Savages Recruit (23 page)

“Of course sir.” The hostess flashed another broad smile and swept off to retrieve their liquid refreshments.

“I won't even bother to remind you about your promise about the drinking,” Zora said bitterly. Before  he could answer her with a litany of her most recent sins, she slipped the complimentary headphones over her ears and started fiddling with the entertainment system that folded out of the arm rest. To her delight it didn't just contain music and movies, but also video games with their very own console style controller. She soon lost herself in a world of pixels and polygons and barely paid any mind at all to what was going on around her as the plane lumbered down the runway and took to the sky with all the stolid dependability of a bus.

After an hour or so of slaughtering pixel people and taking liberal advantage of the complimentary candy, Zora's mood improved enough to allow her to acknowledge Savage's presence without snarling. She looked over and saw that he was reading a book. She'd not seen him read before and was mildly curious as to what kind of fiction might grab the man. Something military flavored she reckoned, maybe Clavell or Cussler or perhaps Clancy. When she leaned over for a closer look she was a little disappointed to see that it didn't seem to be fiction at all. There were complex diagrams and formulas inscribed on the pages, some of which made a little sense to her, others of which were completely beyond her grasp.

Interrupted by the shadow of her skull as it intruded in his reading light, Savage levered one of the earphones away from her head and inquired as to whether or not he could help her.

“Just wondering what you were reading,” she said, sitting back in her own seat.

He twisted his wrist to show her the cover. A Brief History of Time. “One of the most popular books nobody bothers to read,” he said with a smile. “This is my third attempt.”

“Trying to improve yourself with quantum theory?” Zora teased.

“In this chapter,” Savage said, ignoring Zora's little dig, “Dr Hawking makes an interesting point about the behavior of quantum particles being changed by observation.”

“Well it works for people, so why not quantum particles,” Zora said absently, drifting back into the game world which was far more interesting than anything quantum.

“Would that were true. You act up whether you're observed or not,” Savage said with a heavy sigh.

“Hey,” Zora shot him a quick glare. “I've been good lately. Actually, better than good. I've been great. Actually, better than great, I've been super.”

A thick brow rose. “You call kicking my chair and running away 'super', Ms Matthews?”

“I didn't say perfect,” Zora pointed out. “Maybe my natural state is one of misbehavior.”

“Maybe,” Savage allowed. “But I'm sure a state change can be achieved by frequent warming of certain areas.”

“A temporary state change at best,” Zora grinned at the pseudo nerdiness of their conversation. She was mildly surprised to discover that Savage wasn't all about muscle and discipline. It made sense, she supposed, he was certainly smart enough. Smarter than she was probably.

“Just as well I enjoy the warming process.” Something close to a leer passed over his features.

“Sadist.”

He smirked but did not reply and she didn't push the point. The air hostess was passing by with what seemed to be freshly baked scones and muffins. Zora decided to conduct her own scientific experiment and investigated the phenomenon of mile high baked goods very thoroughly by consuming several of each type with plenty of melted butter.

The tension between them temporarily put aside for the duration of time spent in the air, Zora and Savage happily snoozed, gamed, read  and gorged their way across the oceans and back to their homeland. Unfortunately, the almost idyllic atmosphere that had established itself in the glow of a successful mission and a comfortable flight dissipated the moment they landed in San Francisco on an uncommonly cold and rainy day.

As the plane's 'seat belt on' sign turned off for the final time, Zora looked out the window, feeling rather despondent at the gray skies and water droplets splattering themselves against the thick windows of the plane. “Ugh,” she muttered, allowing Savage to tug her up from her seat.

“Come on you.” He pulled her gently in front of himself and placed his hands on her shoulders, steering her towards the front of the plane inexorably.

“Why do I feel like I'm going to the gallows?” Zora groaned as she shuffled her way down the narrow space between the seats.

He leaned down, speaking close to her ear in a way that was very intimate indeed. “Because you're tired and melodramatic. You'll feel better after a rest.”

“After a rest where?”

