PRIMAL Vengeance (3) (25 page)

       "That sounds like a plan. Jess and I will head to Juba. We'll take the Hilux. Jonjo, you and Mirza stay here and keep up operations against the Janjaweed. We'll only be gone two days. Hopefully we can get more tribes to join us. Any objections?"

       There was silence from the group.

       "Excellent. Jess, we'll roll in a few hours. I need to get a bit of shut-eye before I fall asleep on my feet."

Chapter 39

Juba, South Sudan

       "How far?" Bishop turned the battered Hilux off the main gravel road in the center of town.

       "It's at the end of this street," Jess replied. The last time she had been to the SFF safehouse was months ago, during a time she had shared hopes and ambitions with Garang. She was not looking forward to seeing him.

       The safehouse was located on the outskirts of Juba within a group of high-walled compounds that lined the dirt street. The suburb was barely a step up from a shantytown, the basic buildings constructed with cheap concrete blocks, walls topped with broken glass to deter intruders. Trash filled the streets and the smell of burning plastic hung in the air.

       Bishop parked the Hilux a short distance down the street and called Garang on his phone. The African-American answered on the second ring.

       "Are you close?"

       "We're just down the street. Is everything OK?" Bishop asked.

       "Yes, everything is good. The delegations will start arriving soon. I need you to be here to greet them. It's very important that you are here first."

       "We'll be there in a moment." Bishop terminated the call.

       "What's wrong?" Jess asked.

       "Nothing. Garang just seems a little stressed."

       "Yes. A lot is riding on this meeting. Perhaps it would be best if I stayed in the car?"

       "What? No, you'll be safer inside with us."

       They left the truck and walked to the compound. Bishop had left his AK104 locked in the car along with his vest. He covered his pistol belt with his shirt.

       "This is it," said Jess as they approached a wall with a heavy metal door. She rapped on the door a few times and thirty seconds later it opened with a screech.

       One of Garang's trusted fighters let them in. The man lowered his AK47 and escorted them to the courtyard where the Southern Freedom Fighters' leader greeted them.

       "Aden, thanks for coming. Is it just you?" Garang asked. "I thought Mirza was coming as well?"

       "Just me and Jess. Mirza and Jonjo are holding the fort."

       Garang gave Jess a look that suggested she was not welcome. "We're leaving weapons outside, Aden." He pointed to a low wooden table at the entrance to the main building.

       "Why?" asked Bishop.

       "It's a sign of respect to the other leaders. My men outside will be armed but weapons won't be allowed in the room."

       "Fair enough." Bishop took his sidearm from its holster, removed the magazine and cocked it, catching the ejected round in his right hand. The last thing he wanted was someone shooting him with his own pistol.

       For a safe house it was relatively well furnished. A large rug covered the concrete floor with a number of comfortable-looking couches pressed up against the walls.

       "Jonjo tells me the mission in Khartoum was a success," said Garang as they sat down.

       "No problems; in and out quick. Omar got taken down."

       "Well done. While you've been away we have been busy as well."

       "Jonjo filled me in. Have you had any luck with the other militias?"

       "Yes and no. They seem interested and promise big things but so far they have done little. I am hoping this meeting today will make them commit."

       One of Garang's men opened the door and gestured for the SFF leader to join him outside.

       "Excuse me, I will greet our guests." Garang left the room.

       Jess waited a few seconds before speaking. "He's acting weird."

       "Tell me about it." Bishop was up and moving for the door. "I should have brought Mirza."

       The door opened when the PRIMAL operative was only a few feet from it. The figure that burst into the room was not one of Garang's men.

       Bishop grabbed the man's weapon, pushed it skyward and drove his fist into the man's face. The Chinese contractor collapsed and Bishop yanked the weapon from his hands. Before he could turn it around to face his attackers, a second man replaced the first.

       A pistol fired and Bishop staggered backwards, turned and collapsed face down on the rug.

       "ADEN!" screamed Jess, running towards him.

       The guard grabbed her hair, dragging her away.

       More men entered the room: two Chinese guards, Garang and the Chinese operative Yang!

       "Garang! You killed him, you fucking traitor," screamed Jess, struggling against her captor. "You sold us out, didn't you, you worthless coward—"

       Garang slapped her savagely. "Shut up, bitch. I've saved us. The Americans were never going to give us the investment we needed. We would have lost. This way everyone will get rich."

       Tears streamed down Jess's face as she continued to struggle against a vice-like grip.

       "Where is the other one?" Yang asked calmly. "There are supposed to be two. You promised me both of them."

       "The other one stayed with my men. He is not the leader. This one is the leader."

       "Yes, but you promised both." The Chinese operative stared calmly at Garang like a snake watching a mouse.

       "I will deal with him later. Without this one he is nothing."

       Yang snapped an order at one of his men. The guard knelt next to Bishop's body and checked his pulse. The man looked up at Yang and spoke to him in Chinese.

       "He is still alive," translated Yang.

       The guard rolled Bishop over.

       "Hello, champ," the PRIMAL operative greeted Yang cheerfully. "Fancy seeing you here." He had his hands by his side, his iPRIMAL covered by his hand.

       The guard's bullet had hit Bishop in the upper left arm, punching though his flesh only a few inches lower than his shoulder. It was a straight in and out shot, unlikely to have caused much trauma.

       "I knew it was you," spat Yang. "The 'Tian Hai', the ambush, the helicopter, Khartoum; it was all you!"

       "Bingo! Regular fucking Sherlock Holmes, aren't you?"

       Garang crossed the room and plucked the device from Bishop's hand. He inspected the screen. "He's been recording us."

