Savages Recruit (3 page)

Chapter Two

As he lingered in the hallway waiting for Zora Matthews to make herself presentable, Savage began to doubt the wisdom of his decision to recruit her. This was a sensitive mission. It wasn't the place for a civilian, let alone one given to fits of screaming profanity at the slightest provocation. Even if he put her astoundingly rude behavior aside, there were other concerns. She seemed like a total wreck in every respect and he was beginning to suspect that she had a drinking problem. Not only had her file revealed several minor brushes with the law on long drunken nights out, but it was well after mid day and he'd been able to smell the stale beer on her breath. It was a pity really, if she cleaned up a bit and dropped the attitude, she'd actually be quite presentable. The stained tank top and shorts she'd been wearing showed a neatly curvaceous figure he'd rather enjoyed.

“Should I check on her, sir?” Brian asked, rocking back and forth on his toes impatiently. Brian Black was one of the members of Savage's unit, a solid young man with a solid personality. He had seen action, but somehow his saucer like blue eyes and placid round features still managed to reflect an idealized innocence. Brian could be trusted with the secret of life itself, Savage reckoned.

Considering Brian's suggestion, he glanced at his watch and nodded. “Yeah, see how she's going.”

“Yessir!” After saluting out of habit, Brian knocked on the door and then stepped into the apartment when there was no response. “Ma'am?”

Savage could hear Brian's footsteps receding as he went deeper into the apartment.  “Ma'am?” Again the polite inquiry went unanswered. Somewhere inside the apartment, a door creaked open. Savage waited for the almost inevitable squeal of outrage and profanity. It didn't come. What came instead was a cry from Brian. “Ma... Sir!” Savage entered quickly and found Brian standing in the bedroom, pointing towards the open window. No explanation was needed, but Brian conscientiously gave one anyway. “She's not here, sir. It looks like she went out the fire escape.”

“Interesting,” Savage mused. Brian was looking at him with a stunned expression, awaiting his next orders. Zora's sudden disappearance added a new layer of complexity to the entire situation, that was for sure. Not only was she vocally volatile, she was apparently given to ill-considered impulsive acts as well. For a long moment, Savage considered scrapping the mission entirely, but some little voice told him that possibly, just possibly, the traits he was seeing displayed so rampantly could be tempered with a good dose of discipline. Better a brave operative who had to be taught to rein their impulses in than a timid one who froze under pressure.  He nodded to himself before giving Brian his orders. “Tell you what, seeing as Ms Matthews has vacated the apartment, why don't you take a look around and see if there's anything that might be of interest or use to us.”

Whilst Brian set to work, Savage retrieved a pair of leather gloves from his pocket and put them on. Looking around the apartment more comprehensively, he had the opportunity to get a better sense of the departed Ms Matthews. She was messy, but she was also fairly minimalistic. The usual knick knacks and throw pillows women often decorated their living spaces with were missing. The walls were bare too, there wasn't a scrap of art in the place, not even a poster tacked to the bare plaster. In the kitchenette, the contents of the fridge revealed something of a bachelorette personality. A case of beer took up most of the space inside the little one person unit. Aside from that there was some milk, half a block of cheese and an almost empty bottle of ketchup, nothing else. The freezer section was full of 'heat and eat' rubbish meals and judging by the plastic film on the counter-top with congealed mince on it, they were her primary food source.

“There's nothing of any real note, sir,” Brian reported from the other room. “I found some bills and receipts, but nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Okay,” Savage said, taking another glance around the apartment. He was struck by how much it seemed as if Zora didn't actually live there. She stayed there clearly, but the touches of homeliness were few and far between. Even the furniture was bland and he guessed that it had probably come with the apartment. “Then we wait.”

“Wait, sir?”

Savage nodded. Though Zora had made a stupid decision, he doubted she'd taken off to South America. “She got spooked. She'll be back. In the meantime, we wait for that to happen and get us something better suited to surveillance.” The two men let themselves out of the apartment and retired downstairs. Savage hoped that Zora was lurking somewhere nearby, waiting for them to leave so she could go back inside and resume nursing her hangover.

