by Tiana Laveen
3…
2..
1.
BAM! BAM BAM BAM!
In the blink of an eye, he shot three of the men in the knee cap and they dropped to the floor like flies, writhing about. Savage held another in a brutal chokehold. The one with the broken nose had hobbled away, out of sight, still whimpering and cursing.
“Mr. Savage,” Longhorn stated dryly. “Is there a reason why you’ve shot my guards in their legs and you’re holding Mr. Rodriquez here hostage? I’ve had about enough of this.”
Another man came around the corner, his gun drawn.
“Motherfucker, I will break this bastard’s neck and toss your ass out the nearest window with your own gun jammed up your ass like a gotdamn flagpole if you keep pointing that thing at me.”
The young man blinked a few times. His hands shook, but he held the gun steady.
“Derek, please put the gun down,” Longhorn ordered.
“This is how you treat your guests, you piece of shit? Pat them down, put guns in their faces? You’re lucky I aimed for the legs. I see you didn’t tell them about me, my rules.” The man in his grip gurgled and groaned as he squeezed him harder. “If you’re a pretty woman, don’t take off your clothes unless you want to get fucked. If you’re a man, no touching. Period. Don’t point a gun at me unless you plan to shoot.” His adrenaline shot through the roof.
“I…. I can’t breathe!” the man he held captive gasped, his face turning tomato red. Savage released his grip, dropkicked the dirtbag to the floor, then stepped over him as if he were a mere inconvenience. Tossing up his hands, gun still in his palm, he laughed.
“Nice place, Longhorn. I see it looks exactly the same as the last time I was here. Me and my boys bought you all of this, huh? All of our hard work, putting our asses on the line while you live the highlife. You’ve done well for yourself!”
Longhorn offered a tight smile, grabbed his cane from an umbrella holder and laughed in a forced tone.
“You’ve forgotten that Austin and I were once in your shoes. Our bodies are retired, not our brains, Savage. We’ve earned our stripes, our riches, our trappings. Now, follow me.” The man motioned for him to follow, likely to some private room where they could discuss some shit Savage was hellbent on not doing. “Why did you finally agree to come and meet with me? Believe me, I was thrilled, but my curiosity needs to be fed.”
The man’s wiry black and white eyebrows bunched then relaxed, his lips curled in a slight smile. The guy’s expression reminded him of a black abyss, just like his innerworkings and deeds. That mouth was equipped with a wicked tongue known to order executions left and right at the slightest infraction from anyone who got in his way. He wasn’t above corruption and playing dirty, but in some odd way, he’d placed himself on a pedestal without impunity. The man’s bloodthirsty nature matched his—that much they had in common.
Perhaps this similarity was what caused their confrontations. Austin had alluded to such many year ago. Savage had rolled that around in his mind a time or two. Could the Devil not stand to look at his own reflection?
They walked side by side down the hallway, their steps in sync. Longhorn was only 5’10, but built solid. He’d been a feared man back in the 1970s and ’80s. He’d been nothing but muscle and was known for his strength, mental agility, and fluency in various languages. He’d been a bodyguard and head of security to not one, but two United States presidents. Savage would’ve given the two headed serpent his props had they actually enjoyed one another, yet Longhorn was a thorn in his side. Sneaky, always slithering around under the cloak of the night.
He didn’t care for his personality, his checkered, questionable history with Austin, or his criticism of Savage’s at times unorthodox execution of his hits. Savage didn’t care though. His mission was to get the job done by any means necessary. Sometimes protocol simply didn’t fit into the equation.
“No answer for me?”
“What?” Savage asked.
“I’m not worthy of knowing why you changed your mind to speak with me?”
“At this point, I doubt it actually matters. All you really care about is that I’m on your turf and now you can lie and scheme in peace.”
Longhorn chuckled as he opened a large, glossy black door by hooking his cane around the silver doorknob and twisting. They entered a room with a high, domed ceiling and dark oak walls, one of which was covered with bookshelves and the other with a large painting of a military man from the past.
