PRIMAL Fury (The PRIMAL Series) (40 page)

CHAPTER 75

MORI-KAI CASINO CONSTRUCTION SITE, HIMEJI

“How many men do we now have here?” Masateru asked Ryu as he strode into the casino’s security center. His Kissaki commander was using the underground facility as a command post. The hardened, high-tech hub would one day scrutinize gamblers and spy on the hotel rooms, but today it allowed them to observe all the approaches to the casino. Black-clad Kissaki monitored the screens, displaying visuals from the CCTV cameras, and used radios to stay in contact with the gang leaders.

“Ten Kissaki, fifty Koreans, and forty Chinese.”

“A formidable force.” Masateru smiled and ran his fingers through his hair.

“If we can keep them from killing each other.”

“Leave that to me. How have you divided their responsibilities?”

“They’re operating in teams of ten. Each team has been given a level or a sector of responsibility.”

“And the Kissaki?”

“I have five here with me. The rest are located off-site, our reserve.” The radio on Ryu’s belt squawked and he raised it to his ear. “The gang bosses are ready for you. They’re gathered in the ground-floor dining area along with the weapons you requested.”

“Let’s go.” Masateru led, heading toward the elevator. Ryu and two Kissaki, wearing black body armor and wielding G36 assault rifles, followed close behind.

The restaurant floor was unfurnished. The kitchens were operational but the dining areas were still bare concrete. The Chinese and the Koreans had separated into two groups in the middle of a large open space. The gang leaders eyeballed each other suspiciously, guns held tightly. Both groups favored short hair and heavily tattooed bodies. They had all been issued gray coveralls with high-visibility vests.

Silence filled the room as the occupants became aware of Masateru’s presence. He stood watching them for a few seconds before speaking. “On behalf of the
oyabun
, I thank you all for being here.”

“So why are we here?” one of the Koreans asked, his face fixed in a permanent scowl.

“Because you have all sworn loyalty to the Mori-Kai and with that comes certain responsibilities.”

“You want us to kill someone?” This time it was one of the Triad bosses who spoke. Since the Yamaguchi-gumi
oyabun
had gone into hiding, the Chinese had been quick to switch allegiances.

“That’s very astute. It is exactly why you have been brought here. The Yamaguchi-gumi, our exalted brothers, have brought a team of Western mercenaries into Japan to destroy the Mori-Kai.” His eyes glanced around the room. “To destroy the brotherhood that you are now a part of.”

“I say let them come.” A particularly savage-looking Korean stared directly at Masateru with unblinking eyes. “We killed the Yamaguchi dogs; we can easily kill their Western slaves.”

Masateru met his gaze. “And you are to be commended for your attack on the Yamaguchi. Although you missed the
oyabun
, it was still a success. But these men are different, they are a formidable enemy, and we must work together to destroy them.”

“What’s in this for us?” one of the Chinese asked quietly.

“Eternal gratitude,” Masateru said. “But if you need additional motivation I will give you a million yen for every Westerner you kill. Other, even more profitable arrangements have also been made with your bosses.”

The mention of a reward set tongues wagging and it took a few seconds for the posse of hardened gangsters to return their attention back to the
waka-gashira
.

“If you succeed in destroying our enemies, the benefit for all will be substantial. If you fail, then all loyalties will be questioned. But do not be disheartened. My good friend Ryu has equipment you’ll need.”

Ryu and his two Kissaki walked through the throng of gangsters toward the plastic cases stacked against a wall. There were ten of them. Ryu selected one. The two men picked it up by its straps and brought it across to Masateru. They placed it on the concrete and unclipped the fasteners.

“The Kissaki have already trained you in these weapons. They are yours to use in killing our enemies.” Masateru flipped up the lid. Inside lay a PKM machine gun and a 66mm rocket launcher.

The quadcopter was a drone. Four tiny electric engines kept it aloft for periods of up to twenty minutes. Plenty of time for it to zip around the construction site and capture every detail with its cameras. High above the construction site it hung in the air, focusing on a pair of workmen. Then with the faintest whir it darted sideways and down to get a better horizontal shot into the bare upper levels.

“Careful, Kurtz, keep that thing out of visual and audible range.” Bishop was sitting alongside the German as he piloted the tiny aircraft.