He didn't answer that question. She figured it was because they were walking past the bright stewardess who had managed to last an eleven hour flight without getting so much as a hair out of place. Zora wondered if the hostess was really a woman, or some kind of advanced cyborg. She knew she wasn't looking nearly as well put together, her hair had frizzed up on the back of the chair and she was sure her eyes would be puffy. She felt gross and sticky when she moved and she was in dire need of a shower.

In her flight addled state, she allowed herself to be propelled out of the plane and along the extendable walkway that lead to the airport terminal proper. Before they got that far however, they were directed down a different hall by a man in a uniform. Too tired to ask why, and knowing that she wasn't going to get an answer anyway, Zora eventually found herself in the back of a Hummer with tinted windows.

“Where are we going?” She droned the question, not expecting to get an answer. She didn't even get one of Savage's all too casual brush offs. In fact, she was ignored entirely. He was chatting with the driver, a fresh faced young man who seemed very impressed by meeting the Captain Savage, as he kept enthusing. Zora didn't know if there were a lot of Captain Savages out there and the young soldier was making a collection of them, or if there was something particularly special about her Captain Savage. At that moment, she didn't much care.

“The Captain Savage,” she announced in loud, brash tones. “If you don't tell me where we're going, I'm going to bite you.”

“Hush,” Savage frowned at her.

Out of all the words he could have possibly used 'hush' was probably the worst. It was condescending and it was juvenile and it riled her. “Don't you hush me!”

If Zora had been a little less tired, a little less irritated or a little less concerned about her future, she might have paid more attention to the fact that she was pressing one of Brett Savage's most sensitive buttons, being disrespected in front of colleagues. It didn't occur to her however, not until she was pinned face down on the seat, her ass being slapped with the sort of gusto usually reserved for beating particularly dirty rugs.

“Stop it! That fucking hurts!” She complained at the top of her lungs.

“Good,” he replied heartlessly, slapping her harder, ignoring her squealing and deftly avoiding her flailing limbs as he painted her seat hot red through her pants.

As she wriggled and writhed, Zora hoped that the altercation might at least buy her a little time to figure out what was going on, but her spanking didn't hold up proceedings in the slightest. Even as Savage's arm rose and fell with rhythmic disciplinary ardor, the car started moving, sweeping them out of the airport and out to regions unknown. The windows were tinted with a variable tint that darkened as they drove, obscuring the view almost completely, and a partition discreetly rolled up between the back and front seats prevented her from seeing out the windscreen.

“STOP IT!” She shrieked as Savage's hand fell one too many times, coming very close to breaking what was left of her composure.

“Settle down, little girl,” Savage growled, one hand bunched in the fabric at the back of her neck, the other placed firmly on her still jean clad ass. The amount of sting and heat he could impart through the thick fabric of jeans stunned her as she squirmed, her hot bottom swollen against the harsh fabric.

“You settle down. I only asked a simple question,” Zora sniffed. Her fatigue was starting to get the better of her. There had been a lot of excitement of late, and not a lot of rest. Tears started leaking down her cheeks as she wriggled against the upholstery, a prisoner of Savage's iron grasp.

“We're going somewhere safe, I can't tell you where. You don't have clearance to know.”

“I don't have clearance? I just saved the fucking world!” Tears and pain did not modify her temper, which was still close to boiling point. A total meltdown of a tantrum was not far off and though she knew the consequences for such a thing would not be at all pleasant, she was only just holding herself in check.

“That's as maybe,” Savage said, allowing her to scramble up. “But so has everyone else where we're going.”

“So we're going to some super hero hideout?” She wiped her eyes on the back of her sleeve and pretended like she hadn't been crying.

“If you want to call it that,” Savage was smiling slightly, although the dark circles under his eyes showed that he was also pretty tired. For a moment, Zora felt a little bad for giving him such a hard time. Then she realized that she was still effectively being kidnapped and some of that empathy drained away. She sat awkwardly on the far side of the car, sniffing and rubbing her eyes on her sweatshirt as traitorous tears continued to bash their way through the leaky barricade of her self control.

