Post by Tony Savage on Nov 15, 2017 15:15:36 GMT -5
The Bronx, New York, New York
15 Nov. 2017 11:41 E.S.T
It'd been months since I felt this jubilant. Wrestling for that bullshit outfit Megan and Carlos are slumming in, it was hell on Earth after awhile. EWC made me hate the industry for a minute. Don't want to get into it too much, considering it's rude to even mention their name at the new job, but...
When you treat people that bust their asses to make you rich like shit, don't be surprised if they stop tolerating the stench!
That's why I'm LOVING the new digs. Management lets me do what I do with little interference, I enjoy helping an up and comer fed grow (and we have been growing QUICK), and I'm back to doing what I do best: mother...fucking....WINNING!
Plus, I get to share my very first Thanksgiving with my son. I pay $12k in child support plus thousands each month for his college fund; I get macaroni art and a funny looking Crayola rendition of my Aston Martin. Money well spent. Hey, he's 4; getting him to sit long enough to even make that pic for me was a Herculean effort.
Life is good, and after a hype training session, I was surfing cloud 9 when Tiff comes rolling up on me, pale as a ghostBoss, you got a visitor.
Wasn't sure why Tiff was nervous, until some of the guys gathered around my office, with their hands around their heaters and faces displaying straight up disdain and hatred. Frank, the grizzled old man that happens to be one of my lieutenants and an avid lover of LSD, tried to warn me:Kid, you don't wanna go in there; we're trying to get him out of the building.
Really? C'mon, old school. I practically live in a universe where I beef with everyone like a cattle rancher;
what's so different about....
Then, Frank tells me the name. That's why, 30 seconds later, there's a D.C. bureaucrat with a broken jaw,
an office door kicked off it's hinges, and a gaggle of military officers with sidearms drawn at my head. And for good reason; I'm currently choking the life out of their superior officer.
COCK-SUCKING PIECE OF SHIT!! I SHOULDA BUTCHERED YOU AND YOUR WHOLE FUCKING FAMILY AFTER WHAT YOU DID TO ME IN MEXICO!!
The man whose life i'm choking out of, that is one General William S. Bennington. Bennington was in charge of a Joint Task Force based out of Fort Bliss, Texas. The JTF was a venture between multiple U.S. military and law enforcement branches, in conjunction with the Mexican government, to combat drug trafficking and all the trappings that came with it. It was always a joke; between the corruption and the ineptitude and the inter-agency in-fighting, it never worked right. The last job I did for them before leaving the Army; it nearly cost me everything. For a few others, it actually did.
But, suppose I should let him go, now that half a dozen soldiers are holding Glocks to my dome, giving me one last chance to release the General. Even some dip-shit Lieutenant tried to tough talk me:Not so tough now, huh, burnout?
I wouldn't get cocky, son. Staff Sergeant Savage would kill you in 6 seconds, then go on to kill half a dozen people that looked like you. Besides....*clutching his bruising neck*...I kind of had that coming.
Gen. Bennington dismisses his staff, their opposition to that idea very vocal, but, they do as ordered. Tony's still fuming; toweling off the sweat from his workout and pouring 2 highballs of bourbon. He pretends to hand the general a glass, only to be a real dick and suck down both drinks.Make it quick and worth my time, and mind you; you try treating me like your subordinate again, your ass ain't leaving here in a fucking limo; I can tell you that. Your lift will have sirens and EMT staff, dig me?
*Nodding* Alright, I will....
I need your help.
Ever done a spit take with a mouth fulla bourbon? Quite painful, especially when it gets up your nose.Damn, I am glad I didn't offer you a drink; sounds like you've already hit happy hour too hard. You got some fucking nerve....
Yeah, yeah, I know; we fucked up. How many times do I have to apologize?
Considering you nor the powers that be ever did, once would be nice.
Tony, you knew the risks...
Don't feed me that tired ass line, General:the disdain is dripping off his lips as he enunciates General.If I had known that the fucking feds were gonna feed me and my team to the fucking Cartel just so the DEA can score a few extra leads, Id've told y'all to kiss my redneck ass! You fucking played me! I lost 3 guys that day, and you...*starts stuttering*....you know what the hell happened to me in Juarez....
Too well. The whole thing was fucked; it was out of my hands...
Bullshit; you're such a goddamn micro-manager, you'd change the shape of your shits if you could. Don't tell me it was out of your hands!
I am a lot of things, Tony. Asshole, uptight, Hell, you should hear the shit my wife stacks on me. But, you knew me since Afghanistan. When have I ever been a liar?
He hands Tony off some pictures:You know these gents; the portly Mexican fellow there, that's...
Hector Montoya; he was the #3 guy with Los Imperiales Cartel...
Was; now he's the big dog in that kennel, the new boss. Took over a year ago, and the Cartel has been on a tear, making up ground in the Cartel wars across the border. He was the guy that...well...I don't have to explain what he did to you for 3 weeks....
The other man; the white boy that looks like an L.L. Bean catalog model with...
That shitty entitled look on his face that's standard issue for D.E.A. agents, John Morgan.
Morgan's one of the top men for the agency now down in Mexico, and he's personally handles Montoya in regards to agency business with him. He was the one that superseded my authority and left you and your team to die. The agency's been turning a blind eye towards his activities, despite the fact this motherfucker's dirty as hell. Between his connections in D.C. and Montoya's backing, nobody can touch this guy. Hell, Savage, he's even forcing me to retire, thanks to some savvy politicking in the Pentagon.
Forgive me for not shedding any tears for your career failing. So, you come here and show me he salt that's about to be poured into my wounds? Great, thanks for the trip down memory lane. What's new; you made monsters now you can't control, how do I figure into the equation?
Simple, Tony; these are the two men that fucked your life up and got your friends killed...
How would you like to return the favor to them?
I hate this man in my office. I hate him with every fiber in my body. So, that's why I'm shocked that I'm suddenly handing him a drinking, growling through my teeth....
Keep....fucking....talking!
TBC