PRIMAL Vengeance (3)
Page 23
"Hello!" he yelled into the phone over the helicopter's noise.
He cupped his hand over the phone pressing it up against his head.
"Yang!"
"Who's this?"
"It's me, Aden."
Yang laughed. "You have rung to surrender?"
"Not really. More to say FUCK YOU!"
***
"Thanks," Bishop tossed the phone back to Mirza. "Kurtz, time check."
"Now!" the German announced.
The tilt-rotor appeared from behind the building as Kurtz spoke. Its blades thrashed the surrounding streets with downwash sending a cloud of dust billowing out from the extraction point. It hung in the air like a predatory bird, its weapon pod unsheathed like a set of talons.
The roar of the minigun filled the air as the remote system poured rounds into the Type 88 tank. The stream of armor-piercing rounds lashed it, smashing sights and tearing antennas.
Mirza, Bishop, Aleks and Kurtz clapped their hands to their ears as thousands of casings cascaded down on top of them, a shower of hot brass.
Inside the tank the crew cowered as the deafening blast of rounds slammed into the armor. The crew commander jerked at the trigger, sending a final round downrange.
It screamed down the alley past the SWAT team and slammed into the bottom floor, tearing the guts from the building.
"MITCH, WE NEED EXFIL NOW!" Mirza screamed into his radio.
"Wilco, chaps."
The PRIMAL pilot fired one last burst, this time at the PETROCON helicopter that was landing behind the tank. The helo jolted and dropped, crashing into the street.
Mitch brought Dragonfly down on the flat roof, hovering with wheels inches off the surface. The building gave a groan and a shudder.
"She's gonna go!" yelled Bishop as he leapt through the door and into the aircraft. Kurtz was hot on his heels, throwing himself inside. Aleks followed him, barrelling into the cabin.
With a shudder, the entire building slipped sideways, the roof dropping from horizontal to a 45-degree angle. Mirza slid, scrabbling for a foothold.
"COME ON!" Bishop screamed from the doorway.
Mirza yelled as he sprinted as hard as he could, driving up the rooftop as it started to collapse. He reached the edge and leapt into the air, hitting the lip of the aircraft's door with a thud. As he slid backwards, Bishop grabbed him and hauled him into the cabin.
"Punch it, Chewie!" Bishop yelled.
Mitch gave his best impression of a Wookie as he pushed the aircraft's throttles forward. Dragonfly's engines roared as the props transited forward rocketing the little craft beyond 300 kilometers an hour.
***
The PETROCON helo lay crumpled in the middle of the street, rotors bent and ruined. Yang had been thrown free and lay stunned as he watched the rescue in disbelief.
Twice now Aden had escaped him. The man was a walking, talking wrecking ball and Yang's aching body would not let him forget it. The Chinese operative rose stiffly to his feet, the pain reminding him of other humiliating defeats. A blown up cargo ship, shot down attack helicopter, and now shot down again; Yang wasn't sure if he was more furious or shocked at the turn of events.
For a few seconds he contemplated calling the Sudanese Air Force and scrambling jets to interdict the tilt-rotor. He shook his head. What would that achieve? Aden and his men may die, but he would be no closer to revealing the identity of their shadowy organization.
His phone started ringing. It was Zhu. Yang took a deep breath and answered the call. At least he had one last chance to seek vengeance and redeem himself.
Chapter 53
Abu Dhabi International Airport, United Arab Emirates
The Lascar Logistics terminal at Abu Dhabi was extensive. Rows of heavy cargo aircraft waited to load and unload. A fleet of ground support vehicles assisted in the process, moving cargo back and forth from a freight terminal. The maintenance hangars were huge, large enough to fit the big four-engined Ilyushins. To the outside observer it all looked legitimate, another air freight operator conducting day-to-day operations.
Mitch landed the PRIMAL tilt-rotor just after sundown. They came in fast with navigation lights turned off, landing vertically in the middle of the apron reserved for Lascar aircraft. Mitch taxied Dragonfly to the last unmarked hangar. The giant metal doors slid apart and they nosed in next to a business jet.
