Post by Savage on Jan 19, 2020 21:30:31 GMT -6
New York, New York
01/19/2020 1:36 PM Eastern Standard Time
Took the liberty of ordering for you. Figured you could use a treat, considering your rather spartan dietary habits these days.
New York is full of British ex-pats and dual citizens. This pub in Manhattan was authentic, could have passed mustard for a spot in Liverpool or North London.The elder gentleman sporting the Nick Fury look was familiar with the owner; they served with each other during the Falklands campaign decades ago as young British Special Air Service paratroopers trying to extract their mates out of the fire. The barkeep/owner is alive and serving pints to tourists and immigrants from home thanks to the man meeting Tony Savage, which is the reason a $400 bottle of Macallan Rare Cask Whisky and two highballs are sitting on the table no charge.
The old man lost his eye on that mission, and was awarded a Victorian Cross for compensation.
This relic from the Ronald Reagan/Margaret Thatcher era went by the name of Sir Charles David Baker, retired Colonel of Her Majesty's Royal S.A.S. But Tonyand his wife Cassandra called him by a different name...
Dad. Didn't expect you here in N.Y. Wanted to tell you we'll be back next weekend. Got a gig with one of my feds in Wembley next week...oooh, the good stuff!
Tony sits down and pours a double of that sweet auburn nectar into a highball glass. Charles and Tony raise glasses. He couldn't help but like his father in law; the guy was a throwback to a bygone era of English gentry. Reserved, classy, and always emitted an aura of dignity and refinement. He was the one the re-emphasized to Tony somebody with his wealth and stature had to act at times in a manner reflecting that status.
Tony, who pretty much drinks nothing but bottled water and those nasty smoothies his wife insists he chugs down, lets that whisky dance on his tongue.
Tastes like heaven. Looking at the now half empty glass in admiration.Always had your booze game down pat, Colonel.
What you expose your palette to is a reflection of how you treat yourself. Besides, a proper drink was in order. I was hoping Cassandra would be here for this. He laments, sliding a chestnut brown briefcase on the table and opening it.
Yeah, but she had exams to oversee and grade back in Dallas. I tell you, she's never been so happy. All that money working in banking and with me, and it turns out a part time tenure as a professor would be the thing that floats her boat.
Both of you have found your rhythms in life now. Age and years of trial and error tend to do that. You're far removed from the man that let the demons nearly run you down. I always worried about you, son. You were always your own worst adversary. But you took the steps necessary to fix those issues.
One of those "He who conquers himself conquers the universal" deals, huh?
Quoting Marlowe's Faust. Fitting, Since both men deal with devils to get what they need.
Charles smiles, opening the case. Its contents are forms and envelopes with the U.K. Ministry of Defence logo stamped all over them, along with a laminated I.D. card. Contractor and security credentials. Tony's eyes widen; he looks like a kid who got his Christmas present early.
So, we're in.
Had to expend several favors owed to me, but, the screening process was expedited. Congratulations, son in law of mine, we,Savage Solutions, are now officially a supplier and contractor for her Majesty's armed forces.
Yup; the holidays came again, and left a $65 million over four years contract with the U.K. government. Tony was looking at well over 1, maybe 2 million in commission, plus thousands in residuals over that span. And with a major government's propensity for ordering things on the fly, Tony and the Savage Solutions crew were going to eat well thanks to the crown. Plus, along with their deals with the U.S. military and places like Nigeria and South Africa relying heavily on their security services, the company was growing leaps and bounds. This is part of the reason Tony could lose a quarter mil in a wrestling match and just shrug it off as a business expense.
Fuck racks, Tony made cabinets. And with the money from wrestling, boxing, and endorsements flowing again, he was about to become a fucking furniture wholesaler.
Tony grinned that smile that pushed products and downed the rest of his drink, gleefully pouring up another cup.
We can have the first 2 shipments on the boat and leaving Houston by Thursday. Dad and the boys are gonna shit themselves once they see those wire transfers.
I also took the liberty of discussing work with Thames shipping. Pirate activity along East Africa has increased the last few months. They already had to pay ransom on one of their tankers and the crew. Understandably, they're getting quite irritated about it.