Less than half an hour later, Savage and Brian were back. They parked quite brazenly across the street from the apartment in a truck marked 'Terry's Fish Supplies'. It was rusted and worn on the outer edges and only the sharpest of eyes would have suspected from looking at the exterior that it was anything other than a run of the mill delivery truck. The interior was a different matter. It was outfitted with a range of equipment including directional microphones and monitors that allowed the inhabitants to see and hear what was going on for quite some distance. As an additional precaution, they'd ditched their uniforms in favor of casual civilian clothing. It was obvious that Zora had no intention of co-operating and it would be much easier to catch her unawares if they blended in with the general public.

“Let's hope she wasn't too spooked,” Savage said as they settled into their stakeout. It was a warm day and the interior of the truck quickly began to get quite hot. Ventilation had been provided for the computers, but evidently ventilation for the operators was not considered to be nearly as important. Minutes passed into hours and he and Brian took turns keeping an eye on the apartment and its main entrance. Several people came and went, but none of them matched Zora's build.

By dinner time Savage and Brian were breaking into rations and swapping stories about other stakeouts they'd been on. When the sun finally set around eight pm, Zora was still nowhere to be seen - much to Savage's chagrin. It was taking a great deal longer to pick her up than he'd planned. He glared at the monitor, willing the woman to come home. Already she was far more trouble than he'd anticipated. His palms tingled with a familiar itch when he thought about the way she'd spoken to him. She was so thoughtlessly rude it stunned him. How she'd managed to get to her age and remain such a spoiled brat was quite the mystery, but there was no way he'd allow that behavior to continue once he found her.

Visions of the curves of her bottom bouncing under the ministrations of his palm danced through his head, placating him for the moment. She might think she was leading him a merry chase, but she would discover the error of her ways sooner rather than later. Savage was an old fashioned man in many respects. He would never hit a woman in anger, but he was a firm believer that a badly behaved lady always benefited from a good spanking and Ms Zora Matthews was one of the most badly behaved women he had ever encountered. He was very much looking forward to making the pleasure of her foul mouthed acquaintance again.

Brian finally broke the tense silence that had settled over the truck.“Maybe we should go look for her?”

Savage stood up and did his best to stretch in the cramped conditions. He couldn't stand upright, which made getting comfortable almost impossible. His neck was getting one heck of a crick in it. “Where do you suggest?”

Brian leafed through the profile Ethan had put together. “She's got a few friends in this area, and there's a coffee shop she's known to frequent according to cell records.” He looked up expectantly, hoping for his idea to be met with approval.

“No,” Savage shook his head. “I don't want everybody who knows her to remember two men looking for her just before she disappears. We need to get her out of here without being noticed.”

Brian nodded.“So this is going to be an extended grab?” The phrase referred to an operation in which the target did not return to their normal lives for a long time, perhaps forever.

Shrugging, Savage sat back down. It was far too early to tell what the outcome was going to be. After almost twelve hours they hadn't even managed to get their hands on her for a quick chat. “All going well, yeah. It depends on whether or not she's as useful as she seems to be.”

Brian nodded solemnly. “This isn't going to be easy for her. She's not the usual type.”

Rubbing his hand over his eyes, Savage had to agree. “Probably not. But these are the things we do.”

The next few hours were spent tediously, but Savage was a patient man and Brian was an obedient soldier. Neither showed their frustration or boredom. Eventually, at quarter to three in the morning, a stumbling figure approached the front of the building and started pawing at the keypad entry ineffectively.

“That has to be her,” Savage said, instantly moving from repose to action as a burst of adrenaline shot through his system. The two men made their way quickly and quietly out of the vehicle and moved towards the figure quite casually. They needn't have bothered at hiding their intention  however, she had clearly imbibed too much to care about the fact that she was being flanked by shadowy figures.

“Dammit, changing the code,” Zora muttered, stabbing the 0 key five times over.

Savage motioned for Brian to hang back before stepping forward and speaking in the most courteous tone he could muster. “Can I help you Ma'am?”