Dragonfly's rear hatch slid open, a set of aluminum stairs unfolded and Bishop stepped tenderly onto the polished concrete floor. The rest of the team followed, heading across to the briefing room. Behind them the hangar doors had shut. The Priority Movements Airlift hangar was secure.
Bishop slumped into a sofa as Aleks made a beeline for the refrigerator. It was well stocked with beer. "Cold one, comrade?" he asked.
"Hell yeah, mate, all I want is a beer, a shower and to hit the rack!"
Kurtz, Mirza and Mitch all filed into the room and the Russian handed them cold beers as they passed the fridge.
"So now we work out how to kill that Chinese bastard, ja!" said Kurtz as he sucked back an Einbecker.
"Not me." Mirza shook his head. "I need to get back to Africa and help Jonjo take care of Garang."
"I'm with Kurtz," said Aleks. "The girl was killed by Chinese. Chinese needs to die first!"
"It seems like you've all got vengeance on your mind," Mitch commented as he dropped into the couch next to Bishop. "What about you, Bish? You're the one that took all the hits. Who gets it first?"
Bishop took a gulp of his beer and stared at the wall. "They'll all get what's coming to them, mate. I want payback for Jess more than anyone here, but the mission comes first and that means forcing Zhu to withdraw all military aid to Sudan. I'm guessing that's why we've got his son, yeah?"
"That's Chua's plan," said Mirza. "We've got orders scheduled for 1100 hours local tomorrow to discuss the next phase."
"So where's the kid now?" asked Bishop.
"No idea," said Mirza. "All I know is Saneh's babysitting him."
Bishop raised an eyebrow.
Mitch slapped him on the knee, "I don't think you've got much competition from him, champ. Right now he's probably sitting in the corner of a room terrified out of his mind as that woman of yours field strips a pistol whilst hanging from the roof blindfolded."
They all laughed except Bishop, who drank the last of his beer, then stood up. "Team, we've got six hours till the orders group with the Bunker. I for one could do with some sleep. Let's reconvene here at 1030 tomorrow, OK?" Bishop dropped the empty beer bottle in the trash as he left the room.
"How's he doing, Mirza?" asked Mitch when the PRIMAL operative had left the room.
"Bit bruised but he's OK." Mirza had given Aden a full physical on the trip back from Khartoum. "You know what he's like. He'll bottle up the emotion until he can focus it on the bad guys."
"I want to see him tear the arms off that Chinese bastard!" growled Kurtz.
"Da, like those people-smuggling pieces of shit in Budapest!" agreed Aleks.
Before joining the Sudanese recovery operation, the German and the Russian had been tracking down a people-smuggling ring based out of Hungary. Now that Bishop was safe they were keen to kill Yang and get back to work. Both were heavily invested, emotionally, in the European operation.
Mirza got up next. "The Bunker will confirm what's happening tomorrow. I suggest you all get some sleep as well." He threw his own bottle in the bin and left the room.
Kurtz and Aleks followed, discussing some of the finer details of what they'd like to do to Yang. Finally it was only Mitch left in the room. He let out a sigh, kicked his legs up on the sofa and set his alarm for an hour's time. Five hours should be enough to get Dragonfly ready for any future tasks.
Chapter 54
The Bunker, Lascar Island
"Seriously Vance how long do I have to keep babysitting the kid?" asked Saneh.
"Twenty-four hours. Chua wants to let Zhu simmer a bit before he makes his demands." Vance was
in his office talking to PRIMAL's only female field operative via the island's integrated radio network. Saneh was only a few kilometers away on an isolated part of the island.
"Twenty-four more hours? I won't lie, Vance. There's a good chance I'll neck the spoilt little shit before then. He whines like a school girl."
"He's on a tropical island with a beautiful woman, what's his problem?"
"I might've taken him for a run."
Vance started laughing. "Tubby little fucker struggled, did he?"
"Just a little. He vomited twice before we even made it to the first ridgeline."
"Just make sure you keep him alive."
"I will. Vance, how's Bishop doing?"
