PRIMAL Fury (The PRIMAL Series) (6 page)

One of the criminals spotted the vehicle and shouted a warning to his comrades. They opened up with their guns, punching the rear of the car full of holes as it rolled toward them. It crunched through the double doors and smashed into a row of dormitory-style beds, finally grinding to a stop in the debris pile it created.

The PRIMAL operatives peeled out from either side of the vehicle and unleashed a savage volley of suppressed gunfire on the remaining hostiles.

Alert for any others, they cleared the main dormitory room.

“Lots of beds here, Kurtz. At least twenty girls at a time.” Aleks strode deeper into the barn.

“Imagine how many girls these
Schweine
have sold into slavery.” Kurtz moved through a door at the back into a short hallway with small rooms on either side. It was the remnants of the stalls where the horses had once lived, the spaces still containing discarded equestrian equipment. Kurtz checked them one by one.

“We need to get out of here. If we stay longer, the police will be on us.” Aleks was waiting in the dorm, alert for any more of Guszt
á
v’s men.

“
Ja
, one more room.” Kurtz swung the door inward and found a small stretcher covered in tattered blankets. He had turned to leave when he heard a faint moan coming from the pile of rags. He pulled back a blanket and exposed the deathly white face of a beautiful young woman.

“Aleks, I’ve found her.”

She moaned in pain as he checked the bandages on her arm and leg. Aurelia had done a good job dressing the wounds but the smell of dead flesh told him they were infected.

“It’s going to be OK,” Kurtz whispered. The girl moaned as Kurtz wrapped her in a blanket and picked her up.

“Aleks, we need transport and we need it yesterday.”

“We’ll take her with us,
da
?”

Kurtz carried her into the dormitory, where Aleks was waiting. “She needs antibiotics badly. I need to clean and close her wounds.”

“Then let’s go. We should be able to use that old Merc.” Aleks took the lead, his 417 in his shoulder, protecting Kurtz, who carried the girl in his arms. Once they reached the battered old Mercedes, he checked the door. Unlocked. Kurtz laid the girl on the backseat and hopped in next to her. In the front Aleks used a knife to lever off the dash. He was about to rip out the wiring when he thought better of it. He flipped down the sun visor and the keys dropped onto his lap. He turned to see if Kurtz was watching but he was busy with the girl.

The diesel sedan started up with a clatter and Aleks drove it down the gravel driveway toward the front gates. Using his goggles to guide him in the darkness, he gunned the engine and hit the front gates at speed. They sprang open as the bumper smashed into them, and he spun the wheel sideways, sending the car sliding onto the asphalt road.

Within minutes they were back to where they had hidden their Audi. Quickly, Kurtz transferred the wounded girl from the Mercedes. Aleks rigged an IV bag to the back of the passenger seat and pulled a sleeping bag from the trunk. Kurtz had already laid out the medical kit and quickly rebandaged her wounds. They hooked her up to the IV drip, made her as comfortable as they could in the backseat, and started off on the road toward Budapest.

They drove in silence, the rescue of the girl doing nothing to dampen the sense of failure that both men felt. Aurelia was dead and no amount of criminal blood would change that.

Kurtz had been driving for half an hour when his phone rang through on the hands-free. It was PRIMAL headquarters.

“Kurtz, it’s Vance. How’re you guys tracking?”

Kurtz gave Aleks a sidelong look. “We had a slight holdup but we are on the move now.” His voice was flat, emotionless.

“Holdup?”

“
Ja,
a problem with the car. We ran over some nails. This
scheisse
Audi doesn’t even have a spare.”

There was a pause. “But everything’s OK now?”

“
Ja
,
ja
, Aleks fixed it. We’re almost in Budapest. We’ll go straight to the safe house.”

“All right. I just wanted to give you a heads-up on movements from this end. Chua’s Blade has come through. He’s hooked Bishop and Saneh into the network. They’re airborne as we speak and heading for the Ukraine. They’ll hang there till they get the invite and then run a covert op in Hungary to find out who’s in charge of these sex-trafficking scumbags.”

“What about us?”

“You guys are backup for Saneh and Bishop. Once they confirm the target we’ll push you forward. I’ll give you a full brief when you hit the safe house.”

“Understood.”

“Safe driving, and try to stay away from the ‘nails’ this time.” Vance terminated the call.

“I think he knows.” Aleks looked concerned.

“Without a doubt.”

