Tex's Revenge: Military Discipline, Book Two (16 page)

“That's what happens when you hire machine people,” she muttered to herself. “No common sense.”

“What are you doing?” Johnny's inquiry was made far more out of interest than censure as he looked over her shoulder.

“Going to get some decent clothes.” She grinned and flashed the credit card Tex had given her.

His expression brightened. “Seriously? You did all this just to shop?”

“Yep.”

His approval was as enthusiastic as it was genuine. “Nice.”

She reached down and rubbed her aching leg. It didn't help. “It will be nice once I find something not ugly. Is everything in this place mandatorily ugly?”

“Tex has Mormon sensibilities. Count yourself lucky you don't have to cover your hair,” Johnny quipped.

She scratched her head, momentarily confused. “Isn't that the Amish?”

“Maybe, I can't keep up with it all from one day to the next,” Johnny said, leaning against the table next to her as she began searching through clothing sites for something she didn't hate. He wasn't shy about offering his opinion and she wasn't too proud to take it.

They got thoroughly caught up in their shopping, a little too caught up for their own good. “Earth tones, you suit earth tones,” Johnny was saying when the door at the far end of the hall opened. The area they were in was dark, lit only by the glow of the monitor. Whoever it was would be able to see them, but they could only stare into black space as footsteps scuffed and echoed in the darkness. The urge to run and hide was almost overwhelming but Zora was trapped in her wheelchair, unable to move as the unseen and menacing figure drew steadily closer.

Chapter Eleven

Zora almost stopped breathing as the tall figure emerged into the pale light. “What are you doing?” Tex's voice was short and clipped and sharp. He was, to Zora's delight, wearing slippers and a smoking jacket over black velvet pajamas. Clearly he'd been roused from his bed, which tickled her immensely. His eyes darted from her to Johnny, suspicion and irritation clearly marked in their expression.

“Shopping online,” Zora said, playing it cool.“What's this place's address?”

Tex ignored her perfectly reasonable question and turned his wrath on the younger man. “You're supposed to be watching her.”

“I am watching her.” Johnny said simply. “Would you like a location on her?” He mimed checking his wrist as if there was some location device on it. “I have her at the computer in the reception area. Over.”

Zora snorted a little too loudly at the unexpected cheek. Tex looked pissed. His lips had grown so thin from being pressed together that his mouth was in danger of disappearing altogether. “Get her back to the hospital wing then report to me.”

“Then who will watch her? She's faster than you think,” Johnny smirked.

“We can probably find someone who doesn't abandon his post.” Tex almost snarled the words.

Johnny lifted his chin and defended himself. “I didn't abandon my post. My post is busy trying to work out whether her ass looks better in CK or Diesel.”

“It's really not his fault,” Zora chimed in before Tex eviscerated Johnny where he stood.

She managed to get Tex's attention back on her. “You mean to say you're such a potent bad influence you can turn anyone insubordinate within an hour?”

“He's not being insubordinate. He's trying to subordinate very hard,” she said with a little smile. “I dragged him into this. Actually I wheeled him into it.”

Tiring of the argument, Tex jerked his head towards the hall door. “Johnny, back to your quarters. Send Sanders.”

Johnny might have been a smart ass, but he didn't disobey a direct order. Zora felt bereft as he walked down the hall. Something about the way he looked disappearing into the darkness put her in mind of the way Savage had left. “You're going to send everyone I don't completely hate away from me, aren't you?” She made no effort to hide the bitterness in her tone or the loathing in her eyes as she glowered up at the man who ruined everything.

“You might want to worry more about yourself and less about everyone else,” Tex replied. “You have a bullet hole in your leg.”

“Really? I'd forgotten.” Her tone dripped sarcasm. “Tell me more about myself.”

“I'm going to put this down to the concussion,” he said, remaining patient in spite of her misbehavior. “But tomorrow you better have a more respectful attitude... ah Sanders.” A behemoth of a man emerged from the shadows like a cross between an ox and a wraith.

Zora looked up at the newcomer with a mixture of awe and irritation. Unlike Johnny, Sanders conformed to the stereotype she'd come to expect. Large and serious, he had his blonde hair cut into a flat buzz cut, lest anyone think his light locks reflected any lightness of spirit. Sanders might once have had a range of facial expressions, but it had long ago been replaced with one of blank disinterest in the world.