“That’s King Leopold II,” Longhorn stated as he rounded his desk and took a seat, pointing at the chair before him. He settled and cleared his throat. Two prescription medications sat there, which he quickly grabbed and tossed into a desk drawer. “That man was one of the most savage, pardon the pun, rulers of the world. He was—”
“The King of the Belgians…”
Longhorn’s brow rose as Savage pulled out the chair before him and took a seat, his legs wide apart, feeling like a fucking king amongst peasants.
“So.” Longhorn placed his cane down against the desk and rested his elbows on the wood and his chin on the back of his hand. An obnoxious smirk formed on his pale face. “Though I’m surprised about your knowledge of such things,” He pointed to the painting. “I really shouldn’t be. You didn’t get to where you have in life by being an imbecile. With guys like you, there’s always more than meets the eye. It all makes sense.”
“What makes sense? That I can read and write and know how to use my opposable thumbs?”
Longhorn tittered and shook his head, then reached into his drawer and pulled out two large liquor bottles—Bowmore Whiskey, a bourbon—and two shot glasses.
“You’re a rather interesting person, Savage.” The man poured the whiskey in both of the glasses, then the dark liquor. “I would—”
“Can you please tell the walking pubic hair behind us to leave? I’m not going to sit here talking to you with a gun pointed at me.” Longhorn’s brow rose as he clutched one of the glasses in his hand. “Yeah, here we go again. Are you that afraid of me?” Savage smirked. “Long live the memory of the great Longhorn! Scared of little ol’ Savage… How humiliating.” Longhorn quietly finished pouring the drinks.
“Siiiimon!” the older man finally called out. “You can leave. It appears your presence makes Mr. Savage here uncomfortable.” The man came out of the shadows, and their eyes locked briefly before he left and closed the door behind him.
“You know, Longhorn, I debated on tossing a knife at the middle of his fuckin’ forehead, but I like this knife and didn’t want to have to wrangle it out of him and clean off the bits of brain matter… you know, the usual.” Savage removed the bone dagger from his waistband and twirled it about.
Longhorn gave one shot glass a gentle nudge in his direction and took the other for himself.
“It’s a nice piece, Savage. You don’t see too many bone daggers these days.” He chugged his drink, then poured himself another. “Would you classify yourself as old school in weaponry of choice?”
Savage shrugged as he picked up the glass and studied the liquor from various angles.
“I got it while in Rome a few years back.”
Longhorn leaned back in his seat, and the chair squeaked.
“Savage, I want to hire you for a job.”
“We’ve already discussed this and I haven’t changed my mind.”
“Hear me out first. Just so the secrets are out,” he said, raising his hand so his simple gold wedding band shone in the light, “Austin was given this task first.” Savage paused. Now his interest was piqued. “He refused it. He had his reasons. So now, it’s in my hands. It has to be done.”
“Who is it?”
“I can only tell you if you at least promise to consider the job.”
“Now why would I do something as foolish as that? I’m not going to make any promises without having all of my ducks in a row.” Savage crossed his legs and steepled his hands.
“You’ll have
to trust me.”
Savage burst out laughing. He couldn’t believe his ears.
“No, it doesn’t work that way. You sit here in your glass house throwing stones, telling me that Austin refused a job, and we both know that’s practically unheard of. You dropped a bomb then hid your hand. That means either it’s a woman, a child, or someone he feels is far too risky to even go after. Someone has an ‘X’ on their back, but it isn’t the usual suspects. He wanted nothing to do with it, and since he actually has scruples, unlike you, this makes me question the whole damn thing. Now tell me or I’m outta here.”
“Okay, meet me half way.” The man pulled out a drawer and removed a cigar wrapped in black then handed it to him. He then took out one for himself, lit it, and swiveled slowly back and forth in his chair. “What you said a bit ago? It’s the third option…” They stared at one another for a long while. “This is coming directly from a former president of the United States. The laundry list is long. This individual is a threat to national security. I looked over the information. He’s got to go.”
“He’s a threat to a legacy then and probably has some ties to leaking information. A spy for another country…” Savage ran his fingers along his jaw, feeling the dense hairs of his beard. “The president who ordered this… Skull and Bones affiliation?” Savage grinned as he took a small taste of the whiskey, pretty certain he was right.
