn't even bother to finish their own sentences because they knew the other would understand without all those unnecessary extra words. True to his word, Johnny showed her a few tricks for getting people to back off, some of them not even requiring all that much strength or effort. Most of them involved poking and breaking things that didn't like to be poked and broken.

  “That's sort of underhand, don't you think?” Zora asked, her face screwed up after a demonstration of something particularly nasty.

  “The world can be underhand. You do what you need to do to keep your head above water, you hear me?” Johnny had gone serious. He didn't often go serious, but when he did it was like looking into a pool so dark you couldn't see the bottom. She didn't probe him however. She let him have his secrets, just like he let her have hers.

  “When are you going to go out again?”

  Johnny's question caught her off guard. “What?”

  “To the city. You still haven't done any shopping.”

  “People shoot me in the city.”

  “One person shot you once. I'll go with you. Keep the bullets off you.” He put on his best encouraging face.

  Zora shook her head doubtfully. “Tex probably wouldn't let me.”

  “Let's ask.”

  Zora agreed, figuring there was no way in hell Tex would ever agree to it. He'd been quite clear she should stay in the compound. To her great surprise, Tex didn't say no when they traipsed into his office to ask him. “I don't see why not,” he said, barely glancing up from his work. “As long as you go in your down time. John has work to do.”

  “Yessir,” Johnny saluted. “Thank you sir.”

  “Thanks,” Zora tried to smile, but her expression wasn't nearly as bright as it should have been. “What about Anja and the bullets?”

  “It's been taken care of,” Tex said in an offhand way that didn't give her much peace of mind.

  “How?”

  “It's been taken care of,” he repeated himself.

  “Well forgive me if I don't quite believe you,” Zora snapped. “You...

  She was cut off by Johnny putting his arm around her and clamping his hand over her mouth. “What she's trying to say is 'thank you',” he said, keeping a hold of her whilst she struggled.

  “Dismissed,” Tex snapped. He seemed irritated. He seemed irritated and distant a great deal of late, which was no real skin off Zora's nose because it meant she wasn't getting hit.

  Johnny let go of her once they were well clear of the offices. “It's like you want to cause trouble,” he said, rubbing the palm of his hand on his pant leg to clean it of Zora's spittle.

  “I just don't trust him,” she said. “And I've got no reason to either.”

  “So you're just going to sit here and rot?”

  “Maybe I will.” Her defiance was absolute and try as Johnny might to cajole and tease her into a better mood, she resisted all his efforts until he finally gave up and left her alone.

  * * *

  A week later she was still walking with a limp. Though her leg was healing steadily, a bullet to the thigh was nothing to be shrugged off. The knowledge that someone hated her enough to want to actually killed her had wormed into her brain and was leeching through her consciousness, changing things little by little without her really being aware of it. One thing that she was aware of however, was her growing loathing for Tex. She managed to hold it together thinking that she would soon see Savage again, but when Savage's return date came and went without the man showing up, she went to Tex's office to make forceful inquiries.

  “Where is he?” She slammed her palm down on Tex's desk. “You promised he would be back.”

  Without looking up from his work, Tex frowned. “Go back to your room.”

  Staring at the top of his head only served to irritate her more. “No, I'm not going anywhere until you give me answers.”

  “Go. To. Your. Room.” Tex lifted his eyes to her. There was no genteel patience in his gaze as there had been in the past. He was hard and cold. His gaze alone made her recoil from the desk a step or two, but it did not make her retreat.

  “I want to know what's going on.”

  “What's going on is that you're interrupting me and disobeying orders. If you continue to do so, you will regret it.”

  A slow smirk spread over Zora's lips. “I don't think so.”

  “Zora!” Tex's voice snapped through her sharp as a whip. “Go before you get hurt.”

  “You can't hurt me anymore,” she said, cocky.

  With a growl of annoyance, Tex pushed back his chair and made towards her. She let him come. Johnny had prepared her for the moment and as Tex laid his hand on her wrist she she grabbed towards his inner thigh, catching a pinch of skin high on his leg. She pinched and twisted hard. She'd never heard Tex make a sound of pain before, but his shout of agony and surprise was like music to her ears. He dropped her like a hot coal and she tumbled to the ground, her weaker leg giving way.

  “Not enjoying being on the wrong side of the pain?” She taunted him from the floor. “Don't you ever hit me again.”

  Tex reached for her and hauled her up from the floor with almost no effort at all. She'd forgotten how strong he was. “Johnny!” She screamed for all she was worth. “Johnny it's not working!”

  “He can't help you now,” Tex snarled, pressing her face down over the table. He leaned over her, pressing her down with his torso as he hissed into her ear. “And don't think he will either. If he tries I'll send him to the other side of the world. Afghanistan is nice this time of year. Maybe Syria. Or perhaps Libya. So many little countries dotted here and there.”

  “No,” Zora's eyes widened. She flailed around and found something against her hand – the butt of Tex's pistol. It seemed to slip into her grip and before she knew what was happening, her finger was curling around the trigger.

  She didn't know if she was trying to shoot Tex or not, but the sound of the gun firing was louder than she realized it would be. The bullet missed both of them and thunked solidly through the carpeted floor. Both she and Tex froze momentarily, silently acknowledging the near miss they'd had.

  Almost immediately the door of Tex's office slammed open as several men rushed in. One of them was Johnny, but he was at the back of the pack. She could barely make out his expression of concern amidst all the others.

  “We heard a shot fired.”

  “Accidental discharge,” Tex said, standing with his hand on Zora's shoulder. Both had forced, fake plastic expressions on their face, Zora because she did not want Johnny to know how dark things had gotten, and Tex be
cause he didn't want his subordinates knowing how close he'd come to being shot by a woman. “You can return to your posts.”

  The men withdrew, leaving them facing one another. Tex's anger had faded into an expression of focused interest. “So you would shoot me, would you?”

  Zora bit her lip and remained silent. What sort of answer was there for a question like that?

  Tex didn't seem put off by her silence. He was too consumed with what he had to say and he said it leaning over towards her, his voice a low rumble of threat. “Need I remind you that I am the one who liberated you from your life in a shack? The one who has done his best to make sure that you are comfortable? I've even employed your man so that you two can have something of a life together.”

  She looked up and met his eyes. “You've done that all for your own ends. Don't act like you're doing me a favor. You're playing a game.”

  “Am I?” Tex's chuckle was soft. “I don't think so. I think this is very simple. You do as you're told. Brett Savage does as he's told. Everyone has a nice time. But neither of you can seem to manage that.”

  Her ears pricked up, or would have done if she were a puppy and not a person. “Neither of us? What's he done?”

  Tex's face was all hard planes of frustration. “That's immaterial.”

  “Is that why he isn't here?” Zora allowed herself a small smile. “Is your little pigeon not returning to the loft the way you planned it?”

  “For your sake you better hope that's not the case,” Tex's answering smile was smaller and colder still. It was barely a smile, more a perversion of what a smile might be. “I don't have an awful lot of use for... people like you.”

  The words were innocuous, but there was so much derision in the sneer that Zora felt as if she'd been slapped across the face. Without another word she turned and walked out of Tex's office. She didn't see the way the tall man slumped into his desk chair when the door closed behind her, though she would probably have enjoyed the way he hissed between his teeth as he rubbed his inner thigh where her punishing pinch had found its gripping place.