by Rob Jones
They were inside a luxury safari lodge. Leather chairs, heavy oak tables decorated with hardback books and bowls of nuts and fruits. A set of gazelle horns was mounted on one of the support pillars. He blinked and tried to shake off his headache. Looked around some more. There were no walls, just open-air punctuated by thick wooden pillars here and there, and above his head was a thatched grass roof. Several ceiling fans circulated air around the lodge and lowered the temperature by a few degrees, but the heat was still stifling.
He walked out to the balcony which overlooked a large waterhole and saw the elephants that had woken him a moment ago. Three of them were standing on the shore drinking and washing. Another loud trumpet sounded in the hot air and sent a blue crane bursting into the sky.
He heard running water from some kind of feature and followed the sound to a small fountain at the end of the balcony where a set of steps led both up and down. He walked up to the higher level. The elevation of the top storey offered a generous view across the plains of what he presumed was the Transvaal and he realized how isolated they were. There were no people anywhere either, so he made another assumption that this place was private and not a commercial site inside one of the national parks.
He went back down and found Lea sitting up in her chair. She looked like she’d been slapped to sleep and dragged backwards through the night. “Hey.”
“Howdy,” he said. “Glad you could join me.”
“What is this place?” She looked through bleary eyes at the bowl of walnuts and peaches on the table in front of her. “Jesus, I’m thirsty. I’d kill you for a drink.”
“Thanks. I think it’s some kind of safari park. There’s a pitcher of water behind you.”
She turned and poured herself some, drinking deeply from a tall glass. “Iced, too. Seems our host is very thoughtful.”
“Apart from the fact he gassed us into unconsciousness, yes.”
“Yes. You said this was a safari park?”
Before he could reply, an elephant called out again.
“Well, we’re not in Dublin, that’s for sure,” she said.
“No, not Dublin. Looks like the Transvaal to me, but I’m no expert.”
“Impressive.”
They turned to see the owner of the cool, well-educated voice. He was a tall, lean man in a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up neatly to his elbows. He wore stone-colored chinos and polished brown leather boots. Crocodile belt. As he approached them he removed a wide-rimmed bush hat and placed it on one of the tables. “My name is Blankov. Welcome back to reality.”
“Who the hell do you think you are?” Lea said, dragging herself to feet. She swayed and fell back down on the sofa.
“Please, the effects of the gas can last for several hours. Just take it easy.”
“Thanks for caring,” Ryan said. “Remind me to beat the living daylights out of you when I’m back on my feet.”
“Is that any way for one scholar to talk to another?”
“A scholar?” Ryan said. “Forgive me, but scholars don’t usually kidnap people and force them to breathe oneirogenic anaesthetic against their will.”
Blankov looked confused.
“Sleeping gas,” Lea said. “That’s how Ryan says sleeping gas.”
“Of course he does – he is a man of learning. I know how to recognize a genius when I see one, Mr Bale. I have been around a very long time indeed.”
Ryan felt his skin crawl when he heard the words fall from Blankov’s mouth, but it was Lea who spoke first.
“Oh my God. You’re one of them.”
Blankov nodded his head. “If you mean Athanatoi, then yes, I am. In fact, I am a devout believer in the mission of the Athanatoi. That is why I had to have the Sword of Fire. Only this can lead the Oracle to the tomb of Alexander the Great and the final idols.”
Lea almost gasped, but managed to swallow it down. She regained her composure and acted as cool as she could. “The final idols?”
“The legend is quite clear. One must have all the idols to open the gateway to the Citadel.”
“What do you mean by Citadel?”
He grinned. “I see I have the advantage.”
“Uruk?” Ryan said.
Blankov glanced down at him. “The capital of ancient Sumer? You impress me once again, but no, not Uruk. The Citadel is far older than Uruk. In fact, it’s the oldest center of civilization on the planet, as you might expect considering it was once the capital of the world.”
Lea and Ryan exchanged a look, and when she spoke her voice was almost trembling. “What the hell are you saying?”