“Pfft. It’s so small and silent I could fly it inside and no one would notice.” The screen in front of him showed the location of the drone on a Google Earth–style map. Alongside it another screen, split into quarters, displayed each of the feeds from the drone’s cameras.

The entire team had relocated to a small house among rice paddies a few miles from the Mori-Kai casino. Kenta had found the house on a real-estate site; it had been on the market for months and the agent had been nice enough to confirm it was currently unoccupied. It had taken Kurtz a few seconds to pick the lock on the double garage and now their borrowed Yamaguchi Mercedes and white PRIMAL van were parked inside. There was an inspection scheduled for the following Monday but by then they would be long gone.

Bishop gave Kurtz a slap on the shoulder and moved across the living room to check on another computer.

Kenta’s eyes were fixed on the laptop’s screen. “This is amazing. One minute it’s blank and now we have a full picture of the casino.” A 3-D model of the building site was displayed as the program collected images from the drone’s cameras and assembled them into an accurate schematic. It had even started to exploit shots that reached inside to build up the internal floor plan.

“Pretty cool, hey.” Bishop checked to see that the model was complete. “A great thing about it is once we’ve got a full scan we can input it into this machine here.” He took a USB stick from the laptop and walked across to the dining room table. Perched on it was what looked like a robotic arm hanging from a frame the size of a microwave oven. Bishop plugged the USB into a small touch screen attached to the side of the device.

“What does it do?” Kenta asked.

“It’s a 3-D printer. It makes things.” Bishop touched the screen and the little robotic arm sprang to life. A burning smell filled the air as it started building. “I’m going to check on Saneh. I’ll be back in a few minutes; by then it should be done.”

Saneh was in one of the bedrooms hunched over her laptop, streaming the drone feed from their Wi-Fi network. She was wearing a pair of dark-framed glasses.

“You look good in those.” Bishop placed a hand on her shoulder. “How are we looking?”

“Not so good.” She shrugged out from under his hand. “The place is crawling with workers.”

Bishop dropped his hand to his side and leaned in to see the screen. “It’s a big project.”

“It is, but the problem is no one’s doing any real construction work. They’re all smoking, talking, or moving things from one place to another.”

The image on Saneh’s screen was a still frame taken from the drone feed.

“What about weapons?”

“Kurtz got this a few minutes ago.”

The new image was a grainy shot through a missing section of windows on the third floor of the casino. It showed four armed men; one of them was carrying what looked like a PKM machine gun.

“These guys are packing some serious heat.”

“Not only that.” Saneh brought up a wider image. “I ran an optics detection filter over it.” The image showed no less than seven points of reflection. “The casino’s CCTV network has been installed; we can safely assume it’s up and running.”

“They’re more than ready for us.”

Saneh nodded. “There’s no way we can hit this with just five people.”

“Even with more Yamaguchi support?”

“These people would massacre the Yamaguchi.”

“Yeah, they proved that at the
oyabun
’s house. Let me think about this.”

Bishop walked back to where Kenta was watching the 3-D printer. Aleks had joined him from where he had been working in the garage. “It’s building the casino,” said the Russian.

Kenta nodded. “That’s amazing.”

Bishop watched the printer’s robot arm as it danced across the plastic model. It was constructing level by level, racing back and forth to add minute details.

“How the hell are we going to deal with this?” Bishop said to himself as he watched the building taking shape. Even in its miniature form the casino looked like a formidable objective. Combined with heavily armed guards and a high-tech security system, it would be like assaulting Fort Knox.

“Maybe we could set up some sort of distraction? Even start a fire or hijack an ambulance?” suggested Aleks.

“Whatever we do, we’re going to need help.”

“I have an idea,” Kenta said and the other two looked at him. “Once, when I was much younger, a more powerful gang kidnapped my
waka-gashira
’s girl while I was looking after her. He told me if I did not get her back he would take my life.”

“How did you get her back?” Bishop asked.

Kenta sat back from the laptop, stretched, and smiled. “Like you said, with help. I paid the police to do it.”

CHAPTER 76

NATIONAL POLICE AGENCY HEADQUARTERS, TOKYO

“Please give me your attention.” Baiko stood at the front of a room filled with his colleagues. “The latest information from my source indicates that a Yakuza syndicate in Himeji is using a construction site as a distribution node for weapons.”

