Warrior: A Jason King Thriller (The Jason King Files Book 2)

by Matt Rogers

  ‘The boat option. It’s the only feasible way to get it out of the country.’

  ‘And then? He has to get off somewhere.’

  ‘Let’s focus less on what his plan is and more on hunting him down,’ Beth said. ‘Sound good?’

  King nodded. ‘I’m overthinking. Let’s go. He’ll still be following this trail — there aren’t any other options.’

  He transitioned from the exterior step to the driver’s seat, slotting the big tractor unit into gear and applying pressure to the brake pedal to keep it in place. He remained that way, waiting for Beth to swing into the passenger seat in turn. There was nothing left for them to see here.

  He started to grow suspicious when she failed to materialise in an orderly fashion.

  ‘Beth?’ he called.

  She swung into the cabin a moment later. ‘You don’t think it’s an awful waste to leave all that money lying around?’

  ‘Of course I do,’ King said, ‘but have you got a better idea in mind?’

  ‘No-one will miss a couple of bundles.’

  ‘They won’t miss it. But your CO will throw you out of the military if it gets found on your person. Don’t even think about it.’

  ‘I mean, I’m probably out regardless…’

  ‘Not if we catch Reed. And we’re right on his heels. Besides, you didn’t hear the conversation I had with my handler before. We’re officially in bed with the upper echelon now. He can make your problems go away. So don’t get any ideas in the meantime.’

  She nodded, a little hesitant to agree but wise enough to see the reality of the situation, and swung the door closed behind her. It slammed with a certain finality, sealing them both off from the tantalising prospect of siphoning a few million dollars off for themselves.

  As King kicked the tractor unit into gear and set off along the unlit road, Beth craned her neck to watch the sea of money fading into the black.

  ‘There’s more lying there than I’ll make in a fifty-year career,’ she said, suddenly glum. ‘Let’s hope Reed gets what’s coming to him.’

  39

  The idea of billions of extra-legal dollars moving freely around the country with a bent Force Recon Marine kept King wired long into the overnight drive.

  He didn’t want to lose a second of time on Reed’s tail — he had resolved to catch up to the man through sheer endurance.

  Beth dozed restlessly beside him as he followed the road for hundreds of miles. The electronic clock on the truck’s dashboard had broken long ago, which helped the minutes blur into hours. King tried not to pay attention to the duration of the journey and instead shrunk into his own thoughts, pondering the kind of life Bryson Reed would live if he made it out of Somalia scot-free.

  There would be unbridled luxury and unabashed freedom. If he set himself up correctly and took the proper precautions to ensure he was never caught, he would be free to do as he pleased for the rest of his life.

  King thought of the corpses the man had left in his wake and applied a little more pressure to the accelerator.

  The satellite phone in the passenger’s footwell screamed into life. King leant across fast and answered it by stabbing down with a well-placed finger, hesitant to disturb Beth’s slumber. He hefted the phone to his ear and kept his other hand firmly on top of the steering wheel.

  ‘Lars?’ he said.

  ‘I found you,’ came the reply.

  ‘What?’

  ‘My new position has perks. I’m allowed access to all kinds of DARPA wizardry. Based on the last location you called from, I’ve pinpointed you on one of our satellites. You’re driving half a truck, correct?’

  Despite everything, King smirked. ‘Yeah, you could call it that.’

  ‘Good. The road you’re running along has almost zero turn-offs. There’s a few dozen vehicles along it, so I don’t know which of them is Reed. I found the haul truck too late. He’d already switched over to another vehicle, but I’d assume it’s a semi-trailer of some kind. He must have already had that in place.’

  ‘He’s been planning this for weeks. And he has no shortage of cash.’

  ‘Where’d he get the money to fund this kind of operation?’

  ‘Suddenly abducting dock workers makes a whole lot of sense,’ King said. ‘That part always confused me — why’d he bother killing so many of the men at the port if he just wanted to follow the trade route to its inevitable payload?’