"He's OK. Needs a bit of down time. The boys should be back tomorrow. Look, I've got to go. We've got an O group in a few hours. I'll let you know what falls out of it."
"Thanks. Saneh out."
Vance walked out of his office into the operations room. There were only a handful of people at their desks. The LED screen that outlined the status of all the units currently in the field was empty. All PRIMAL operatives were safe and sound. For the Director of Operations that meant a good night's sleep for once.
"Good outcome all round," said Chua from the other side of the room. "Just need to finish negotiating with Zhu, and wrap up that traitor Garang.
"Yeah, I can't help but feel we got real lucky on this one, buddy. It could easily have been Bishop going home in a body bag." Vance turned to the watchkeeper. "That reminds me, what's going on with the girl's body?"
The watchkeeper looked up from his terminal. "Sir, one of the SFF fighters, Jonjo, returned her to the hospital in Juba. From there she was moved to the US embassy."
"OK. Her father is some kind of big wig surgeon, right? I want to make sure he gets more than a short note from the State Department. He deserves to know his daughter died for a just cause."
Chua nodded in agreement. "The SFF have put a serious dent in both the Sudanese deniable capability and the Chinese will to continue the fight. From what I understand Doctor Hutton played a critical role in that."
"Mirza spoke very highly of her, she saved a lot of lives," agreed Vance.
"Her loss won't be in vain, Vance. We're in a good position now. We've cost PETROCON and China a lot of resources and should be able to force Zhu into withdrawing his support for the Janjaweed. Maybe even a Chinese vote in the UN Security Council for an increased peacekeeping force."
"You seriously think that's an option? You think Zhu has that much clout?"
"He regularly meets with a number of members of the People's National Council. He's got serious connections and wants his son alive."
"Sir," the watchkeeper interrupted them, "you've got a call. It's Tariq."
Chua gave Vance a sideways look. PRIMAL's wealthy benefactor rarely called them. Chua took the call. The conversation was short; the owner of Lascar Logistics and former head of Abu Dhabi Police Special Branch was a busy man. Chua handed the phone back to the watchkeeper.
"We've got a big problem!" the Chinese American said.
"What?" asked Vance.
"Yang has been spotted in Abu Dhabi."
"What the fuck?"
"The security system at the airport detected him but he escaped arrest," Chua explained.
"But how the hell did he track the team?"
"There's only one way that could have happened," stated Chua.
"Bishop!"
"He's the only one they've had contact with. They can't have tracked Dragonfly. Mitch runs bug sweeps over it regularly, it's got no markings and he ran a crazy Ivan flight path. It has to be Bishop."
"Wake the boys up. They've got work to do."
Chapter 55
Priority Movements Airlift Hangar, Abu Dhabi International Airport
"Are you sure you know what you're doing, Kurtz?" Bishop asked.
"Just hold still, ja!"
As soon as the bunker had informed them that Yang had tracked them to Abu Dhabi Mitch had run a scanner over Bishop and his clothing. The PRIMAL technician had found a very low frequency tracker emitting from the gunshot wound in Bishop's arm. Kurtz had immediately volunteered to remove the device, claiming he was a qualified advanced medic during his GSG9 days. With Aleks assisting, they proceeded to use the hangar's waiting room as a makeshift surgery.
"Aleks, give me the injection," asked Kurtz.
The big man passed him a pre-packaged local anesthetic.
Kurtz plunged the injection into Bishop's arm.
"Fuck me! What are you, a goddamn horse doctor? It's my arm, not a cow's arse."
"Du bist ein Mädchen."
Aleks laughed.
"What did he say?"
"He says you are a girl."
"Hmmph, fair enough. Now give me another scotch."
"Nein," Kurtz said shaking his hand. Alcohol will mix with the local anesthetic and make you sleepy."
"No, we don't want that. I've got to find that bastard Yang."
"Can you feel this?" Kurtz asked poking his finger into the stitched wound in Bishop's shoulder."
"Nope!"
