by Loki Renard
A low growl emerged from Zora. It was one thing to be afraid of Anja, it was quite another to sit there as the bitch tore her and Savage down. “If you don’t trust him, why don’t you get yourself transferred?”
“I follow orders and do as I’m told, unlike some people,” Anja shot back.
“But you whine about it like a little girl,” Zora replied, a sneer firmly established on her face. The younger woman’s constant hostility was coming to a head where Zora was concerned. Sooner or later, one of them was going to have to go – and Zora was certain it wouldn’t be her.
“Anja, please.” Brian interjected from behind a pair of oversized yellow rimmed shades. He was stretched out on one of the bottom bunks and until he’d opened his mouth, Zora had thought he was sleeping. Always soft spoken, Brian was none the less the ranking officer in the room, at least, Zora was pretty sure he was. She hadn’t been paying as much attention as she should have done to the badges and stars and stripes and whatnot, but Savage delegated everything to Brian and the others seemed to salute him an awful lot. At Brian’s soft command, Anja settled into a disgruntled silence.
As it turned out, the blonde was lucky Brian had spoken up when he did, for heavy footsteps crunched on the gravel outside the barracks, announcing the Captain’s arrival. “Right,” Savage pushed the door open and poked his handsome head inside. “Let’s go.”
That was it. That was the order that had them clambering off the bunks, gathering their packs and making their way out into the night toward the jeep that would transport them all to the air field. Zora had expected more fanfare, more standing to attention, more stirring speeches, but that obviously wasn’t Savage’s style.
She followed along, carried by the momentum of the others, hardly believing that they were off to foil a dastardly terrorist plot. This was the moment she had feared from the moment Savage had told her what was required of her, but it all seemed so very mundane that she hardly felt any fear at all. Yes, there was a certain bubbling of anxiety, but nothing like the paralyzing force she’d worried about.
In spite of the intimacies they’d so recently shared, Savage didn’t shower her with attention as they rode towards the field. She didn’t blame him, even a peck on the cheek would probably make Anja’s silly head explode. Still Zora glanced at him often for reassurance. He was all business, entirely composed, and remarkably, showing no signs of the stress and tension that had pervaded the team in the barracks. In moments like these, it was easy to see how Savage had risen through the ranks. He still had a bandage across the bridge of his nose and there was a distinct black ring under his eye, but he was still a commanding presence. He too was in civilian clothing, wearing a checkered shirt tucked into a belted pair of blue jeans. His feet were shod in stylish, but functional boots. All he needed was a cowboy hat to complete the image, Zora thought, grinning to herself as she wondered how Savage would fare with a lasso.
He’d probably be quite good at it. He was good at everything else. She closed her eyes and imagined that her arms were tied behind her, bound at the wrists with rough rope. In her day dream, Savage was in front of her, entirely shirtless, his muscular torso tanned under the harsh southern sun. He held the end of the rope and pulled it between her thighs, rough pressure settling across her clit where the seam of her jeans just so happened to rub…
“Eyes open, soldier!” Savage nudged her back to reality. Her cowboy fantasies were cut abruptly short as they reached the airfield and drove up onto the tarmac next to a plane that seemed to Zora to be as big as an office block laying on its side. There were uniformed soldiers all around it, preparing it for take off. It sat placidly in the middle all the activity, indifferent to the puny humans working frantically to get it off the ground in time. It was large and rather rotund, built for carrying things long distances, not for quick maneuvers and aggressive missions. Viewed from certain angles, it was almost friendly looking with its snub nose and round belly.
“C-17 Globemaster III,” Archie beamed as they all clambered out of the truck. “These things are awesome.”
