Savage Reborn (Team Savage Book 1)

by Michael Todd

  Stepping inside revealed very little that he couldn’t already guess from the outside. New Orleans was one of those cities that was usually in a state of celebration. Of course, the time for Mardi Gras was long past, but that didn’t mean people couldn’t celebrate around it. Tourism was a huge money-maker for this city, and when the weekend rolled around, people liked to have a good time without needing a calendar-based excuse for it.

  Shots were distributed while lively pop music covers were played by a live band. A section had been partitioned off, which indicated that a DJ would take over when the band needed a break. This wasn’t the kind of place Savage usually frequented since the loud noise tended to give him a headache over time. Still, he could understand the appeal for people who were about a decade younger than he was.

  “Fuck, I’m old,” he grumbled as they made their way through the busy interior.

  “Come on, thirty-two isn’t that old,” Anderson retorted. “You’re right at the peak of experience and physical viability. I really don’t know what you’re complaining about.”

  “I’m simply shaking my cane at the youngsters and shouting at them to get off my lawn, is all.” His mood improved a little when one of the dancing women sidled up against him. “Then again…”

  His enjoyment vanished, however, when he realized a couple of security people now waded through the crowded dance floor to reach them.

  “I’m sorry, sirs, but I’ll have to ask the two of you to come with me, please,” the female bouncer said calmly. The girl who tried to get his attention made a move to tell the woman to shove off, but the sight of a gun in her holster was enough to make her back down. It also immediately got the duo interested in seeing what it was that they wanted.

  If worse came to worst, Savage still had his knife. The woman’s holster had a buckle that still held the gun in place, and the safety was on too. It wasn’t the safest situation to be in, but it wasn’t untenable, at least for now. If things started to go south, he would make sure Anderson was out of the way before he stepped in. He wore some of that new light and useful body armor, but his idiot boss didn’t.

  He had given him all the nasty looks and nagging he could before they left the hotel. At one point, he’d even told him directly to go back to his room and get some body armor, hoping the words and attitude might trigger the dad in him and remind him that he’d likely said much the same thing to Damon more than once. But damn, the man was stubborn. Not only that, he was the boss. Aside from physically manhandling him into a suit, there really had been nothing more he could do. He had to assume there was a reason, even though it made no sense and his job a lot harder. If they ended up in a firefight, Anderson would have to stay back and let Savage handle it.

  They were led from inside the dance floor to a flight of stairs that ascended to what looked like a VIP section of the club. The area was closed off with its own personal DJ and a group of mostly women danced in an open section.

  There were three booths, each stood in a corner of the square room, where some of the other patrons were drinking, eating, or indulged in a card game. He wondered vaguely how they could hear each other over the dance music. Maybe they had some sort of sound isolator in there that kept the music out? He wasn’t sure if that even existed, but with all the technical advances, you couldn’t really be sure. So much new tech was coming out and even more these days with the Zoo out there to provide more and more surprises.

  Savage glanced at the fourth corner to the back and left of the room and immediately realized why they were there. The booth there was larger and more expansive and appeared to be a more private and exclusive VIP room with its own security. Five people sat in comfortable chairs, four of them women and dressed as skimpily as they could possibly be while still vaguely described as dressed. One man lounged in the back, his arms around two of the ladies.

  “Alvarez,” he said cheerfully. “Is that you?”

  The man looked up from his companions and grinned broadly when he saw the two men who had been brought in. “If it isn’t the savage. How the hell are you?”

  He gestured at the two armed bouncers beside him and another in front. “Right now, I’ll go with confused.”

  “Oh, come on, man.” The Mexican chuckled. “You did me a favor at home. Setting the record straight put me in good standing with my superiors. You know how I hired you to get rid of this Charles man who’s given us so much trouble? You’ve made your way through the world and I have to say, my organization really approves of your initiative.”

  “No…hard feelings then?”

  “The way I see it, you’re saving us money.” Alvarez indicated for the two men to step inside. “I’m sorry, but my people won’t let you enter without searching you first. I assume you came in armed?”

  Savage nodded. “Of course.”

  Anderson’s glance suggested caution. He obviously wondered if he knew what he was doing, and he nodded assurance. If it ended poorly, it wasn’t like the man would be able to say I told you so.

  The bouncers moved in brusquely and, in Anderson’s case anyway, professionally to frisk them for weapons. The female bouncer looked like she was taking her sweet time as she ran her fingers down the operative’s chest and his shoulders and drew his pistol out of his pocket suggestively.

  His eyes widened when her hands wandered into areas that were unlikely to contain any weapons. “Will you buy me a drink after this?”

  She didn’t respond but backed away from him quickly. Without meeting his eyes, she gestured that he was clear to go. She hadn’t seen the knife hidden in his belt buckle, which was encouraging. It was a two-inch blade that he could pull out in a pinch. It obviously wouldn’t do much damage, but if the aim was to kill Alvarez before he was murdered himself, it would do nicely. Revenge was always sweetest when it couldn’t be returned.

  Savage dropped easily into a seat beside the Mexican. Anderson, for his part, looked rather uncomfortable about the situation, and he really couldn’t blame him. They were in an isolated place with a cartel boss who had reason to want them dead.