  ‘He needed their private stashes,’ Lars said, putting together the pieces in unison with King. ‘To pay bribes, extort officials, ensure he made his presence known as a top player in the chain.’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘Smart bastard. Shame he couldn’t have used his powers for good. He could have done great things.’

  ‘But he didn’t,’ King said. ‘No other way around it. That’s how the world works.’

  ‘The choices we make…’ Lars said.

  ‘If you don’t mind saving the philosophy for another time,’ King said. ‘I’m still in the middle of nowhere, in case you couldn’t tell.’

  ‘The road you’re travelling along ends at El Hur. It’s a tiny coastal village — there’s nothing around it for dozens of miles in any direction. About as isolated a place as you can get.’

  ‘Perfect for Reed, then.’

  ‘You think he’s sailing away with his money?’

  ‘Check the ocean around El Hur for any signs of a container ship loitering unnecessarily.’

  ‘Which one do you want me to focus on?’ Lars said.

  ‘I don’t follow.’

  ‘There’s plenty, King. There’s a hundred ships hanging around a few dozen miles off the coast at all times. That’s the nature of the industry — I can’t change that. In fact, I’ve spent the last couple of hours attempting to track the closest ships to El Hur, because I had that exact thought. It’s madness. No-one’s revealing anything. I have to assume it’s just the nature of the beast.’

  ‘They all do it?’

  ‘They must. If Reed’s really hauling around a billion dollars in cash then this is far bigger than I could possibly fathom. I knew the shipping industry was inherently corrupt, but this is unbelievable. There’s nothing I can do to stop ships milling around in open waters. They’re obviously waiting for discreet deliveries from the mainland, but I have no way to prove that. I can’t prosecute anyone. It’s free reign out there — they can do as they please. The laws have been bent to allow them those kinds of conveniences. The jurisdictions don’t make sense either. Look, to sum it up, if Reed makes it onto one of those container ships he’s as good as gone. There’s nothing to stop ships meeting up in the middle of the ocean, and it’s horrendously hard to track. That’s how all this extra-legal trade exists in the first place. You following?’

  ‘I’m following. Sounds like a shitstorm.’

  ‘A shitstorm that’ll work in Reed’s favour if he makes it off the coast. He’ll be untraceable. The global industry is set up that way. I’m way out of my depth on this one. We all are.’

  ‘Then I’ll stop him before he gets to the coast.’

  ‘You’d better. I can’t protect you if you reach open waters.’

  ‘Let’s be real,’ King said. ‘You can’t protect me here either.’

  ‘Touché. Good luck.’

  ‘Thanks. Something tells me I’ll need it.’

  As soon as he ended the call, he settled into a routine of such monotony that he lost all perception of time entirely. He focused on the unchanging road and entered a trance-like state. He still had no idea how bad he was hurt, opting to ignore the truth for as long as it took to get the job done. Then he could turn his attention to recuperation.

  Until then, he would persevere.

  Hours later, when the dark blue fingers of pre-dawn began to spear across the Somali sky, the coastline came into full view.

  40

  King reached over and tapped Beth on the shoulder as soon as he noticed the sparkling ocean stretching out in
full view. He had driven all through the night, and most of the sea lay shrouded in shadow. There was barely enough natural light to make out the undulating plains descending down to the coast, devoid of vegetation, packed with twisted brambles and dead trees like much of the landscape across the country.

  ‘Reed’s down there, somewhere,’ he said, staring out at the scenery.

  The hostile landscape did nothing to calm his heart rate — it seemed like everything in sight had the potential to hide an outfit of armed bandits. Nothing about the gently sloping plains felt welcoming. Realising that he couldn’t pause on the crest forever, he threw the tractor unit back into gear and set off for the Indian Ocean a few miles in the distance.

  ‘What’s our plan of attack?’ Beth said, shifting restlessly in the passenger seat.