“I am not at liberty to say, but you’re a smart man. I’m sure once you agree to the job and read over the report, you’ll figure it out along the way.”
“I don’t play hide-and-seek. I know my objective and where the fun is being had before I step foot in any motherfuckin’ assignment, period. POINT. BLANK.” Savage tapped his finger on the desk. “No blind shit. You’re banking on my curiosity, but curiosity killed the cat and I’m no pussy… so put up or shut up.”
Longhorn shook his head, a greasy grin spread across his face, then rested his cigar in an ashtray shaped like the world.
“Temper, temper… Let’s play it this way. I just so happen to know you’ve been in the company of a lady friend. It appears to be rather serious from what I’m told.”
“I’ve been told you like to fuck pigeons.” Longhorn burst out laughing and briefly closed his eyes. “I see you’ve got your flying monkeys all over my shit. Snoops.”
“You never make things easy, do you now, Savage? My reason for bringing this up is because, perhaps, I can be of assistance.” The man cocked his head to the side.
“I don’t need any assistance from you and definitely none for my love life.”
“Well, maybe she does…” The silence built between them like walls. “You see, I understand she is a very beautiful woman with a rather successful podcast show. I mean, that’s not much.” He shrugged. “But she’s gotten a bit of a name for herself. She ran a successful practice at one point in time. I suppose she can always return to that if so wishes. She has a couple of self-help books that have had fair success. They’re barely a blip on the radar, but she’s not exactly unknown either. Seems to me, she just needs a little help.”
“We don’t need your fuckin’ help. Why don’t you worry about how to get it up so you can please your fourth wife, you know, the twenty-five-year-old who’s probably fuckin’ your pool boy and swallowin’ his load as we speak?”
The man sucked his teeth before continuing, ignoring Savage’s vicious jab. “Your lady friend’s family is rather interesting, wouldn’t you say? It appears her mother rarely leaves the house… a recluse. She has some interesting mental challenges. Pretty serious, too. I imagine some expensive home care could make a great difference. Top of the line specialists who can give this woman the attention and treatment she so deserves. Do you know how many solutions are out here that cure all sorts of diseases, but the medication isn’t yet FDA approved? This woman’s schizophrenia symptoms could be practically gone within a matter of months.”
Savage’s jaw tightened as his anxiety and angst revved up.
A flash of Zaire on the phone with her father the other day flooded his mind. The man was at his wits’ end. Her mother had destroyed the kitchen in a fit of paranoid rage. As if reading his mind, the man took another jab at his fragile stack of mental cards.
“Her father is a hardworking man, a pillar of the Black community. Articulate, handsome, kind.” His lips curled in a heinous smirk. “And yet, he is hardly recognized for his past bravery as a firefighter for the city of Los Angeles. What a pity. I could change that, too…
“She has a half-wit sister who isn’t nearly the woman she is, but they are making lemonade out of lemons. Eva Zaire Ellington is also a witness who will be forever under some form of surveillance thanks to the likes of you, Mr. Savage. It’s the name of the game. Regardless of that, I could assist in her career to bring it from so-so to skyrocketing notoriety. Now you, of course, being the prideful man that you are, will deny my help, but perhaps she will not. Sometimes it’s not the money that makes the world go around, which you have plenty of. It’s who you know.” The maggot of a man picked up his glass and chugged it straight back. “Would you like her to receive the assistance I put into motion? It’s only a couple phone calls away. If so, let’s make this deal.”
Savage picked up his glass of whiskey and polished it off.
He placed the empty glass back down onto the desk, then shoved it aside with a swipe of his hand and leaned forward.
“Longhorn, let’s talk… do some business.” The man gave an eager smile. “You see, the business we do doesn’t concern my girlfriend, the members of her family, her friends, her fuckin’ stuffed teddy bears, none of that shit. Now, I know everything there is to know about Eva Zaire Ellington, you son of a bitch. You’re not schooling me on anything.” Longhorn puffed on his cigar, his smile all but gone. “From the top of her fucking head to the bottom of her feet, I know my woman almost better than she knows herself.