  “So, I’ve tracked your actions through the US,” their host said with a furtive glance around him. He also kept his voice low, which was encouraging. “To be honest, you have a very particular…style. We have all that talk about gang violence in our country, but the savage makes us look like girl scouts, am I right… What was your name again?”

  “James,” Anderson said softly like he wanted as little to do with the conversation as possible. “And yes, you are, in fact, right.”

  Alvarez grinned and sipped lazily before continuing. “I’d like to know how close you gentlemen are to catching this Charles. I need something to report back since I have it on record that you are working for us toward that goal.”

  “Here’s the situation, Al.” The operative leaned in closer and spoke in a confidential tone. “We intercepted one of his inside men and he told us he was supposed to make a drop here. I honestly didn’t know that you would be here to receive it.”

  Undeterred, the cartel boss chuckled. “I see. So, it was in the stars for us to cross paths again, my friend. We were told to wait here for some geek scientist who comes periodically with information and…well, tidbits we’re not supposed to ask questions about and merely pass along. We’re also not supposed to ask questions about where we send them. We merely call a number, and someone comes in and takes it away.”

  “Okay, here’s what you’ll do. We’ll get a drink, stick around for a couple of songs, and then we’ll leave. Once we’re done, you’ll call that number. They’ll ask you what data you have, and you say you have information instead. Tell them you know they’re looking for a man named James Anderson and that he’s staying at the Palm Hotel on the intersection between Wood and 49th. We’ll be there, and we’ll be waiting for them.”

  Anderson glared at him, clearly alarmed at the amount of information he had shared. It was the reaction he had been waiting for, of course. It would get Alvarez’
s attention and make him realize that James was actually this James Anderson. The ploy was something of a gamble, but based on his past interaction with the man, he thought the chances of it paying off were good. They seemed to be under the heel of this Charles character, and he guessed that Alvarez wanted to get him and his organization out from under that heel more than they wanted a single payout, however tempting it might be.

  He also counted on the cartel boss having a very clear recollection of what had happened on his visit to Mexico. He would hopefully assume that turning on Savage now would end with a lot of bodies, including his own. Self-preservation was one hell of a motivational tool.

  The man sent him a measured look and smiled. “You would do this for me?”

  “Hey, I figured I owe you one for my shenanigans in getting you to hire me. Besides, I really don’t want to repay half the down you shot my way and I won’t give you the other half. We already discussed this, but that’s gone on expenses. You know how it is, right?”

  “Of course, my friend. Now that we are done with business, how about we have that drink, eh?”

  “Do you mind if we get our weapons back?” Anderson asked, his eyebrow raised.

  “Sure, why not? We are all professionals here, yes?”

  “Yes.” Savage smiled as the bouncer handed his pistol back, and he tucked it quickly into its holster. “You really need to talk about professionalism in your own crew, though. They missed something the first time around.”

  The man narrowed his eyes when Savage tugged out the small knife that was secreted into his belt buckle. “Well, I thank you for pointing it out, and it will be brought up later when we’re alone.”

  He eyed the woman, who looked abashed and backed away slowly.

  “So…” The ex-colonel shoved his pistol back in his holster. “How about that drink? I’ve been dying for a Manhattan.”

  “Make that two. You know what, Manhattans all around.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Anderson glanced irritably to where Savage sat with no apparent care in the world. The man had a habit of looking like the universe didn’t affect him. Admittedly, his ribs had healed somewhat and the strap with a topical anesthetic would make sure they wouldn’t cause him too much pain. Treatment had reduced the swelling in his face, making him look less like someone dying from anaphylaxis and closer to his original, rugged self.

  It was difficult to tell if he was actually fine or was merely pretending. He honestly didn’t like it when people were that difficult to read. While he’d had a couple of hard cases in his unit back in the day, he’d also never figured out how to handle them. It made him feel out of control and antsy.

  The duo sat in the fading afternoon sunlight and watched one of the local parades. The pleasant ambiance made him feel the man was actually all right with his situation. He was a hard case, there was no denying that, but he wasn’t a liar. Savage didn’t hide his pain. He used it when necessary, but he also wasn’t stupid enough to charge around in a very dangerous occupation without making sure he was all right.

  Well, except for that time when he’d burst into Anderson’s country home and helped him fight his attackers off while being injured himself.

  Maybe a little stupid, then.

  “I don’t get it,” the operative said, his gaze focused absently on the people walking on the street below. “It’s not Mardi Gras. This celebration should be months away. Do you know what it is these people are actually celebrating?”

  Anderson shrugged. “Being alive? I don’t know, but the hotel obviously knew about it—otherwise, they wouldn’t have provided us with these.” He indicated the basket full of colorful plastic beads that had been out on the small balcony they now sat on when they’d checked in. This was Anderson’s room. Savage had taken one down the hall but considering that the man with the price on his head was Anderson, they’d thought laying the trap in his room was the best way to go about this.

  Savage smirked and focused on one of the floats moving down the street with a handful of young women dancing on top. When they saw the men watching them from the third floor, they uttered a cacophony of loud whoops, pulled their shirts up, and called for them to throw beads down. He obliged with a chuckle.