“You think we’re going to be in trouble?”

“
Nein
, but we would be if one of us got killed. Vance isn’t stupid. He knows we joined PRIMAL to help people, and if he has a problem with it, then he’s not the man I thought he was.”

Aleks nodded and they drove in silence for a minute before he spoke again. “I am sorry you lost her.”

Kurtz stared at the road, then glanced at the girl on the backseat. She was asleep. “I just hope this hasn’t ruined any chance to rescue the others.”

CHAPTER 8

UKRAINIAN AIRSPACE, EASTERN EUROPE

“Lady and gentleman, we’re about thirty minutes from wheels down.” The pilot’s British accent filled the aircraft’s luxurious cabin.

Bishop keyed the intercom built into his armrest. “No worries, Mitch. We’re going to check in with the Bunker. Let us know when we’re five out.”

“Wilco, mate.”

Bishop and his companion were the only passengers on the business jet. The pair of covert operatives made quite the couple. Bishop was medium height with an athletic build. The former Australian Army officer looked like the type of rugged, mischievous, good-looking man that women often fell for but seldom dated.

Saneh, a former Iranian intelligence officer, was as deadly as she was beautiful. From her Persian ancestors she had inherited movie-star looks: long brown hair, high cheekbones, green eyes, and a figure that caught the eye of every man she encountered. Where Bishop was more of a sledgehammer, perfect for demolishing targets, Saneh was a scalpel, a deadly mix of subterfuge and manipulation.

Bishop activated a button that lowered an LED screen from the ceiling of the aircraft. He took a tablet from the pocket on the side of his chair and used it to establish a communications link with PRIMAL headquarters, the aircraft’s point of departure.

Saneh adjusted her chair, returning it to the upright position. Like Bishop, she was dressed in comfortable pants and a T-shirt. Clothing more suited to their mission was packed in their luggage.

“Bishop, Saneh, how’s the flight?” Chen Chua, PRIMAL’s American head of intelligence, appeared on the flat-screen.

“Luxurious and smooth as a baby’s bottom,” replied Saneh. “Mitch may love his warbirds but he flies this jet like a dream.”

The pilot, Mitch Freeman, also captained PRIMAL’s combat aircraft.

“I’m glad you got some rest because things are going to get hectic once you hit the ground.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” Bishop said.

“You’re going to love this one. While you were in Sudan, Aleks and Kurtz did some great fieldwork on a sex-trafficking network based in Hungary. For now we’re calling it ‘the Syndicate.’”

“Creative,” Saneh deadpanned.

“Your job is to penetrate that organization and gather more intel.”

“What’s the cover?”

“Ivan spun them a story regarding Yuri wanting to branch out to selling commodities other than weapons in the Middle East.” Yuri was an arms dealer who worked for PRIMAL, less by choice and more out of a healthy respect for an organization he didn’t want to cross.

“It’s the old team again.” Bishop had been working with Ivan on the mission that had resulted in Yuri’s boss being killed and also led to Saneh’s recruitment into PRIMAL. Ivan was Chua’s top undercover intelligence operative. He worked behind the scenes on PRIMAL operations, recruiting agents and gaining access to organizations and individuals.

“Yuri’s still under our control?” Saneh asked.

“Very much so; we’re his best customer. He also still thinks he’s working for the CIA. The man is ruthless, but he’s got morals. Jumped at the opportunity to take down a bunch of sex traffickers.”

“So what’s the plan?” Bishop asked.

“We’re waiting for a call back from the Syndicate with the time and location of the auction. Mitch will organize transport; Mirza and the CAT are already on the ground and will provide a ready reaction force if required. Aleks and Kurtz are in Budapest and will support with ground surveillance if you need it.”

“Do we know exactly where the meet will occur?” asked Saneh.

“Not at this stage but it will be somewhere in Hungary. Now, are you both clear on the cover story?”

“Of course,” Saneh replied curtly.

“I think I’ve got it.” Bishop grinned. “If I remember right, I’m the arms dealer and Saneh is my assistant.”

“That’s correct. We’ve built you up to be a bit of an entrepreneur of the illegal markets. Filthy rich from selling arms to the Middle East, you’ve decided to branch out into the flesh trade. Saneh is your assistant, mistress, and madam. She’s coming along to confirm the quality of the product.”

“All right, all right.” Saneh sighed. “Now what about the leads in Japan?”