Zora tried to share some of his enthusiasm and she almost managed it, until she climbed up the ramp at the back of the plane and into the belly of the beast. The friendly image was entirely lost once she attained the interior of the plane. Unlike a commercial liner outfitted with plastic paneling and nice soft seats and opaque grilled lighting, the interior of the Globemaster was cavernous and Spartan in appearance. There were metal struts and grilles all over the show and in the middle of the plane were three late model automobiles in bland colors, two cars and one van strapped down quite nonchalantly as if they flew all the time. This was a functional plane. This was a plane meant to do things. This was not a plane that took you to a lovely holiday destination, this was a plane that tossed you out the back of it without bothering to land first.
Zora felt her heart begin to race. There was no going back now. Her stomach lurched up into her throat, her mouth was suddenly dry. The team were obediently taking their places, strapping themselves into the bench seats and harnesses along the side of the plane, but Zora stalled, looking wistfully at the large ramp that lead down onto the ground, safe, lovely ground.
“Come on,” Savage said, placing his hand on the back of her neck and steering her towards a spare seat. She wanted to scream and cry like a baby, but she was too embarrassed to do so in front of the team, especially in front of Anja, so she settled for merely wringing her hands and gnawing at her fingernails as Savage pressed her down into a seat next to Brian and strapped her in. “Relax, kid,” he winked at her. She gave him a weak smile. There was nothing to be relaxed about, nothing at all. She’d just been strapped into a flying warehouse.
When Savage sat next to her, she felt a little bit better. Between Savage and Brian she was as protected as she was going to get, but still the butterflies weren’t going away. They grew worse as the tail of the aircraft was closed and the engines were warmed up. The noise of the massive engines as they began to turn was outrageous and she covered her ears, ignoring Anja’s smirk as the walls of the plane vibrated.
It wasn’t much better when the plane started trundling heavily towards the runway, quickly gathering speed. To Zora’s credit, she resisted the urge to scream as the massive beast of a machine hurtled down the runway and took to the air with an uncomfortable, weightless lurch that made her stomach rise once more.
“You okay?” Savage almost yelled the words in her ear to be heard over the nose of the engines. She shook her head. She was not okay. She was not okay at all. She was going to be sick. She was going to pass out from panic and fear. The plane jolted roughly as it hit a patch of turbulence and even breathing became difficult for Zora. She clutched at Savage’s arm tight enough to leave marks and whimpered, a small sound lost in the powerful droning of the plane.
Savage made some comforting noises, but she couldn’t hear him as the plane battled through rough patches of air, bumping about like a boat on the high seas. Closing her eyes tightly, Zora prayed that she’d survive the flight. She was no longer worried about terrorists.
As the plane reached its cruising altitude, the turbulence lessened significantly and Zora was able to open her eyes and let go of Savage’s arm. “See, you’re fine,” Savage murmured against her ear, stroking her hair with comforting swipes of his large hand.
“If she can’t handle take off, how’s she going to handle the mission?” Anja’s snide tones floated across the creaking metal.
“Anja!” Savage roared with a burst of anger that took everyone, including Zora, by surprise. “Shut your damn mouth. If I hear another word out of you before we land – I’ll give you something else to occupy it.”
The look of confusion on his face as Tank burst into laughter, followed by Archie and Brian made it clear that Savage hadn’t quite worked out how what he’d said would sound before he said it. Anja blushed bright red and even Zora snickered at the unintended innuendo.
“I meant a gag or som
ething,” he explained halfheartedly, seeming to know all too well that nobody cared what he’d meant. Their version of events was far more interesting.
Giggling to herself, Zora snuggled up against his side, feeling much better. The plane was still vibrating with the ongoing hum of the engines, but she figured that was probably preferable to the engines not being on. “You liked that did you?” Savage looked down at her with a smirk on his face.
“It did paint quite a picture,” she grinned up at him.
“I would have thought it would make you jealous, not giggly like a school girl,” he said, tweaking her nose.
“Me? Jealous of Anja? Never,” Zora smiled. She had once been quite concerned about the pretty blonde, but she really didn’t feel all that jealous of Anja anymore. She was quite certain Savage had never confessed feelings to Anja, and she was even more certain that Anja had never known what it was like to be taken by Savage’s powerful body. Zora squirmed as she remembered what it had felt like to have him inside her, his thickness propelled by muscles hardened from years of daring deeds.