  She had come awake all at once, as if anticipating confrontation. King glanced across at her and noticed that she couldn’t take her eyes off the coastline. It beckoned them forward, quiet and menacing. He found himself impatient for the sun to rise and bring daylight to the region. The dark blue hue covering everything in sight left all kind of room in the imagination.

  The shadows could hide almost anything.

  He spotted El Hur in the distance after another half-hour of cautious travel. This close to the finish line, he felt no need to rush. The last thing he wanted was to conclude a twelve-hour journey across half of Somalia with a hasty approach that fell apart in an instant.

  It would take little effort for Reed to outsmart them at this point — King was relying on the man being distracted by his closeness to a successful exit. Hopefully he would keep his attention fixed on the journey ahead, instead of constantly checking over his shoulder.

  It was the only way they would succeed.

  ‘You sure you want to do this?’ King said. ‘I can let you out here if you want.’

  Beth stared at him as if he were insane, and flashed a glance out the window. ‘I’ll get ambushed and murdered if you do that.’

  ‘There might be a worse fate waiting for us down there. I don’t want Reed to get his hands on you.’

  ‘I don’t think he had anything personal against me,’ she said. ‘I’m sure he wouldn’t prolong my suffering.’

  ‘You don’t know that.’

  ‘You’re right. I don’t. But there’s no way in hell I’m staying up here.’

  ‘Okay. Your call.’

  ‘He’ll know we’re coming.’

  ‘He can see the finish line,’ King said. ‘He has anywhere up to ten figures on him, all in cash. That kind of temptation can blind anyone, no matter how disciplined they are.’

  ‘You know that from experience?’

  King shrugged. ‘It’s the way of the world. I’m a fresh face in this game but everyone I’ve had to deal with had dollar signs in their eyes in some capacity.’

  ‘Money isn’t everything,’ Beth muttered.

  ‘To these people it is.’

  There was nothing else left to say, so a comfortable silence descended over the cabin, the kind of silence that formed when two people had spent many stressful hours together without the need to speak. King hadn’t picked up much speed yet — the tractor unit chugged along the wide trail at a rate not much more than a crawl — so he didn’t mind when Beth leant across the centre console and touched a hand to his cheek.

  She twisted his head and he responded willingly, sinking into the sensation, kissing her hard and letting his eyes fall closed for a brief handful of seconds. It carried a similar feeling to the kiss they’d shared back at the peacekeepers’ compound — a beacon of stress relief in the midst of carnage. He could sense the tension in her body as their lips worked over each other, and he momentarily took one hand off the wheel to press her tighter against him, noticing the outline of her breasts against her khaki shirt. They sat against his chest, inviting, tempting.

  Don’t let yourself get distracted.

  He bit her lower lip softly as he pulled away, letting her know with a single gesture that he shared her lust. He wanted her there and then, but there were urgent, pressing matters at hand. They both knew that. Alone in the cabin, they were both fully aware of the gravity of the situation looming over them.

  Human instincts could never be entirely suppressed, though.

  ‘Later,’ King muttered. ‘Not here.’

  ‘Damn shame,’ Beth muttered back.

  King turned his eyes back to the road, and noticed a faint plume of dust rising off the land a couple of miles down the track, emanating from the same stretch of terrain that housed the coastline. It had materialised seemingly out of nowhere while he’d been preoccupied with Beth. As the dust rose higher in the thick dawn air, he grimaced.

  ‘What’s that?’ Beth said, noticing it simultaneously.

  ‘Exactly what I hoped it wouldn’t be.’

  ‘Coming towards us?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘That looks like more than one vehicle.’

  ‘Looks like a convoy.’

  ‘You think Reed sent them?’

  ‘Only one way to find out.’

  She glanced across at him. ‘We’re not going to stay here and wait for them to arrive, are we?’

  King paused momentarily, deep in thought. ‘I’m guessing it’s every hired gun from El Hur heading our way. I know Reed planned this out, but I don’t think he ever anticipated getting pursued all the way to a coastal village. I doubt it’s a literal army. Maybe a few men. A dozen at best. I can’t imagine it being more than that. There’s thousands of places across Somalia that thugs-for-hire can get better work.’