“Nothing as yet. We’re not even sure that’s where the pipeline leads. My informant in their police force thinks this might even have a Korean link.”

“A tangled web of networks. It’s never straightforward, is it?” said Saneh.

“No it’s not, and as Aleks and Kurtz have already found out, these people are well armed and capable.”

The aircraft’s intercom interrupted the call. “Touching down in five minutes, chap and chapette!”

“That’s my cue, team.” Chua wrapped up the conversation. “Good luck. Oh, and Saneh, try to keep Bishop out of trouble.” He terminated the call.

Saneh got up and put her backpack away into a storage compartment, preparing for landing. Bishop watched her with a grin. “Already getting into the role, I see.”

“You can be such a child, Aden.”

“C’mon, it’s not that bad.” He sat back in his chair and strapped himself in.

“It’s demeaning.” She pulled her own seat belt tight across her hips.

“It’s cover, that’s all. We’ll operate the same way Mirza and I always do.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“OK, so not exactly the same.” Bishop gave her another smile.

“Oh, it’ll be the same. You getting us into trouble and me getting us out.”

The whine of hydraulics announced the final approach to the isolated airstrip near the Hungary-Ukraine border. The single strip of tarmac and the rusted hangars were used once a year for military exercises, which would not coincide with the PRIMAL operation.

They hit the runway with a thump and Mitch reversed the engines; with a roar they decelerated and angled toward the hangars.

“Time to go to work,” Bishop said to himself as he grabbed his equipment bag and headed for the door.

CHAPTER 9

MAGLÓD, BUDAPEST, HUNGARY

The safe house was in the middle-class suburb of Maglód, near Budapest. A PRIMAL Blade had chosen the rental property due to its close proximity to the airport and good access to the main highways leading out of the Hungarian capital.

The two-bedroom, single-story residence could only be described as quaint. Shrouded in trees on all sides, it offered privacy from the neighbors and was unlikely to draw any unwanted attention.

Aleks parked the Audi in the single garage and turned off the headlights. He glanced at his watch. It was four in the morning; they had made good time.

In the glow of the car’s interior lighting Kurtz checked on the girl while Aleks lowered the garage door and started rummaging around, searching for the key to the house.

“The lights,
Dummkopf
,” Kurtz said, flicking the switch. The bright fluorescent lights came on with a flicker.

“Found the key.” Aleks unlocked the interior door and Kurtz pushed past him, carrying the girl.

“Bring the med kit.”

The house was small, neat, and tidy. The bathroom and kitchen simple and serviceable. The wallpaper looked like the inside of a doll’s house; floral designs graced every wall.

Kurtz placed the girl on a bed in one of the rooms. She moaned as he covered her with a blanket.

“It’s OK, it’s OK, you’re safe now,” Kurtz whispered.

Aleks placed the medical kit from the car next to the bed and unzipped it. Kurtz selected a syringe and injected a mild sedative into the girl’s arm. Giving it a few minutes to take effect, he laid out the other equipment he would need to treat her wounds.

The bites on her arm were deep gashes that exposed the muscles of her forearm. Kurtz injected a local anesthetic and went to work, trimming away the rotten flesh, removing debris, and closing the wounds with neat stitches. They worked for three hours, cleaning and stitching, Aleks attending as Kurtz performed the intricate work. Finally, once he had tied off the last stitch and injected her with a dose of antibiotics, they withdrew to the living room.

Aleks opened the seventies-style refrigerator to reveal a dozen of the locally brewed Borsodi Bivaly. “I think I love Ivan.” He popped the top off a couple of beers with a multitool and passed one to Kurtz. They both sat on the sagging sofa and stared at the wall, exhausted.

“We should probably set up comms and check in with Vance,” said Kurtz.

“
Da
…”

Neither man moved. They drank in silence.

A minute passed…then two.

Finally Kurtz broke the silence. “We did the right thing?”

“We did, comrade.”

“I had to try. I couldn’t leave Aurelia to die because of us. First Jess, then her…I just couldn’t.”

Kurtz had been in Sudan with Bishop and Aleks when they had lost Jess, a female doctor who was working with them. She had died in Kurtz’s arms and it had affected him profoundly.

Aleks nodded sympathetically. After a moment, he sighed, took a big swig of beer, and stood. “Let’s get the rest of the equipment out of the car and then sleep. You take the bed. I will take the couch. Vance can wait until we’re rested.”