“Yeah, what do you mean the capital of the world?” Ryan added.
Another grin, but much wider. “I see I have the advantage once again, but we will have time to discuss this and many other things later on.”
They heard footsteps behind them and turned to see Scarface opening an internal door. A tall man in another broad-rimmed bush hat and black shirt sauntered into the room and gave Blankov a nervous look.
Blankov seemed to enjoy the fear he caused the man. “Ah, here is Mr Kruger.”
CHAPTER TEN
“So you can see what we’re up against,” Hawke said, turning his face from the laptop screen back to the rest of his team. “If the information is good and I think it is, we’re looking at one of the toughest jobs we’ve ever had. Rat’s description of the interrogation rooms inside the Torture House’s basement level does not make for a good bedtime story.”
In the safety of their Beijing hotel room, Scarlet, Reaper and the Irish Ranger stared back at him with the cool, unfazed expressions he would expect from three people with their experience.
They had been through a lot together, but he sensed they all understood the uniquely dangerous nature of this mission. The Torture House was part of the Ministry of State Security and breaching its defenses was an almost impossible challenge. Making a successful egress with one of their prisoners would bring a whole other world of pain into their lives.
Scarlet spoke first. “She’s not worth it. We should leave her there and fuck off back to Elysium. The place needs a lot of work so the sooner we start the better.” She popped a roast pork egg roll into her mouth and gave Reaper a sly wink.
Hawke cocked his head and gave her a withering glance. “Stop being naughty, Cairo. Anyone have any serious ideas?”
“We need to forget about going in guns blazing,” Devlin said, casting a curious eye over the pile of dinner they had ordered from room service moments earlier – wonton soup, beef lo mein, crab Rangoon, chicken chop suey. “There’s no way we can match them. There are too many of them and the place is too complex.”
He took a bite of something from one of the cartons and instantly felt the sting of Sichuan peppercorns and chili sauce. “What the hell is this?”
Reaper peered inside the carton. “I might be wrong, but I think that might be the beef tripe and ox tongue in hot sauce.”
Devlin had an overwhelming urge to spit it from his mouth as fast as possible but the optics of spicy ox tongue sprayed all over the wall weren’t great, so he opted to drop it inside an empty carton and wipe his mouth with a tissue. “Yummy.”
Scarlet rolled her eyes. “Can’t take you anywhere.”
“Danny’s right, though,” Reaper’s hand passed over the tripe and instead he picked up a sweet and sour spare rib and started to go to work on it. “The answer is to go underground. We cannot fight them man to man.”
Hawke nodded. “Exactly what I was thinking. Alex’s schematics show that the Torture House is where Rat said. If you look closely there’s an extensive network of sewer pipes running under the entire compound. My assessment is we can find a way into the place via the sewage pipes.”
“I love my life,” Scarlet said wistfully. “It’s so glamorous.”
Hawke smiled and winked at her. “Stop whining, Sloane. You love it.”
Scarlet raised her middle finger and worked hard not to smile back as Hawke pin
ned up the schematics Alex had emailed to him earlier. He indicated a point on the paper. “This is where I suggest we start our ingress. If these are accurate it looks like the main pipes run from the center of the compound to a number of different areas in the surrounding area. We need to find somewhere we can work from without bringing too much attention on ourselves.”
“What size are these pipes?” Devlin asked.
Hawke leaned into the blueprint and studied the scale for a few seconds. “Three feet diameter.”
“One meter?” Reaper said, frowning. “That’s going to be tight. I’m a very big man.”
Scarlet sighed. “Must everything always come back to your pants, Reap?”
He gave a Gallic shrug. “God blessed me, what can I say?”
“We’ll all get through the pipes,” Hawke said. “But with our special packs it’s going to mean crawling.”
“Mmm,” Scarlet said. “Crawling through sewer pipes! Somebody pinch me.”