“Come here,” Savage said gruffly, pulling her back against him. She curled up on the back seat as he cradled her head in his lap, gently tracing his fingers through her hair. Zora was stiff and resistant at first, but even she couldn't remain defiant as he soothed her. That was the great mystery of the man. He could be thrashing her bottom one moment, and caressing her gently the next. Just when she thought he didn't care how much he hurt her, he would comfort her with a soft touch.

She was so tired she started to doze in spite of her sore ass and frustration and didn't wake up until they were bouncing along over rocky roads. The motion reminded her of earlier trips. This had to be the place he'd brought her when he'd first grabbed her. She could feel the heat of the sun through the windows, and there was a dry, scratchy quality to the air that made her want to cough. He wasn't taking her home, he was taking her back to the most efficient prison on earth. A feeling of dread seized her tired and aching body. She'd secretly been hoping that he would return her to her own place, or perhaps, if things had really been going as well between them as she thought they had been going, to his place. But this wasn't her place or his place. This was a facility good for one thing, keeping people underground for all time. There was no escape to be had, and no life to be lived either. For a painful moment, she found herself regretting having gotten on the plane in Haskovo. She sat up and slid across to the other side of the car, as far away from Savage as possible. “We're back where we started.” Her voice was flat and devoid of emotion as she made the observation. “You bastard.”

“Zora...” He began to respond to her with the same dismissive tone he responded to her usual outbursts with, but she cut him off with a look of cold fury.

“I trusted you,” she said, her voice dangerously soft as the car tipped forward slightly and the small amount of light that had been filtering through the tint dimmed as they headed down into the bowels of the earth. “I did what you told me to. And you brought me back here. I'm nothing to you but your prisoner.”

“Zora, we have to follow procedure.”

“And what is procedure exactly? You told me you could do whatever you wanted with me. This is what you want to do with me? You want to stuff me away underground until I'm useful to you again?”

“You're getting ahead of yourself, girl.”

“Apparently,” she agreed, clamming up as they pulled up to a stop.

Her suspicions were confirmed when they disembarked into a windowless concrete car park. Savage directed her through a pair of sliding metal doors and into the interior of the compound. She knew the place instantly. It was the smell that hit her first, a stale smell with a faint hint of antiseptic and carpet cleaner.

Savage put a hand on her shoulder, holding her in place. “We need to debrief before anything else happens, understand?”

“Sure, whatever,” Zora replied through clenched teeth.

“I need to report in.” He looked down at her, his arms folded over his chest, a solemn expression on his face. “You're going to cause trouble if I leave you to your own devices.” It wasn't a question, it was a statement of fact. She wasn't going to get the benefit of the doubt, she wasn't getting the benefit of anything, certainly not her hard work.

From past experience she had a very good idea of where the conversation was leading, and she didn't like it one bit. “If you lock me up,” she began the threat without quite knowing where to end it, and cast about for a few seconds whilst she tried to think of a lever that would have some effect on the solid mass of man in front of her. “I'll hate you forever,” she vowed finally.

Savage raised his eyes skywards and took a deep breath. Perhaps he was calling on a deity for patience. Whatever he was doing, when his eyes fell on her again, they were settled and calm. “You need to get some rest,” he said firmly.

“I don't want rest. I want out of here,” Zora argued. She was starting to feel claustrophobic. Just the idea of all the earth and rock above her head was freaking her out, let alone the prospect of being locked up like a common criminal.

“Later. First you get rest.” He was implacable. He took her by the hand and lead her through the myriad of halls. When she dragged her heels, he gave her a sharp slap on her behind and yanked her around to face him. “Listen Zora, I'm taking you to my room right now. It's comfortable and you can get some rest there. If you're going to keep acting up, you can go into a cell. Which is it going to be?”

Her lower lip quivered as he frowned impatiently at her, his demeanor putting her in mind of a frazzled parent at the end of their tether. “Your room,” she said in a small voice.