“Are these the same Yakuza responsible for the attacks on the Yamaguchi-gumi?” asked one of the other members of the Organized Crime Department.

“I think so. All of the incidents around Kobe and Himeji in the last forty-eight hours have been linked to them. We’ve got reports that they’re an obscure clan that call themselves the Mori-Kai.”

“What sort of weapons do they have?” another of the team asked.

Baiko fished a USB out of his pocket and handed it to the officer manning the room’s computer terminal. He waited for the image to be displayed onscreen. “I’m no expert but that looks to me like some kind of machine gun.” Bishop had e-mailed him the picture, taken only a few hours earlier by the quadcopter drone. It clearly showed a man carrying a PKM and two others with AK assault rifles.

The room filled with noise as the task force members started talking among themselves.

“That’s a goddamn cannon,” said one officer.

“We’ve never seen anything like this before,” added another.

“Let’s keep the noise down!” The department head, an overweight, middle-aged police officer wearing a brown suit, rose out of his chair and stood at the front of the room. “Thank you, Inspector Baiko, for that latest update. Just so you are all aware, the commissioner general himself is watching this very closely. He has given us additional resources to ensure that this emerging Yakuza threat is dealt with decisively.”

Once again the room filled with the buzz of conversation.

“In the last three days we have had a number of successes thanks to Inspector Baiko and his work. His source is very well placed and continues to provide him with actionable intelligence. Because of this I am sending him to Osaka to coordinate with Zero Company. They will be responding to this latest threat.”

Zero Company was the Special Assault Team responsible for the region. Based out of Osaka’s Kansai International Airport, it was the closest tactical unit to Himeji.

“We need to keep up the good work you’ve been doing with the other gangs, in particular the Yamaguchi subclans. Now that they’ve lost a big chunk of their leadership we can expect infighting.”

“Sir, are we coordinating a response across all regions?” asked one of the officers.

“No, this is a highly classified operation. The only two elements approved to know about it are us and Zero Company. If I get wind that anyone is talking to other units, agencies, or press they’ll be transferred on the spot. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir,” the room responded in unison.

“That is all.” He gestured to Baiko to follow as he left the room. Behind them it once again exploded into a verbal typhoon.

In the hallway the department head continued. “This source of yours has proven to be very knowledgeable, Baiko. He must be very well placed in this new gang. What did you say they were called?”

“The Mori-Kai, sir.”

“Interesting, not a clan that I’m familiar with.”

“They have grown strength from remaining hidden.”

“And now they are at war with the Yamaguchi-gumi?”

Baiko nodded. “They’ve already killed most of their senior leaders. It is only a matter of time before the Yamaguchi are finished and these Mori-Kai turn their guns elsewhere.”

“Then we must see to it that they are destroyed. The helicopter will fly you immediately to Osaka, where you will brief the Zero Company commander. He is expecting you before midday.”

“Yes, sir.” Baiko shook hands with his supervisor and started walking toward his office.

“Oh, and Baiko, be careful. These people always have powerful friends.”

Three hours later Bishop received an update from Baiko. He hung up his phone and walked back into the room. “Heads up, team, the SAT has moved into their holding area.”

Kurtz, Kenta, and Saneh checked their screens. Saneh had moved in and set up on the living room table next to Kurtz’s UAV control station. Kenta also had a laptop on the table, a digital radio interface allowing him to monitor the police radio frequency. Aleks was the only one not perched behind a laptop; he was busy prepping their equipment.

“Police are moving a cordon in.” Kurtz piloted his drone around the perimeter of the casino.

“SAT or general duties?” Bishop asked.

“General duties. They’re a long way out, so no danger of the guys inside seeing them just yet.”

“Oh, they’ll know they’re there,” said Bishop. “Kenta, we got anything on the police scanners yet?”

“Five cars have been ordered to move to the area and establish a cordon.”

“Roger, we can expect the SAT to be rolling in soon.”

Everything was going according to plan. Bishop walked across to where Aleks was spray-painting a plastic helmet he had manufactured on the 3-D printer.

“We got everything we need?”

