Savage Tango
by
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I awoke to pure and utter silence. A subtle breeze made it’s way through the walls. Red embers gleamed in the fire place. Baby blue sky and rising sun. I heaved myself from the warm grasp of my sleeping bag, placed a couple more logs into the smoldering fire, found my small travel case and made my way to the well for fresh water. I rinsed my face, brushed my teeth and freshened up and soon I had coffee brewing over the fire. I placed the remainder of the bread close enough to the fire to warm it and went back to the well were I removed my socks, cleaned my feet, toweled them off, and put on a fresh pair of socks and shoes. Inside I found the bread nice and toasty, coffee ready and hot. All in all it wasn’t a bad breakfast. I was relieved to avoid another MRE. I finished my bread and sat on the steps looking out in the direction I would travel in. Wondering how an impatient Mantanza was coping with impending doom. After cleaning up, gathering up my choice tools for the day, I placed everything else in the cave, and filled my canteen and camel pack with water. Next I spent twenty minutes stretching, hamstrings, adductors, groin, and low back. Sit-ups, pushups, and pull-ups, before my morning commute. Finally, I slipped into my shoulder harness, placed my .45 Berreta safely inside and shoved the suppressor into my right side cargo pants pocket. I reattached the camel pack to the back pack and dropped the canteen inside along with my toys for the day and some MREs. I made sure my combat knife was secure to my left shoulder strap. With most everything in the cave it was reasonably light load. With my camo-boonie hat and sunglasses, I set myself a good pace and I was off. Argentina has beautiful country. Long swooping valleys and tall grandiose white capped mountains. Spots of thick forest along the way. It was evident there were once fields of plenty and now, only the wind walked with me.
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About the Book
It’s June in New Smyrna Beach, Florida, and the only thing that’s hotter than the pavement is Bartholomew Augustus Savage’s personal and professional life. August, a self-described beach bum who takes his retirement in installments, is neither a police officer nor a licensed private investigator; rather, he’s a self-described “waste management consultant” who professionally and discreetly takes out the waste for a fee. But to his friends on the beach, and his land lady, Mrs. Agnes, all of whom are clueless about his true profession, he’s just good ole August, a brother surfer, and good tenant. A combat hardened Ex-Navy Seal and Ex-French Foreign Legionnaire. August’s business cards read B.A. Savage, and most business comes via the internet. Just as he’s claiming an especially gratifying victory in a game of beach volleyball, August receives an encrypted email. Terminate a 107 year old nazi in Argentina expounding Naziism by way of an underground movement. With his commandeered sailboat the ‘Nauti-Buoy’ he travels to the shores of Buenos Aires, land of the Tango. There August poses as a vagabond pirate and locates his target and starts the stalking game. August, has stumbled onto some dicey jobs before, but nothing like the one he’s just uncovered, with a bizarre twist. Thrust back into his old roots of death-dealing, August proudly stamps his seal of approval, B.A. Savage, where he shows a marked propensity to exact revenge for the ill-treatment and death of one of his new friends. Told in August’s distinctive humorous voice, in turns sarcastic and sensitive, Savage Tango will appeal to fans of Jimmy Buffett, Carl Hiaasen, John D. MacDonald, Bob Morris, and Robert B. Parker.
About the Author
A native of sunny Florida, Joshua MacLeod considers himself lucky. At the tender age of fourteen, his crazy uncle(thank God!) took pity on him, a lost soul trying desperately to find his way through life, and dragged him to the salty waters of the Caribbean. Once there he discovered the music and inspiration of one of the patron saints of Florida, Jimmy Buffett. Finally, he discovered what life was really meant to be. From there he gravitated to reading books by authors such as Carl Hiaasen, Hemingway, John D. MacDonald, and Robert B. Parker (RIP). For three consecutive summers, until the age of sixteen, he had lived and experienced more than the average person would in a lifetime of travels. Finally, covered in a crusty layer of salt, a thick tan, and wisdom beyond his years, he emerged and returned to civilian life, a grounded individual with a permanent smile engraved on his face. Joshua has his crazy uncle to thank for helping facilitate his awakening. Fast forward twenty five years. He’s a father to a wonderful sixteen year old daughter with a soul just as creative, adventurous and grounded as his. Joshua is an self educated historian and researcher. Also a permanent volunteer at the Sanford Naval Museum, working with a group of grinning old timers restoring vintage WWII aircrafts. He works with them, absorbing their old war stories and experiences - with an occasional seaplane ride over to the Caribbean. Using his own life experiences, Joshua enjoys drawing up stories with interesting characters, crazy, zany plots, and adventures in the Caribbean where anything can happen and just about everything actually does. Any avid parrot-head, Jimmy Buffet, Carl Hiaasen, and John D. MacDonald, fan will enjoy his genre of writing.