  ‘Maybe they knew what Reed’s payload is. He’d pay them plenty to take some time out of their schedule and wait at a fishing village.’

  King shook his head. ‘I doubt he told anyone. I doubt they know now. He’s not going to wave a billion dollars around in a country like this. He’d get his head sawed off for five digits less. These men won’t have allegiance.’

  They both stared hard at the approaching plume. ‘How long do you think we have?’

  ‘Five minutes,’ King guessed. ‘It’s off-road terrain, and uphill. Enough time to try something.’

  ‘What do you have in mind?’

  ‘We can’t hide the truck,’ King said, looking out each window in turn. ‘Nothing around here for miles. And we’d only make it a few dozen feet off the trail before the tyres exploded.’

  ‘So we wait here?’

  Even though she was attempting to disguise the natural panic that leeched out of one’s bones in an encounter like this, King could hear it in her wavering tone. The same symptoms raced through him, quickening his pulse and drawing sweat from his palms. He honed in on the dust trail, laser-focused. At this point, he could begin to make out the shape of the distant vehicles. There were at least three.

  ‘This is a last-ditch effort,’ he said, vocalising his thoughts. ‘Reed just needs enough time to get his cash from the truck to a work boat. Then it’s a short trip out to any of the container ships hovering out there.’ He paused, squinting as he scrutinised the Indian Ocean sprawling out before them. There were a number of black pinpoints dotted across the pale blue water, each of which represented a distant craft large enough to house a thousand of the containers he’d spotted at the Port of Mogadishu. ‘He’s buying time. He didn’t expect us to make it this far. He was confident he’d pick us off sooner.’

  ‘You’re getting all this from a trail of dust?’ Beth said, quizzical.

  ‘Most of it’s pure speculation. But I think if we get past this, we’ll find Reed wide open.’

  ‘Reed on his own is enough of a problem.’

  ‘It’s better if these guys are out of the equation.’

  ‘So what do we do?’

  King turned to her, studying the expression on her face.

  ‘How good is your acting?’ he said.

  Her face lit up with realisation as she connected the dots. ‘Good enough.’

  King nodded on
ce. Grimacing in preparation for what came next, he shoved a hand into the duffel bag at Beth’s feet and came out with a short tactical combat knife with a serrated edge.

  He contorted his mouth into a hard line, raised the tip of the blade to his upper arm, and sliced open the skin across his bicep with a single pull.

  41

  The stage had been set.

  The convoy arrived in an adrenalin-fuelled screech of tyres, all parties charged with the tantalising prospect of murder in exchange for funds. Burrowed into the undergrowth a few feet off the trail, entirely invisible to anyone who didn’t feel the need to scour the surroundings with a magnifying glass, Jason King wondered if they had been paid upfront. He imagined Reed would be using these vital minutes to load up a work boat and set off for a distant container ship, which meant the arriving Somali thugs would have been handed their sizeable payment before the man set off.

  Which meant they were carrying out Reed’s request for the sheer thrill of the hunt. King could see it in their eyes as they piled out of the pick-up trucks, boxing the motionless tractor unit in despite the fact that it wasn’t going anywhere.

  King had killed the truck’s engine moments previously.

  As the convoy of mercenaries leapt out of their cabins and formed a rudimentary semi-circle around the truck, they shut down their own vehicles in turn, allowing the sounds of nature to envelop the scene. The men were quiet, hopped up on adrenalin but focused on the task at hand.

  There weren’t many natural sounds on this hillside.

  King could hear his heart thumping in his ears as he scrutinised the party. He counted eight men spread across three vehicles, all armed in some capacity but few wielding automatic weapons.

  A party of thuggish brutes willing to trek all the way out to El Hur for some work didn’t have the largest budget in the country for their gear. He glimpsed a pair of AK-47s spread between the entire eight-man crew — the rest held a combination of machetes, clubs, or semi-automatic pistols.