“Close enough. We have blue coveralls, I’m printing two helmets, and I have modified two spare sets of armor. We don’t have MP5s, so you just have to use the Tavors.” Aleks had laid down two outfits on the ground. The two spare sets of armor had
POLICE
stenciled on the back. “The only thing we don’t have are the visors.” Aleks picked up the helmet he was painting. “Oh, and make sure you don’t stop a bullet with your head: This is plastic, not Kevlar.”

“The overall effect is pretty good, mate. You’ve done well. Unless we walk right up to one of the SAT guys they’re not going to know we’re fakes.”

“At least the police snipers will not shoot you,
da
.” Aleks placed the helmet back on the bench. “Boss, there is something I wanted to ask you.”

“What is it?”

“I thought maybe it would be a good idea to take Kurtz with you instead of Saneh.” Bishop glanced over to where the German was piloting his drone.

“Why is that?”

“I just think it might be good for him. Make him feel less helpless.”

“Did he put you up to this?”

Aleks shook his head.

“You’re a good friend, but the reason I can’t use Kurtz is because he’s so tall. Both you and Kurtz are far too big. Saneh and I are the only ones who can pass for SAT operators.”

“I did not think of that.”

“If we just wanted to kick the door in and kill everyone, you and Kurtz would be running point. This is more discreet; the idea is to slip in, grab Karla, slot Masateru, and get out before anyone’s the wiser.”

The mobile phone in Bishop’s pocket vibrated and he pulled it out. “I promise I’ll look after your buddy. Let’s just get through this next phase.”

Aleks nodded and returned to spray-painting the helmet.

Bishop read the text message. “Listen up team, the SAT ground force is rolling. ETA ten minutes. Kurtz, let’s take that drone a little higher.”

“Negative, I’m bingo on power. I’m bringing her home for a battery change.”

“Ack…All right, well, do a confirmatory pass of the overwatch location on the way back. Saneh, have you got any updates for us?”

She broke her concentration and looked up from her screen. “I think I’ve narrowed down Karla’s location.”

Bishop looked over her shoulder. “Show me.”

“I overlaid the coordinates that HQ sent us. That gave me a rough idea on the broad area. Then I checked the imagery that Kurtz captured off the UAV. It looks as if only parts of the first three levels of the building are finished. The ground and first floor are going to be the reception, casino, etcetera. That leaves this small part of the second floor—hotel rooms—that appears to be completed. So according to Flash’s coordinates, she’s probably locked up in this small area here.”

“How confident are you that this is the location?”

“About ninety percent.”

“Right. With any luck, Masateru will be there as well. Can you map out the best route for us to drop off the van, infiltrate through the fence, and get into her assessed location? And try to avoid as many of the cameras as possible.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Bishop looked up from the terminal to see Kurtz making for the back door with a battery pack in hand. At the same time Kenta waved him over. “Bishop, we’ve got a lot of traffic now. The local police are requesting confirmation that they are to hand over to the SAT.”

“What’s the tone? Are they happy about it?”

The Yakuza shook his head. “No, they are very unhappy.”

“That’s because they’re as corrupt as politicians. So far so good. Let’s just hope this doesn’t turn into a turf war.”

Kurtz strode back into the house and dropped in behind his terminal. “Quadcopter is recharged.”

“Let’s go in high; we’ve got SAT on the ground now and I don’t want to risk your bird being spotted,” said Bishop as he watched the full-motion video feeds on the screens.

“
Ja
.” Kurtz made some inputs on a keyboard and after a few seconds the computer indicated that the drone was flying at two thousand feet as it transited toward the target area. Kurtz slewed the cameras forward and as the little craft approached, they saw a huge black bus parked one block back from the construction site.

“That’s their C2 bus.” Bishop pointed at the screen. Beside the command bus, and scattered along key intersections, regular police cars blocked the road.

Closer in they saw a black armored vehicle and half a dozen four-wheel drives clustered around the gate to the construction yard.

“There’s a lot of them,” said Kurtz.

Black-clad SAT operators were swarming around the locked entrance to the construction site.

Bishop looked around at his team. “OK, is everyone good with the plan?”

They all nodded.

“Kenta, what happens if the SAT doesn’t commit?”

“I’m going to use the phone to help change their mind.”

“Good. Saneh and I are going to gear up. Aleks, is everything ready?”

“It is all in the van, boss. We just need to grab Kenta’s laptop and we’re ready to roll.”

Bishop took a deep breath. “Let’s do this.”