PRIMAL Fury (The PRIMAL Series) (49 page)

BOOK: PRIMAL Fury (The PRIMAL Series)
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CHAPTER 88

PRIMAL HQ, LASCAR ISLAND

The Lascar Logistics business jet touched down on the island with a screech of tires and a slight shudder of the cabin.

“Welcome home, team,” Mitch announced over the intercom.

Bishop opened his eyes; he had been snoozing since they left Japan. After the week-long mission he was exhausted.

Saneh gathered her personal gear as the jet turned off the runway and nosed into a massive hangar set against a granite cliff face. While the engines wound down, she opened the front door and walked down the steps without saying a word to Bishop.

The PRIMAL operative heard Vance and Chua welcome her as she exited the aircraft. He stayed in the leather recliner for a few more seconds, then slowly levered himself out of it. Every inch of his body seemed to ache as he recovered his gear bag and walked stiff-legged down the aisle.

“Hey, buddy, how the hell are you?” Vance greeted him at the bottom of stairs wearing a bright-orange Hawaiian shirt and board shorts.

Chua had already left with Saneh in a golf cart.

“What, no wheels for us?” Bishop shook his boss’s hand.

“I got the feeling Saneh was in a hurry. C’mon, let’s walk and talk.”

“You heard anything from Kurtz?” Bishop asked as they walked through the giant sliding doors that led to PRIMAL’s underground facility. Inside the cavernous space a number of other aircraft were parked, including a hulking Ilyushin cargo plane and a sleek tilt-rotor.

Vance shook his head. “No, he’s dropped off the face of the earth.”

“What about his bank accounts, e-mail addresses?”

“Nope, nothing. We’ll keep an eye out but if he doesn’t want to be found…”

“Saneh’s right, you know. I let the team down. I should have seen it coming. We didn’t even save the girl.”

“In the heat of battle we make the best decisions we can. Let me and Chua deal with Kurtz. Don’t you start doubting yourself now.” Vance stopped and grasped Bishop by the shoulders. They stood in the middle of the hangar, underneath the wing of the highly modified four-engined Ilyushin known as the “Pain Train.”

“Listen, Bish, this ain’t some piss-weak NGO outfit delivering bags of rice. This is PRIMAL and we crack skulls. If our people can’t handle that then they’re better off hanging up their boots.”

“You’re right.”

“Course I’m right. Problem is, you Australians wear your heart on your sleeve. Us Americans, we’ve gotten used to every fucker hating us.” He laughed and Bishop smiled. “You should be proud of what your team achieved. You took down a high-level sex slavery operation that no one else could touch. This mission is exactly what PRIMAL is all about, making an example of those who think they’re untouchable.”

“Let’s just hope Kenta and Baiko can finish the job,” Bishop said and they continued walking.

“Oh, I think they’ll do all right. The media are already reporting the scandal involving the superintendent and the mayor.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, they’re saying the Yamaguchi took down a rogue group of Yakuza ‘terrorists.’ We nailed the PSYOPS plan—it worked perfectly. The Yamaguchi now have a reputation for packing some serious muscle. No other Yakuza outfit’s gonna touch ’em.”

“I can see the headlines now,” Bishop mused. “‘Yamaguchi-gumi Samurai Defeat Evil for the People of Japan.’”

“Exactly.”

“How did the intel team go with the rest of the stuff we pulled off target?”

“It’s gold. Not only have they got the locations of all the other Mori-Kai properties but they’ve got full client lists.”

“That’s got to be an interesting read…”

“This guy Nishimuru, the mayor, had a whole network of ultranationalist sex freaks that used his services. It’s a veritable who’s-who of traditional Japanese powerbrokers.”

“They aren’t going to be happy when the videos get out.”

“Yep. Chua and his boys are putting together the intel packs for your buddy Baiko to sort out. The cops are planning to do simultaneous arrests of the client list, as well as taking down the remaining Mori-Kai brothels.”

“Baiko’s a solid guy. With Kenta’s help he’ll do well.”

They reached the back wall of the hangar and entered a large cargo elevator. Vance pressed two buttons labeled
THE BUNKER
and
ACCOMMODATION
.

“I know you’re tired, bud, but once you get some rest we need to brief you on something.”

“Another mission already?”

“Nothing serious. It’s a counterintel job. There’s a journalist snooping around; she’s been making inquiries about things a little too close for comfort.”

“How much does she know?”

“Chua will give you the details. She lives in New York. You can take Saneh, make a holiday out of it, maybe head back to Sydney once the job’s done.”

“I don’t think Saneh and I will be holidaying anytime soon.”

Vance slapped him on the shoulder. “Yeah, I picked up that vibe. What can I say? Women are fickle, brother.”

“What’s Mirza up to?”

“He gets back from Myanmar in a few days. He can meet you in New York if you want.”

The elevator stopped and the doors opened at the Bunker level. Vance stepped out. “Briefing at eighteen hundred, OK?”

“Got it.” The doors closed and Bishop let out a long sigh. Maybe Vance was right; a trip to New York would probably do him some good. He could get out of Saneh’s hair for a little while and just hang out with Mirza, maybe catch a Yankees game. After this last sojourn in Japan, keeping tabs on a journalist couldn’t be that hard.

The elevator opened and Bishop walked out to the foyer and turned into the corridor that led to their rooms. Two doors down he stopped. The plastic clip that held the nameplate of the room’s owner was empty: Someone had removed Kurtz’s name.

He remembered the last time a tag had been removed, when his close friend and mentor had been killed. Bishop swallowed, pushing the ball of emotion deep inside, and headed to his own room. He opened the door and dumped his bag in the corner. There was a bottle of whiskey on a desk. He sloshed a healthy slug of it into a glass and dropped onto his sofa.

He drank in silence, staring at the bare wall in front of him. All he could think of were the final moments of Karla’s life. He played it over and over in his mind, looking for a way out, a different option, a different outcome. No matter how many times he played it, the same choice had to be made, Saneh or Karla. He downed the last of the scotch, glanced at his watch, and made for the door. He would get down to the indoor shooting facility and put some rounds downrange—that always helped clear his head. Then he’d head up for the mission briefing and get ready to fly to New York. As long as he kept moving, the ghosts of the past would never be able to keep up.

AUTHOR

S FINAL WORDS

PRIMAL Fury
is the first PRIMAL story to be released exclusively by Amazon Publishing. How did this happen? Because enough readers took a chance with an independent author and brought his work to the attention of a company with a progressive mindset. I want to take this opportunity to thank those first few fans. You know who you are.

If you want to follow PRIMAL and find out about future releases, you can receive the latest info on Twitter, Facebook, YouTube, my blog, e-mail, the PRIMAL website, or on my Amazon page. For those fans who join the PRIMAL e-mail list, I’ll give you opportunities to purchase upcoming PRIMAL stories before everyone else.

Thanks again for picking up one of my books, and I hope you enjoyed PRIMAL’s adventures in Europe and Japan. Stay tuned for the next mission—in the Americas.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Jack Silkstone grew up on a steady diet of Tom Clancy, James Bond, Jason Bourne, Commando comics, and the original first-person shooters,
Wolfenstein
and
Doom
. His background includes a career in military intelligence and special operations, working alongside some of the world’s most elite units. His love of action-adventure stories, his military background, and his real-world experiences combined to inspire the no-holds-barred PRIMAL series.

 

[email protected]

www.primalunleashed.com

www.twitter.com/jsilkstone

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www.youtube.com/jacksilkstone

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