Page 92 of Savage Reckoning

“Wakey, wakey, Mr Sawyer. I don’t have all day to wait while you take a nap.” He has me by the hair again, my head forced backwards. He slaps me across the face. “I asked you a question.”

“I don’t work for Ethan Savage,” I mumble through what I’m sure is a broken jaw.

He slaps me again, so my head snaps back, but the chair somehow remains upright. “Shall we be perfectly clear, Sawyer? You are about to die. Maybe in the next few minutes, maybe hours. But be assured, it will be an unpleasant death. Just how painful, and how long the agony is dragged out for, is up to me. And I am not in a good mood. You cost me one of my best men. You destroyed lucrative business interests of mine. There have to be consequences. You of all people must understand this.”

“I work for the US military,” I mutter. “Harm me, and it’s them who’ll come after you.” Except, no one Stateside has the faintest idea where I am or what I’m up to. And now that I’m separated from the Caraksay organisation, I’m on my own.

“You’ve been doing Savage’s dirty work. Did he order the killing of Fedor?”

“It was nothing to do with him. I work for—” A rifle butt to the side of my head sends me to the floor all over again. This time it takes two buckets of water to bring me halfway to my senses.

“Shall we try another tack? Where is the woman?”

“What woman?” I manage, genuinely baffled.

“Cristina Bival.” He bends over me. “My woman, by rights. That bastard abducted her.”

I have no idea how or when Ethan and Cristina met, but there’s no doubt in my fuddled head that Sokolov is delusional. Cristina is on Caraksay of her own free will. I say as much, which earns me another kick to the ribs.

“There was an arrangement, with her father.” Sokolov is almost shrieking now. He’s on his feet, pacing around me, relating the tale as he sees it. “The old man died, but the son should have honoured our agreement. The contract was signed, she was mine. She is mine. I can give her everything she deserves, lay most of Europe at her feet. What does he have to offer? A life on that barren lump of rock?”

The attack is starting to make sense. It wasn’t just about the money, though the fee would have been welcome, I suppose. But in reality, the motive was personal. Sokolov has his greedy, self-entitled eye on Ethan Savage’s wife.

“You’re fucking mad,” I growl. “Cristina Savage wouldn’t look twice at you. She wouldn’t piss on you if you were on fire.”

“She’s a woman, she’ll do as she’s told and come to love it. They’re all the same. A few nice dresses, jewels, exotic holidays, and she’ll see what’s good for her.”

“Dream on,” I mumble.

“Where is she? My man informs me that Savage sent the females away. Where did they go?”

“Fuck you,” I offer.

“You will tell me, or I start slicing pieces off you.”

“Yeah, right,” I taunt. I have nothing to lose, he’s going to kill me anyway. For all I know he may have his slimy tentacles reaching into Moldova and may decide to go after Cristina again. I won’t be helping him to do that.

“Your ears to start, then your nose. Your eyes. One at a time.” He snaps his fingers again, and one of his men places a blade in his hand. “You won’t have such a pretty face when I’m done.”

“He’ll find you, eventually. You can’t hide forever…”

“He has no fucking clue, but I’m coming for him. I’ll sink that island of his, I’ll burn it to the ground.”

“Like you did before? You’ll be needing a few more helicopters, asshole. And another army to replace the one Ethan wiped out.”

He lets out a bellow of sheer rage and grabs my right ear by the lobe. I brace for the pain, just as the warehouse explodes about us.

CHAPTER 21

Six hours earlier, on Caraksay

Megan

“Are you sure? There’s no mistake?” My eyes are glued to the big screen in Ethan’s office where the drone footage is playing over again. We’ve already watched it three times.

“You’ve seen what we’ve seen. Jed’s contact on the Irish mainland managed to capture all of this.” Ethan points the remote at the screen to zoom in. “His equipment is military grade, the images are crystal clear, even from forty thousand feet. We see them disembarking and loading your guy into the back of a vehicle.”

The images also show them knee-capping Gabe on the jetty. Bile rises in my throat, and I silently beg not to be forced to view that again. He looks to be still alive when they throw him into the boot, but this was hours ago.

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