"Perfect." Despite his lankiness, Kurtz could have been a surgeon. He cut the stitches and opened the wound with a deft hand. Then he reached into the hole with a pair of forceps and drew out the tracker, dropping it into the plastic container that Aleks was holding.
The device was the size of a large vitamin capsule. The Russian squirted it clean with a jet of saline solution and handed it to Mitch.
The technician gave a low whistle. "This is state-of-the-art, lads. You'd expect something like this out of the NSA or GCHQ, not the bloody ChiComs." He opened a small metal box and dropped it inside, shielding the signal. "I'll give it the once over when we get back to the Bunker. Might be worth getting a few of our own."
Kurtz closed the wound in Bishop's arm with a row of neat tight stitches. A bandage completed the treatment. "There. Good as new."
Bishop grasped his friend's shoulder with his good arm. "You're a good man to have around, Kurtz."
The German beamed.
The door to the room opened and Mirza entered. "I checked the perimeter. No sign of Yang or any of his men."
Mitch nodded. "I don't think they were able to get an accurate fix on the signal. It would have led them to Abu Dhabi but that's it. My guess, one of the sensors at the Chinese Embassy got a sniff of it on the flight in, but inside the aluminum walls of this hangar the signal would have been cut off."
"They know we came in by aircraft though. That narrows it down," stated Mirza. "And Yang knows we use the tilt-rotor.
"True," said Bishop. "Yang will probably be looking for Dragonfly."
Mirza was deep in thought as he took a bottle of water from the fridge. "I know I have only been with PRIMAL for a year, but this is the closest I've seen to our organization being compromised. If it weren't for the airport security, the Chinese would definitely have surprised us."
A new voice interrupted them. "Wouldn't be hard, gentlemen. What with no one keeping watch," said Tariq Ahmed. Dressed in one of his signature European-cut suits the head of Lascar Logistics was standing in the doorway stroking his perfectly manicured beard. In his other hand he held an exquisite brown leather briefcase.
"It helps if you have the keys," said Bishop, jumping out of his chair to grasp Tariq's hand.
"Always making excuses, Aden. I trust you're bug-free now?"
"Thanks to Kurtz I'm clean as a whistle. It's good to see you again, Tariq."
"Yes, it's good to see you all. But let's cut to business." Tariq pulled up a chair and sat down, placing the briefcase on the table. "Your friend, Mr Yang Tan, PLA Second Department, currently seconded to PETROCON, arrived in Abu Dhabi at 1030 hours yesterday on a Qatar Airways flight direct from Khartoum. Interestingly he entered my country under the name Tran Wang."
He reached into the briefcase and pulled out an A4 photograph showing Yang's face. Bishop picked it up off the table.
"It would seem that way. Chua had him added to our watch list earlier in the week. He would have slipped through unnoticed except for the new facial recognition software."
"So what the hell happened at the airport?" asked Bishop. "Why wasn't he detained?"
"He attacked and disarmed two of the airport guards. One of them has a broken arm. The other will never walk again."
"Yeah, he's one lethal little bastard. So did you track him?"
Tariq shook his head. "He was picked up by a car and escaped towards the Chinese quarter."
"So he's got a support base here."
"Abu Dhabi has a large population of Chinese workers. I have no doubt some of them are Chinese Intelligence. If you want I can mobilize my people to find him. I still have a significant amount of influence over Special Branch operations."
"What will Special Branch do if they find him?" Bishop asked.
"He will simply disappear in the desert. It has happened many times before."
Bishop went cold. "No! PRIMAL will find him and I will ensure he tells us everything about his Sudanese operations. Then I will finish him personally."
"It should be easy enough," Tariq said. "You already have the upper hand."
"How is that?" asked Kurtz. "We have no idea where he is in the city."
"Don't you? I mean you know exactly what he's looking for." The Arab turned for the door. "Gentlemen, I must return to my duties. If there's anything you need please contact my office."
"Just one more thing, Tariq," said Bishop.
"Yes?"
"Can you get us one of your special police vehicles, the black G55s?"
Tariq smiled. "Of course. If someone drives me back to my office, you can have the one parked in front of this hangar."