“Brat,” Savage rumbled comfortingly, tussling her hair. Zora smiled and dared to stretch her legs out in front of her. They’d been clenched during take off and even the simple act of straightening them released a lot of the tension she’d been holding in her body.
It was a long flight, over ten hours. At some point Zora stopped being afraid that the plane was going to drop out of the sky and managed to actually fall asleep, her head resting against Savage’s shoulder. She didn’t wake up until the plane began to descend for landing. The descent was not nearly as dramatic as take off had been, and before long, they were on the ground. Zora let out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding as the tail of the plane opened in the disconcerting way it had and the incongruous scent of flowers and sunlight filtered into the interior.
They had departed the US in the depths of night, but it was day time where they’d landed. Savage helped her unstrap herself and Zora was soon emerging into a warm, sunny day in the middle of nowhere. She looked around in confusion, expecting a military air field, but they had landed at a small airstrip that was little more than a paved asphalt surface lacking the most basic of amenities. There were no terminals, no control towers, nothing. In the distance were some houses that indicated human inhabitants, but that was it.
“Where are we?” She turned to Savage, confusion written all over her face.
“Metaxades, it’s a small village.”
“Metaxades? Sounds…”
“Greek, we’re in Greece,” Savage grinned, looking like a small boy very much pleased with himself. He stretched in the sun, the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up and the light sheen of sweat on his muscular forearms made them gleam powerfully. Zora felt a low bolt of arousal shoot through her abdomen. Even when she was feeling utterly lost in a strange country, he was capable of distracting her with his mere existence.
“I thought it was Bulgarians we were after?” Her brows crumpled towards her nose.
“The border between Bulgaria and Greece is to the West,” Savage pointed in the general direction of the West, a motion that brought his muscles to Zora’s attention once more.
Squinting her eyes, Zora could only see farm land and beyond that, a glistening river. “I don’t see a border.”
“The Nestos is the border. That’s the river.”
“Oh. So we’re going to have to swim for it?”
“Not quite,” Savage smiled. They were very much engaged in the mission now, and yet Savage was nothing like Zora had expected him to be. The build up to the mission had been fraught with terrible tension and utmost seriousness, but now the big man was entirely at ease. He clapped her on the back heartily and turned towards the rest of the team. “Are we ready?”
They weren’t ready. Archie, Steve and Brian had gone for the vehicles. Everybody stood back as they were started and driven convoy style out of the plane, a sight that Zora still found rather strange and unsettling.
“Here’s the plan,” Savage took a moment to brief Zora privately in simple words she’d understand. At one time she might have found it condescending, but now she was glad he dispensed with the military talk that tended to make her nervous and confused. “The crew will take the plane, we’ll take the cars and drive across the border posing as tourists.”
“Tourists who fight terrorists?” Zora quipped with a grin, which faded quickly as Savage shook his head sternly.
“No. You don’t say that word again, understand? You don’t say anything about anything to do with the mission. You call me Brett and you call everyone else by their first names too, got it?”
“Got it,” Zora nodded.
“Good.” Savage looked up and addressed the team. “Okay, as planned, Archie and Anja, you two are coupled up. Zora’s with me. Tank, Brian and Steve, you lot are off on the stag trip.”
“Woo, titty bars!” Tank punched the air. “For cover, right?”
“Right,” Savage said, shrugging as if it didn’t much matter to him what they did. “Just show up when you’re needed.”
“What’s our cover?” Zora asked curiously. Savage grinned and fished in his pocket. “You, Ms Zora,” he said, taking her hand and sliding a gold ring on to the finger next to the pinky,“will be my new bride. We’re on our honeymoon, see? Mr and Mrs Brown.”