“Escort Miss Matthews back to her hospital bed and make sure she stays there would you?” Tex gave the order.

“Yes sir.” Sanders took the back of her wheelchair and wheeled her back to the ward without saying another word. Zora maintained a similar silence though hers rose from a deep sulk nobody particularly cared about.

When they regained the hospital wing Sanders stopped the chair in front of her metal framed padded prison. “In bed.” Even missing the imperative, it was clearly an order.

“No.”

Her refusal was met with swift action. He scooped her out of the chair and put her down on the bed with one more solid word. “Stay.”

“Wuff.”

There was no reaction on his face at all. She wondered what must have happened to him to make him so blank. Had he been born that way? Giving up on getting any reaction from the man ever, she feigned sleep until he went out of the room. She reckoned he'd probably have stationed himself by the door. For fun, Zora pressed the call button then sat in bed and listened to Sanders and the nurse argue over whether or  not she needed to go in. Sanders prevailed, as she suspected he might and the nurse was turned away.

Half an hour or so later sleep still evaded her so she decided to climb out the window. They were on the ground floor and she was still dressed. It hurt her leg like hell to do so much movement, but she was being powered by spite and spite is a far more powerful motivator than pain. Once outside in the flower bed, she dragged herself around to the front door and knocked, causing great consternation to security when they discovered the disheveled woman standing unexpectedly outside like a sod stained specter.

Fortunately one of the team recognized her and Tex was called from his bed once more. He looked tired and irritable. She almost felt sorry for him. Almost. Muttering noises about how nobody could be trusted to do a simple job he picked her up and carried her back to her bed himself. He put her down quite a bit more firmly than Sanders had and pointed a finger at her. “If you move out of that bed again, I'm going to have you cuffed to it.”

“Just let Johnny watch me and there won't be a problem,” she said sweetly.

There was a sigh of annoyance and then, against all odds, she got her way. “Fine,” he said. “But remember, you're not the only one you'll get in trouble if you insist on acting like a little idiot.”

“That's a bit harsh.”

“I haven't begun to show you harsh.” Tex let the threat hang as he walked away.

Johnny showed up a few minutes later. She was glad to see that he didn't seem to be any the worse for wear. “You asked for me? Why?”

She put on a concerned face.“I figured they'd probably do something nasty to you if I didn't.”

It didn't fool him for a second. His friendly smile spread wide across his face. “Admit it, you missed me.”

He sat back in the chair and propped his feet up on the edge of the mattress. It made a small heavy weighted dip which made Zora feel very comfortable and safe, or at least less alone in the world. “I can't believe you spoke to him like that,” she said in a sleepy mutter.

“To Tex?” Johnny grinned. “It's fun winding him up. He's such a square.”

“A square? The sixties called, they want their vocabulary back.”

“Hey, if the shape fits,” Johnny shrugged.

“I'm surprised he allows it.”

“He probably wouldn't if it weren't the middle of the night, if we hadn't been alone and up after dark. He can be a softie sometimes.”

“He's never been soft to me,” Zora said, shifting onto her side to gaze at Johnny with curious eyes. “Does he hit you?”

Johnny tilted his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“I mean does he hit you if you're bad?”

“He wouldn't get very far if he went around hitting the men here,” Johnny replied, his lips twisting at the idea. “Mr Tex is many things, but he is not a fighter.”

Zora inspected Johnny. Yeah, he wasn't tall but he was pretty solid and there was a dynamic energy about him that gave her the distinct impression he wasn't likely to submit to anyone easily. “He hits me,” she admitted.

Johnny's expression darkened. “He hits you how?”

“Well he... he uhm...” She looked for words in her brain that would impart the message without being so terribly embarrassing. “Hits my ass.”

“He hits.. your ass...” Johnny repeated the words slowly. “You mean he spanks you?”

“Yeah.” Zora buried her face in her pillows.

“And you let him?”

She lifted her head up and gave him a look. “I don't exactly have a lot of choice. He might not be a fighter, but he's bigger than me.”