  “I have to say, I don’t hate this,” he said and sipped his beer with a scowl.

  Anderson narrowed his eyes. “With the painkillers you’re on, do you really think it’s a good idea to drink? It’s one thing to have a couple of drinks at the club, but you might want to avoid drinking too much.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” He grinned as a couple more women on the street flashed him in exchange for beads. “I talked with the doc, and he prescribed me painkillers that go well with alcohol, actually. I remember that because I thought I was high when he told me about it. It’s this new thing from the Zoo, apparently. Expensive, but hey, if Pegasus is footing the bill, what the hell, right?”

  The other man smirked. “Honestly, I think Pegasus were the ones who developed it.”

  “Wait, Pegasus has a pharmaceutical division?”

  “I’m reasonably sure they’re the ones that first started making money from the stuff taken out of the Zoo, so maybe?” He shrugged a little impatiently. “I may officially be the CEO, but we both know my role is focused more on the current threat and the…uh, military aspects of it all. The truth is that I know only enough to get by, and I bullshit through the rest. Courtney and that sidekick of hers handle everything else, so I’m seldom put in a situation where I have to know all the details. It’s a big company and they have fingers in every kind of pie imaginable. Whether that includes straight pharmaceutical as opposed to beauty treatments or whatever is not need to know.”

  “We have fingers in all kinds of pies, Anderson,” Savage grinned and threw another pair of beads to a couple more flashers. “Pegasus is a we now.”

  “Fuck you.”

  The operative squinted in surprise as a handful of women—who looked like they were barely old enough to start college—thought they would give the flash for beads the old college try. He obliged their courage.

  “I’m easily bribed,” he explained when his companion flashed him a disapproving look.

  “Clearly.” He passed the beads in his hand to Savage. “I need to go inside and get another drink. I’m obviously too old and too taken to do any of this.”

  “Believe me, man, you’re lucky.” He scattered their beads over the railing.

  “Yeah, if this story ever comes up in the future, be sure to tell Ivy I took the high road and didn’t see anything,” he yelled from inside as he tugged a couple of tiny bottles of bourbon from the minibar and poured them into a glass. He wasn’t taking any painkillers so could afford to be liberal.

  “I’d joke about that,” Savage responded. “But I don’t want you to shoot me in the back in case you feel you need to cover your tracks and make sure the story of how you peeked at younger women exposing themselves to us never leaves this room.”

  “I didn’t peek.” He shook his head vehemently.

  “I hate to interrupt what I’m sure is a very vital and important conversation,” Anja broke in through their earpieces. “But I’m getting interference near your rooms that tells me someone else is using an encrypted channel in the same area. The cameras in the hotel indicate that you are about to have some company.”

  The operative pushed to his feet and entered the room to close the door firmly behind him. Anderson assumed there was impending violence and he didn’t want anyone on the street to have their festivities interrupted by the sound of gunfire and screaming.

  That was what a good neighbor did, after all.

  Savage drew his pistol, clicked the safety off, and yanked a combat knife out to hold in his free hand as he indicated for Anderson to move away from the door.

  “How close are they?” he asked as he stepped in behind the door and assumed a defensive position.

  “The hotel only has one camera covering the elevator, so
they should be seconds away,” the hacker replied.

  He nodded and eased in opposite where the door would open, giving himself cover as he heard it unlock. Someone had found something that could override the keycard lock. He sucked in a deep breath and adjusted his grips on his weapons. The light was on so any attackers would know there was someone in the room.

  Anderson ducked behind the minibar with a SIG in his hand, the barrel elongated with a suppressor. He promised himself to track down one of those needle-shooting guns Savage had. While they weren’t readily available, it wasn’t impossible that other prototypes couldn’t be sourced—or that someone would be willing to replicate it for sufficient incentive. It was a little bulkier than the average pistol, but it only needed to reload after firing a hundred or so times, for one thing. The silence aspect also made it even better than a suppressed weapon, so all in all, the pros far outweighed the cons.

  The door opened slowly and an MP5 slid around the corner. Anderson pulled back instinctively. He tried not to make a sound and was wildly aware that his heart raced at a hundred miles an hour. There seemed no doubt that they would hear it and open fire. The minibar fridge would cover him for the most part, especially if all they had were 9mm rounds. But small fridges and the concrete walls they were propped up on weren’t made to absorb gunfire. To rely on them to be all the cover he needed was the kind of gamble people made for money, not their lives.

  The first masked man pushed through the entry and predictably, he immediately swept the room. Savage came in from behind him and squeezed the trigger on his specialized weapon. It still seemed unnatural that a weapon like that would produce no sound. Anderson couldn’t help flinching as the weapon fired with the barest hint of a whoosh and the intruder who had taken point dropped without a word.

  While he didn’t see the exact moment when the needle punched into the man, he did see him succumb almost immediately with blood leaking out the back of his head. Another whoosh and thud felled a second man. Anderson eased around the corner and paused. One of the men was tangled with Savage, having gotten in too close to shoot. A fourth member of the attack team stood near the door and tried to place a shot around his—no, her, he realized as her mask came down—comrade in arms.