Hawke snorted. “It’s not nice, but we didn’t join the Special Forces to sit at home clutching hot water bottles and wearing pink fluffy slippers. Sometimes we have to get dirty.”
Scarlet sipped her beer. “I bet you love your pink fluffy slippers, Danny.”
“You been spying on me again, you weirdo?”
“Point is,” Hawke said, “Without the little surprise in our packs we’re never getting Lexi out of there, so we have to be able to get them inside.”
“So how do we get in?” Scarlet asked.
Danny said, “We know we need to access the sewage system and the closest access point is on the street corner to the west of the Torture House.”
Hawke shook his head. “To access that we’d need to go down through a manhole cover on one of the world’s busiest and most heavily surveilled streets. Plus we’d need something like a maintenance truck and some fake costumes, which is hard enough. Even harder is trying to make a bunch of Westerners look like they work for the Beijing Municipal Commission of City Administration. We’d be in the back of a security bureau truck within five minutes. It’s a non-starter. Any other ideas?”
Reaper pushed open the window and rolled a cigarette. Lighting it, he blew the smoke outside and shrugged. “We need somewhere much quieter. What else is there on Alex’s schematics?”
Hawke took another look, tracing his finger along the paper schematics until he found something to the east. “When in doubt, go to what you know. Just opposite the Ministry is the National Museum of China.”
Scarlet joined Reaper for a smoke. “I like it.”
Hawke called Alex and her face appeared on his iPhone screen. “We think we have a way in thanks to your schematics.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yes – the museum. Any good?”
“Already on it, Joe.” She busily tapped at her keyboard until a smile appeared on her face. “This is our way in.”
“What ya got?”
“I’m looking at the internal schematics of the museum right now, courtesy of the CIA website and it looks like you can forget about having to use the sewage system.”
“Thank heaven for small mercies,” Devlin said.
“Oh, bugger,” said Scarlet. “I was so looking forward to that.”
“There is a utilidor in the museum that leads to a sewage pipe connecting into the system beneath the Torture House. Don’t worry – it’s disused and walled up, so you’ll need to blow it to get through.”
Hawke felt hopeful. “Why are they connected?”
“The museum was finished back in 1959 as one of the Ten Great Buildings of Mao’s Great Leap Forward. The government building at the coordinates given to us by Rat was built at around the same time and they share an underground tunnel system that was built to facilitate maintenance. The Smithsonian has a similar set up in DC. I think it should be possible for you to use this tunnel.”
“How do we get there?” Scarlet asked.
“You could walk,” said Alex.
“No.” Hawke shook his head. “We could walk to the place, but not away from the place. When the balloon goes up we’ll need a vehicle. Could you hire us an SUV, Alex?”
“No problemo.”
Scarlet and Reaper shared a high five and Devlin peered back over into the beef tripe box. “But how hungry am I?”
Hawke laughed. “Looks like we’ve got an ingress strategy.”
*
Tiger watched Zhou Yang as Pig approached the prisoner. He was holding a pair of pliers in his right hand and humming to himself as he drew closer to the woman tied to the bed. Monkey was slouching against the wall with his eyes closed and a cocktail stick between his lips.
Zhou raised a hand. “Halt.”
Pig came to a sudden stop and turned to look over his shoulder at the boss.
“Agent Dragonfly.” Zhou casually crossed his arms. “It is essential that you give me quality answers to my questions, or my agent here will be forced to employ a series of persuasion techniques I am sure you are familiar with, as we have already discussed.”
“Go to hell, Zhou.”
Zhou never flinched. “You have spirit. You have courage. And I agree with Pig. You have very beautiful nails.”
Lexi looked up at him, eyes narrowing.
“The ancient practice of denailing is classified by the United Nations as a form of torture, but I think this is an over-reaction. It is in fact a thing of beauty, a classic element in the art of persuasion used successfully for millennia. You will answer my questions truthfully or I will order the Pig here to start pulling your nails out. He will ensure to destroy the nail matrix so they never grow back.”
