Page 5 of Savage Protector

“Yes, you’re probably right.” He stands before me, his hands in his pockets as he regards me with interest. “Although, I do have another idea.”

I return his gaze.

“I’m going to offer you a job, Zayn Abbassi.”

I think that battering must have affected my hearing. “What did you say?”

“A job, Zayn. How would you like to work for me instead?”

“I don’t even know who you are.”

“My apologies. Ethan Savage. I’d shake hands, but…”

My hands are still secured behind my back, but I appreciate the sentiment. And the name is familiar to me. Ethan Savage heads up one of the biggest criminal networks in Europe, if not the world. I’m in illustrious company.

“What would I be doing, Mr Savage?”

“Much the same as you do now. You’ve got a lot to learn, but I see potential in you. With the right training I think you could make yourself useful. More to the point, you’re loyal where it matters, and you have courage. As I told young Bilal, I admire that.” He pauses, then, “Well? Are you on board or not?”

“If I say no?”

He shrugs. “Then you’re on your own. I’ll wish you a good day and good luck.”

“I see.” It was always a no-brainer, really. “Count me in, Mr Savage.”

1

Caernsbro Ghyll, April 2023

Zayn

“Nico,Zayn. You’re with me. You, too, Rome.”

We look up from our poker game. Jack is silhouetted in the doorway.

He turns to stalk off down the hallway, yelling back over his shoulder, “Outside in ten. Be tooled up.”

We fold our cards, something of a relief to me as I only had a pair of eights. I suspect Rome was doing better. He appears gutted. We sprint down to the gun room in the basement where Nico and I select our favourite assault rifles and Rome goes for a standard Glock. We grab Kevlar vests as well, you never know. I always carry a decent blade tucked in my belt, so I consider myself suitably armed when we head back upstairs and outside onto the forecourt of the Savage family mansion.

The family no longer reside here. Some years ago, Ethan Savage moved his closest family and business headquarters to his stronghold on Caraksay, a private island in the Outer Hebrides. The sprawling family residence, Caernbro Ghyll, now serves as the Savage empire’s primary headquarters on the mainland. It’s a training facility, as well as providing accommodation for those of his crew who want to live here.

It suits me. Comfortable, convenient, close to the city but far enough away to allow me the peace and quiet I need to hone my craft. I’ve been here for almost five years now, and I like to think I’ve fulfilled the promise the boss saw in me. I’ve been useful.

I’m a decent driver, and I don’t shy away from the wet work, though I’m not sorry that there’s a lot less call for it with the Savages than there was with Malik. Violence hovers in the wings, always, but is applied judiciously, only when required. Discipline is essential, examples must be made from time to time. Mostly my role is as an enforcer, providing backup when anyone needs reminding of their ‘obligations’. Late payments or pilfering are not tolerated in Ethan Savage’s establishments, and we make sure no one is less than clear about that.

I assume this latest call will be something along those lines, so I’m surprised to emerge into the afternoon sunlight to find the Caraksay helicopter waiting for us. Jack is already on board, and the three of us scramble in beside him.

“Where are we going, boss?” Rome enquires once we are all belted in.

“Newcastle,” he replies as we soar into the air. “Ethan, Tony, and Aaron will meet us there.”

Jack is Ethan Savage’s second-in-command, and Tony is one step down from him. He is mostly based on Caraksay these days, though he hops between the two sites as his wife and foster son live here at Caernbro Ghyll. Aaron is Ethan’s younger brother, a sort of joint, unofficial underboss alongside Jack, though Jack is much more hands-on and everyone but Ethan defers to him. We don’t see that much of Aaron. He lives in Berwick-Upon-Tweed on the border between Scotland and England because his wife’s business is located there. He mainly deals with what he calls ‘strategy and development’, which seems to boil down to identifying property and business interests we want to acquire and negotiating the terms.

We exchange puzzled glances. As far as I can recall, we don’t have business interests in Newcastle. That turf is run by the Gallagher brothers, not exactly friends of ours, but we maintain an uneasy truce based on mutual distrust and staying out of each other’s way.

“What’s going on, boss?” I ask.

“Debt collecting,” he replies. “Eddie Gallagher agreed to purchase five hundred grands’ worth of product from us, but now only wants to pay half that. He has the goods; we want our money.”

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