       There was a loud bang and the device detonated in Garang's hand. He emitted a blood-curdling scream as his fingers were shredded by the tiny charge inside the device. Plastic and glass sliced into his flesh. He dropped to his knees, clutching the ruined hand in front of him, whimpering.

       "That's one reason to use hands-free," quipped Bishop.

       Yang watched Garang with disdain and gestured for one of his men to remove the wounded man. "Take him to the Bangladeshi hospital," he ordered in Chinese.

       "What about my money?" Garang whimpered.

       Yang took a silver brief case from one of his guards and thrust it towards the wounded SFF commander. "I should halve it, but as a gesture of goodwill I will let you have it all. Now take him to the hospital." The guard shepherded Garang out of the room.

       Yang turned his attention back to Bishop. "I'm sure you think you are very funny. I can promise you will not be laughing when I am finished with you."

       He turned to the two remaining guards, switching to his native tongue. "Sedate them and load them both in the truck. The woman might end up being useful."

Chapter 40

The Bunker, Lascar Island

       "Sir, we have a major problem." The operations watchkeeper burst into Vance's office.

       "Bishop?" the PRIMAL commander immediately asked.

       "The meet's gone bad."

       For a big man Vance moved fast. He jumped up out of his chair and followed the watchkeeper into the operations room.

       On the central screen a high-resolution satellite image showed the location of Bishop's iPRIMAL combat interface in downtown Juba, a kilometer west of the airport.

       Everyone in the room was silent as they listened to the audio feed being transmitted from Bishop's phone. It was audible but muffled, as if the device was under a pillow or blanket.

       "Shut up, bitch. I've saved us. The Americans were never going to give us the investment we needed. We would have lost. This way everyone will get rich."

       They could hear the sound of Jess crying and the slap. On one of the other screens voice recognition software confirmed the voice as being Garang's, the leader of the SFF. Vance scowled. The ungrateful bastard had sold them out.

      
"Where is the other one? There are supposed to be two. You promised me both of them."

       Vance glanced up at the other screen. The software had captured the voice and was searching databases. The accent was clear: Chinese.

       "The other one stayed with my men. He is not the leader. This one is the leader."

       Thoughts raced through Vance's head. What the fuck was going on? Was Bishop still alive or was he dead? How come they could not hear him?

       The software still had not found a link to the Chinese guy.

       "Yes, but you promised both."

       "I will deal with him later. Without this one he is nothing."

       "Big call, fucktard!" Vance growled. Mirza was not the sort of guy that anyone in the operations room would have crossed. Everyone knew the lightly built Indian was lethal; a quiet killer who would never give up until he completed his mission.

       The Chinese guy spoke is his native tongue. Mandarin, if Vance wasn't mistaken.

      
"He is still alive."

       There was a collective sigh in the Ops room.

       "Hello, champ. Fancy seeing you here."

       The audio feed improved dramatically, as if a pillow had been lifted. Vance couldn't help but smile.

       "I knew it was you. The 'Tian Hai', the ambush, the helicopter, Khartoum; it was all you!"

       Clearly Bishop and this Chinese guy had developed a close working relationship, he thought. Vance glanced at the technician controlling Bishop's phone and gave him a thumbs up. The tech nodded back.

      
"Bingo! Regular fucking Sherlock Holmes, aren't you?"

Vance kept his thumb extended upwards.

      
 "He's been recording us!"

The voice was louder than any other sounds. The speaker was in very close proximity to Garang. Vance dropped his thumb, turning his hand down. The technician hit the signal to detonate the explosive charge in the phone.

       "Intel! I want know who this Chinese fucker is and I want to know yesterday," bellowed Vance.

       "We got him, Sir. His name is Yang Tan. CIA have him on file as a PLA operative, Second Department."

       "Alright, that makes sense. Now where are they gonna take Bishop? Back to Khartoum or over to the refinery? Someone get Chua in here. I want answers ASAP."

       "He's been paged. He'll be in any minute," said the watchkeeper.

       "Good. In the meantime, let's get on to Mirza and give him an update. Then I want to know what assets we have nearby and how long it will take to get them in country. Mirza is gonna need back up."

       The operations staff were already busy at their terminals putting together the information that Vance required. They had been here before and knew exactly what needed to happen.

       Vance turned and headed back to his office. He needed to put in a few calls of his own.

       Halfway to his door, he stopped. "One last thing, someone come up with a plan to execute that goddamn turncoat. By this time next week I want Garang dead in a ditch somewhere."

Chapter 41

Unknown Location, Sudan

       Bishop's head was throbbing. The fact that it was bashing against the window of a SUV probably didn't help. As he slowly regained consciousness, he realized his feet were bound and his hands were firmly secured behind his back. He shuffled up into a sitting position and looked out the window at the landscape racing past.

       "Our guest is awake."

       The rough Chinese accent caught Bishop's attention and he glanced forward into the vehicle's rear vision mirror. Yang's reptilian stare glared back at him.

       "Thanks for the wake-up call. How long till room service?" asked Bishop.

       "You still think you are funny. That will change," said Yang.

       Bishop turned his head and realized that Jess was sitting next to him, still unconscious.

       "Jess." He shuffled over towards her. "Jess, can you hear me?"

       "She will be awake soon. She is not as big as you. The drugs will take longer. How is your arm?"

       Bishop glanced at his left shoulder. It was wrapped in a heavy bandage.

       "I took the liberty of closing the wound for you."

       "Shit, makes me feel bad about sticking a knife in your leg."

       "Somehow I doubt that, Aden."

       "No, you're right. That was a pretty sweet move."

       There was silence as Yang glared in the mirror of the SUV. Bishop ignored him, focusing his attention on the still unconscious doctor.