Zora blushed as Savage slid the band onto her ring finger, feeling a little thrill of possession run through her. It wasn’t real of course, couldn’t be real, but pretending was nice. “What are Anja and Archie supposed to be?” She changed the subject slightly so he wouldn’t see just how pleased she was to pretend to be his wife.
“Archie and Anja are college kids on a culture break paid for by their indulgent parents,” Savage explained. “So we will split up now. Stags take the Toyota, kids get the Mitzi, and we’ll take the Jag.” If Zora’s grin had been any wider, it would have split her face in two. Here she was in beautiful Greece with Savage by her side playing her husband, no less. Even better, Anja was being sent off with Archie and wouldn’t be bothering her anymore. “You look like the cat the got the cream,” Savage lowered his head and murmured in her ear.
“I’m just looking forward to the wedding night,” Zora batted her eyelashes as she pressed her body into his, grinding her hips rather shamelessly against his thigh. She didn’t need any encouragement whatsoever to go along with their cover. Nor did Savage, it seemed.
“Oh I bet you are,” he purred, his hand sliding down her back to squeeze her bottom. “We just need to get you into a dress,” he said, running a critical eye over her. “Something that says ‘honeymoon’, not ‘amateur criminal’.”
Zora rolled her eyes. He had to ruin it by trying to make her into a girly girl. “Maybe we need to get you into a dress,” she responded pertly. “Ow!” She cried out as Savage’s big, hard palm came crashing down against her bottom.
“That’s more than enough of your cheek, young lady,” he said gruffly, opening the door of the car Brian had delivered safely down the ramp. It was a sleek royal blue Jag that Zora rather liked, not too modern, not too old. She got into the passenger seat quite happily. If this was what going on top secret mission was like she could definitely get behind it.
She watched through the windscreen as the rest of the team split into their respective groups. Anja and Archie made a cute couple. They were both young enough to pass as college students and both good looking in a predictable sort of way. As for Tank, Steve and Brian, they piled into the van quite eagerly, no doubt anticipating the pleasures of pretending to be on an extended stag do almost as much as she was anticipating spending the night with Savage in a honeymoon suite.
“Right,” Savage got into the driver’s side. “Let’s get out of here.”
The three vehicles set out in three different directions so as not to bring suspicion upon themselves as they crossed over the border from Greece to Bulgaria. Within just a few minutes, Zora and Savage were alone on th
e road. Zora was over the moon. The smile did not leave her face as she looked out over the fields bathed in the same bright sunshine she imagined once fell upon the faces of the famous ancient Greeks. “This is awesome,” she said, kicking off her shoes and putting her socked feet up on the dash. “Full marks for the cover story.”
Savage smiled over at her and winked rakishly. “Thank you,” he said, changing down gear smoothly as they encountered some rougher road. “We will of course, have to play our roles fully.” His voice was thick with welcome innuendo, his eyes hungry as he glanced over at her and slid his hand over her thigh and up to her crotch in a brief, sweeping caress that made her moan.
“No great hardship,” Zora said, squirming in her seat happily. She was warm, she was happy and she was about to spend the evening in private luxury with the man of her dreams. She decided then and there that if she ever met any of those Bulgarian terrorists, she would shake them by the hand.
Chapter Fourteen
In the ancient settlement city of Haskovo, events were taking place in a luxurious honeymoon apartment decorated with portraits of Cupid and dominated by a super king size four poster bed draped with the kind of decorative fabric that would have made it seem quite at home anywhere from the first century to the twenty first century. Dimly lit with the soft glow of bulbs designed to look like candles, the tussled sheets strewn across the bed spoke to the lust that had recently been shared there.
Zora stood in front of a table, frowning down at a series of drawings and photographs of ugly buildings. She was wearing nothing but an oversized sweatshirt bought from the gift shop to cover her nakedness, her hair scraped back in a severe ponytail, her legs bare. From time to time, she nibbled at a fingernail and shuffled a picture here or there. The faint sound of a running shower emanated from the background as she applied herself to her studies.