That's why I like pirates, Charles; people pay you well to get rid of them, and you don't feel the least bad about what you do to them. Almost feel bad I'm not going along; been a minute since this scurvy dog hunted pirate.
But, he made a promise to Cass, despite her not asking; no more merc work. Bad enough Tony dealt with amped up morons wielding barbed wire baseballs bat and steel chairs; the guys with the guns were worse. They don't settle beef by challenging you to a steel cage match; they show up to the spot and light it up with hollow points loaded in their toys. Besides, he was enjoying a life of a man who collected the check from the shop while making money off his favorite hobby.
For most wrestlers, it was their careers. For Tony, it was retirement activities from a far more dangerous game.
Heard you're having a squabble with a clan from coal country at Global.
You pay attention to that stuff? Cass can't even watch it most the time.
I keep track of not just family, but investments. Understand fully what you have to do, just...
Yeah, don't tip like last time. Jesus...
He's slow sipping the booze now. Thanks to a cleaner lifestyle, his tolerance isn't what it used to be.
Definitely want to handle things differently. Believe me; take no joy lighting up an old man like that like back in the day, but like merc crews, you have to send a message about overstepping boundaries.
Except merc crews were usually smart enough to back off. Grapplers aren't geniuses by any means. Very hard headed bunch.
Still doing therapy sessions?
Of course. Veterans Affairs got me a new therapist. Guy is fantastic. And I'm doing all the coping exercises and the program. You just have to develop a routine with mental health treatment, like anything else.
Charles points at his eye.Back in my era, they would have either told us to suck it up and drive on, or dispose of us and feed us a pension check. Different world; makes me feel like a dinosaur.
Hell, I just turned 30, and I already feel like a geezer that needs a rocking chair. Damn world moves so fast anymore.
Yet, you keep pace. This time last year, you were a borderline wreck looking to rebuild. Now, you're building something across the board that is grand in scope.
From promoting new fighters, to new feds, and even boxing, Tony was making major moves. He was in prime position to blow up even larger than his supposed peak back between 2016-2018. By this time net year, he'd have enough for his kids to retire if it all worked out right. He just had to stick to the program.
Though, to be fair, life sometimes throws a broom handle into the spokes of the wheels.
You learned to exorcise the ghosts of your past enough to move on to a brighter future. Plenty of work for you to do...
Especially with your boxing.Your defense was rubbish last fight.
Oh,you busting my balls about that too? You and Cass...
Tony can't help but laugh. This is the man that passed the constantly busting balls gene to his beloved.
I should know a thing or two about pugilism; I used to be a champion in my college days at Cambridge...
Yeah, old timer, back when the Beatles were breaking up. Techniques kind of advanced since the cocaine and bell bottoms era.
*laughing* Yes, some things changes. But some fundamentals don't. But please, Tony, anytime those skeletons in your closet try to haunt you, you just remember to stay the course. and of course, goes without saying, you have people who have your back.
While his mother in law wasn't a fan of his, Cass's dad went out of the way to accept Tony. It worked out well; not only was Tony an amazing husband to her by all accounts, the guy went out of the way for his kin. And it didn't hurt he was a money maker to boot. Both the gentlemen sitting at the table enjoyed rather expensive lifestyles.
They raise their glasses again.
To not letting ghosts haunt us.
Indeed.
But their glasses barely touched, when the old war horse looked out the window, and his already pale complexion turned several shades whiter.
And old man with a snowy beard, trench coat, and pipe in his mouth, was looking directly at Charles. And that menacing glare coming from him shook the retired paratrooper, the ice in his glass rattling. Tony saw the same thing, and when the old timer laid eyes on him, he simply walked away. But his departure didn't ease the tension planted on his father in law's face.
Hey, Chuck; who the hell was that?
But he didn't say. He simply excused himself and rose to his feet, quickly and purposefully walking over to Dave, the owner, polishing glasses and griping about Tottenham FC stinking it up in Premiere play. Charles whispered something in his ear, and they both became nervous and twitchy. Tony saw this, and had this awful feeling in the pit of his stomach.
He wasn't the only one with phantoms haunting his life, it seems.