“Girl, you don't have to be bigger to stop someone from hitting you.” Johnny's frown alone told Zora that he didn't approve of what he was hearing. “You need to stand up for yourself.”

“Yeah, that's not really worked out for me lately,” Zora said, shaking her head. He couldn't possibly understand what she'd been through. She'd stood up for herself plenty and it always ended badly.

“I'll help you,” he offered.

“How?”

“I'll teach you how to stop yourself from getting hit at the very least. I would have thought your Savage would have done that.”

“I don't think he wants me knowing that either.” Zora noticed that Johnny had mentioned Savage's name without her ever having made reference to him. Obviously Johnny knew more than he was letting on.

Johnny's eyes narrowed. “He hits you too?”

“Sometimes.”

“Zora.” The disappointment in Johnny's voice was real. “No. That's not okay.”

“It's probably better than the bullets I would have gotten otherwise.”

He tilted his head towards the lower half of her body. “You mean like the one you have in your leg?”

“This was from someone who'd never hit me.” She tried a wry smile. “You see, if they spank me then they don't shoot me.”

“It's not an either or,” Johnny said, rolling his eyes.

“It might be.”

“I haven't done either.”

“You've only known me for five minutes. You'll do one or the other eventually.” She was kidding really, but a little part of her thought it might be true. As laid back and smart mouthed as he was, Johnny was doing a job. He wasn't on her side anymore than Tex was, not really.

“Give me a little more credit than that. Or at least the benefit of the doubt,” Johnny said, shaking his head. “So jaded for one so young.”

She grinned. “We both know I'm not young.”

“You're not old enough to be this cynical, grandma.”

“Careful whippersnapper. You'll be the one getting beaten,” she shook her fist at him.

“Oh no,” Johnny shook his head vehemently. “That shit would not fly with me. And it won't fly with you either once I'm done with you.”

“Okay, you can fix me tomorrow,” Zora yawned. “Right now I'm tired.”

“Go to sleep,” Johnny smiled. “I'll watch your back.”

Johnny turned out the light and returned to his position leaning back in the chair, his feet on the bed. Secure with his comforting presence nearby, Zora soon fell into a deep sleep.

* * *

Sand. More sand. And sorrow.

Savage stood watchfully above an open air chamber in which a raucous party was taking place. Below his feet men and women danced and twirled and drank and snorted white stuff that wasn't sugar. He was being used, more or less, as a living Ken doll. The rifle in his arms was as oversized as it was impractical for the purposes of standing around looking imposing. The OCIW M-29 could kill a man hiding behind a two foot thick concrete wall, assuming you could heft it into place in time. Repeated sweeps and analysis had revealed that there were no hostile forces anywhere in the vicinity, the Sheik, a young man barely twenty years old had employed the team mostly for the purposes of looking impressive.

It was impossible not to resent being pulled away from Zora simply to stroke the ego of some coddled brat. He strongly suspected Tex knew that the mission was little more than busy work. What was the man planning? He believed the man when he said he wasn't romantically interested in Zora, but there was definitely something going on there. Tex wanted him out of the way.

Was it simply to prove a point? Or was there something else going on? Savage wracked his brains, frustrated by the distance whilst dancing girls clad in muslin clothing that left nothing to the imagination cavorted under his nose in an enticing display.

A man in black fatigues and aviator sunglasses approached from his left side. “Sir.”

Savage answered without turning to the soldier. “Yes?”

“You asked for news on Ms Matthews.”

That made him turn his head. “Has something happened?”

“She was shot a week ago. Minor wound.”

Savage's jaw went hard. “Why was I not informed earlier?”

“It was classified, sir.”

“Classified?”

“Need to know only. Only just trickled through the vine now.”

“Here,” Savage said, thrusting the oversized weapon into the young man's arms. “Hold this.” He strode away from his post, leaving nothing but dusty haze in his wake.

* * *

Johnny and Zora quickly became inseparable, the sort of friends who didn't even bother to finish their own sentences because they knew the other would understand without all those unnecessary extra words. True to his word, Johnny showed her a few tricks for getting people to back off, some of them not even requiring all that much strength or effort. Most of them involved poking and breaking things that didn't like to be poked and broken.