“I can't get in,” Zora groaned, resting her forehead against the door.

“Hey, you're Zora, right?” He adopted a more conversational, friendly tone.

“Yesh,” she glanced sidelong at him. He was relieved when the fog of incomprehension failed to lift from her gaze. She was so far gone she wouldn't have known him if he'd put his uniform on and played out the scene from earlier that day word for word. “Who are you?”

“Mike, remember? We met out drinking one night. Man, that was an awesome night!” Savage forced enthusiasm into his voice and succeeded in sounding as if getting plastered to the point of not knowing one's own name was something to be proud of.

“Oh. Yesh. Cool,” Zora drooled against the plexiglass.

Savage took the opportunity to lean in towards her and place a hand on her shoulder. With that physical contact, he had her. It didn't matter what happened now, she was coming with him. “I don't think this is your apartment though,” he said, planting a seed of confusion in her addled mind.

“Ish not?” She pushed back from the door and looked up at the building suspiciously.

He pointed in a random direction. “No, you live a couple of blocks from here, remember?”

“I do?” Zora appeared to think about that for a second as she gazed at his finger.

“Yeah,” Savage grinned. “This is Montgomery and fifth. You want Montgomery and eight.”

“Fuck,” she swore emphatically.

He laughed and squeezed her shoulder. “I can give you a ride if you want, me and my partner just finished work,” he offered.

“A ride?” A faint suggestion of suspicion passed over Zora's features, only to be replaced by an unmistakable wave of nausea. Savage got out of the way just in time to avoid the contents of her stomach being regurgitated at high pressure and speed onto the concrete. “Yeah, I guesh I could take a ride,” she slurred once her stomach was empty.

“Cool, right this way,” Savage offered her his arm and ended up shouldering most of her weight. She smelled foul, but at least she didn't offer very much resistance. By the time they got to the truck and helped her into the front seat, she was already slipping into what Savage knew would be a dammed heavy sleep.

With their cargo safely stowed in the center of the cab, Savage and Brian secured her by flanking her, Savage on the driver's size, Brian on the other. “Well that was a lot easier than it looked like it was going to be,” Brian said with a crooked smile.

“Sure was,” Savage agreed as he started the truck. “She's going to have a hell of a headache when she wakes up.”

Brian shook his head. “Kind of dumb to go drinking when you think somebody is on your tail.”

Savage was forced to agree, but he was hardly surprised. In his experience, smart people did stupid things all the time. In fact, smart people were sometimes more prone to doing stupid things than their dimmer counterparts. “I guess she didn't really think we were on her tail, I guess she thought she'd mess with us,” he surmised.

With a low groan, Zora slumped over in her seat and ended up with her head in Brian's lap. He looked down at her, his nose wrinkled in distaste.  Savage chuckled at his misfortune as they made for base. He was rather pleased with himself.  After all the waiting, it had been a very smooth capture indeed and now he had the foul mouthed Ms Matthews right where he wanted her.

***

Zora awoke to a bright light and a pounding sensation that was reminiscent of a gorilla trying to escape her skull. The stream of profanity that poured out of her mouth would have been enough to turn the air blue if profanity had such a power. She sat up gingerly, realizing that she had no idea where she was. At first this was not overly concerning. Zora often woke up in new and interesting places and most of the time she rather enjoyed the experience. Occasionally somebody would offer her breakfast or a cup of coffee.

Looking around at her surroundings, it seemed unlikely that she would be getting a cooked breakfast. The room was sterile white and the bed she laid on had the thinnest, most uncomfortably mattress in the world installed on it. Was she in jail? No, it was too clean a room for that and it was devoid of other desperate figures. She was entirely alone. Listening for some kind of clue, she heard nothing. The silence itself was unsettling in the extreme. Were the walls padded perhaps? Had she ended up in the loony bin? It seemed to be the most logical explanation. Looking down at herself she saw that she was no longer wearing her usual clothing. Her jeans and sweatshirt had been replaced with white scrubs. She looked like she came with the room, she thought to herself, momentarily distracted by her sense of the inane.