“There isn’t shit you can school me on to try and manipulate me into feeling like this is the deal of the century, offer the Devil’s gold in order to entice me. You can’t sell heat to a demon… I invented fire. This woman is important to me, and you just tried to play on that. I can’t fault you for trying. It’s normal to find a man’s weakness and poke at it to get what you want.”
“I’ve received a report, Savage. There are probably some things you’re not yet aware of, some information that—”
Savage raised his hand to stop him.
“Didn’t I just tell you there isn’t shit you can tell me? I know the mundane about her to the serious! I know about her breast reduction in her twenties! I know about her run in with a serial rapist on her college campus, which she narrowly escaped, and the memory still leaves her shaken. I know about her ex-boyfriend who beat the living shit out of her in a jealous rage and she in turn got in her car and ran over his fucking foot. She doesn’t do what she does as a career just for sport! She’s trying to save other women from doing the same shit she did! I needed to know why she was the way she was, and she’s told me some things, but me being the nosy fucker I am… I needed the whole fucking picture! No public record exists of some of this shit so whatever little report you have doesn’t even scratch the surface. There’s nothing I don’t know. Nothing that will surprise me or make me change my mind. I know who I’m kissing at night… who I am confiding in… who I am in love with. Don’t play with me, Longhorn, because I also schooled her about motherfuckers like you!
“She graduated at the top of her class and she’s got street smarts. She loves her father to pieces, to the point she’d do anything for him, a true blue Daddy’s girl. And she has a thing for men that come from the wrong side of the tracks. It’s her damn downfall, but this time, I am going to make sure she doesn’t regret it. I found a diamond in the rough, a woman who’ll be loyal to me and loyal to herself, too. I don’t need you tinkering around in our business so let me make somethin’ real clear, you slimy, underhanded fucker.” Savage hissed, jabbing his finger in
the air. “Whatever she needs to elevate her career, she can get it herself or from me.
“She doesn’t need shit from you, especially since we both know the price far outweighs the service. Since she’s been involved in an investigation as a witness in Vegas, unfortunately you got wind of her presence in my life. It’s in our database, public knowledge amongst us, but don’t you for one second think she’s a bargaining chip. This isn’t the casino, and she’s not up for grabs. That sort of thought process will get you killed, motherfucker.”
Savage gritted his teeth as his heart pounded and his temper soared. “You know I’ll do it. I’ve done it before. Since you played a game with me and lost, two of your men are dead and now several more may need knee replacements. My parents didn’t raise no punk! Now.” Savage leaned back in the seat, clasping his fingers over his lap. “Let’s get to the part that matters…” He snatched a toothpick from a dispenser and shoved it in his mouth, twirling it about. “I see you’re desperate since you tried to go there with me, so that means this must be a hell of a lot of dinero. A lot of cash on the line. How much money are we talking?”
Longhorn hesitated, a mixture of confusion and anger on his face, but then his expression smoothed out and he leaned forward.
“Twenty-five million.”
“Yippee ya yay! Your cut?”
“Twenty percent, per my usual.”
“So, winner takes twenty million, and you snatch five mil for a finder’s fee, all tax deductible thanks to ol’ Uncle Sam giving special blind eyes to assignments such as this.”
Longhorn nodded. “Yes, it’s all yours after we do the light accounting work.”
“Hmm, interesting. And why me? You coulda got Stevens, Germane, or Johnson. They’re all pretty damn good, if I say so myself.”
“They are, but let’s be honest here. I don’t exactly enjoy giving you a compliment, but I must give credit where credit is due.” The man chuckled, darkness shining in his small blue eyes framed with abundant crow’s feet. “With you, Savage, I know exactly what I’m getting into. No surprises. You deliver. First, the timing would be short; you are an in and out kind of man, much like me. Second, the procedure will be clean. No messes beyond a short clean up, no fingerprints, no paper trail. And thirdly, the mission will be completed. Here’s why I am not as inclined to hand this off to some of your suggestions mentioned. Stevens is slower and more methodical than you. This target may not take kindly to that if he’s tipped off and the slower you are, the more chances of that.