Lexi bristled but kept her mouth shut.
“Now, when did you first become a traitor?”
“I will tell you nothing!”
He chuckled. “On the contrary, you will tell me everything, Agent Dragonfly. The only point of contention is how many fingernails you will have left to paint by the time you do the talking.”
Lexi struggled on the bed but the restraints were just too tight.
Tiger took a step back as Zhou ordered Pig forward to the prisoner.
“Last chance, Xiaoli. Your family is dead, your friends have deserted you and now you are about to be mutilated. We will not stop with the denailing. The Zodiacs here are experts in bone-breaking, kneecapping, tooth extraction, pressure points and a host of other unpleasant activities.”
He leaned in until their noses were almost touching. “Believe me, Xiaoli, you will tell me everything I need to know about your treason.”
A casual flick of his hand was Pig’s order to move in with the pliers and as he moved in beside her and took hold of her left hand, a broad greasy grin appeared on his sweating face. “I am going to enjoy this. You’re a filthy traitor and now you’re going to sing for me.”
Tiger sighed and uncrossed his arms. He wondered if he should have brought ear plugs. Sometimes their screams seemed to split his head in two.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Ryan Bale wasn’t sure how to react when he saw Dirk Kruger walk into the safari lodge. Of all the ECHO team, he had more reason than anyone to despise the arms trafficker. It was Kruger who had kidnapped him in the notorious Seastead battle during the Atlantis mission. He felt the memory wash over him like icy water.
Dragan Korać, the former Serbian military commander and warlord had blown up a boat beneath the enormous sea platform and knocked Ryan unconscious into the raging ocean. Kruger had saved his life, but only to use his brilliant mind to help locate the Lost City.
This man had kidnapped him, beaten him and tortured him for information and been part of the force who had murdered his girlfriend, Maria Kurikova. Now, standing a few feet from him he felt an overwhelming desire to destroy him as painfully as possible.
Without knowing it, he had moved forward a few inches, his fists clenched so hard his knuckles had gone white. He felt Lea’s hand on his stomach as she held him back. He blinked in the shaded light of the lod
ge as he looked over to her. He saw she felt the same hatred as he did. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Not now, Ry.”
Kruger gave Blankov a suspicious glance and then flung his sweat-stained broad-rimmed bush hat on a chair. “You have more lives that a cat, Mr Bale.”
“Get fucked, Dirk.”
The corner of Kruger’s mouth turned up. “Woah – are you a tough guy now, or something?”
“Tough enough to wring your neck, for damned sure.”
Kruger eyed up the young man for a moment, judging his physical strength. “It takes more than muscle to wring a man’s neck, Bale. Doesn’t matter how strong your arms are. It’s about how strong this is.” He tapped his temple. “You think you could choke the life out of a man? Watch him die right before your eyes, at your own hands?”
“I don’t think it, I know it. Even easier to kill a rat like you. When I kill you I’ll dance on your grave.”
Kruger thought about speaking but instead he tapped his fingers on the desk for a moment and then glanced at Blankov for the next move.
The Athanatoi chief turned and looked out over the veld. “This is a very impressive park, Mr Kruger.”
“Yes. We have everything here at the park. The elephants you already saw, but we also have rhino, buffalo, hippo, leopard, hyena, eagles… and lions.”
“Of course, lions,” Blankov said. “Talking of which, shall we all go outside?”
Kruger led Blankov outside to the elevated deck running around the outside of the first floor. Venter and Scarface raised their guns and frog-marched Ryan and Lea outside, a few feet behind them.
Out on the balcony, Kruger gestured to a table beside some steps which led down to the ground level. On the table were a pitcher of iced water, some glasses and an expensive laptop. The trafficker stared longingly across the veld with his hands in his pockets and sighed. “It’s always good to be home, but my mission’s not over yet – not by a long shot.” He turned and ordered them to take a seat. Ryan looked over his shoulder at the men with guns and obeyed.
