PRIMAL Vengeance (3) (31 page)

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Authors: Jack Silkstone

BOOK: PRIMAL Vengeance (3)
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       "Tank!" confirmed Aleks. "And that damn helicopter."

       Bishop sprinted to the window. Sure enough, at the end of the street sat a
Type 88 main battle tank
.

       "Zhu's really pulling out all the stops isn't he?" Bishop said. "Anyone would think we've got something he wants."

       "Ummm, we kind of do, boss!" said Aleks. "We've got his son."

       Bishop looked confused. "Then who did you swap for me?"

       "Someone Chua found on Chinese Facebook," explained Mirza. "Kurtz, how long till we evac?"

       The German consulted his watch. "Four minutes."

       "INCOMING!" screamed Aleks, diving from the window.

       The entire building shook as a 105mm round slammed into the bottom floor. The explosion sent dust rolling up the staircase and left their ears ringing.

       The loud bark of an AK47 added to the calamity as Kurtz fired his weapon at full-automatic down the street. "
Mutter
fuckers!"

       "Upstairs! Go, go, go! We've got ten seconds!" Mirza ordered, knowing a follow-up shot from the tank would not be far behind. "Autoloader," he explained as he grabbed Bishop by the arm and dragged him up the staircase onto the roof. They dove to the ground and Aleks slid in next to them.

       Kurtz was still firing his weapon out the window below.

       There was another boom as the tank fired. The round slammed into the weak concrete, blowing a hole in the side of the building. Kurtz sprinted across the floor for the stairs as it collapsed behind him. He barely made it, hitting the stronger staircase as the entire centre of the building collapsed.

       "We need to get out of here," he screamed. "The whole building is collapsing."

       "
Da
, thanks Einstein," said Aleks.

       Another round slammed into the building, shaking its foundations.

       "One minute," announced Kurtz.

       "COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP OR WE WILL FIRE AGAIN!" the megaphone on the helicopter hovering above the tank blared.

       "It's that cock sucker Yang," said Bishop. "How the hell did he find us?"

       "Must have tracked us with the chopper," Kurtz said.

       "Give me the AK," Bishop said, reaching out for the German's weapon.

       "No," snapped Mirza. "There will be time for revenge but now we need them to think we're going to surrender. We need to buy time."

       "Fuck that!" Kurtz swore as he knelt over the lip that ringed the roof and fired another burst from his AK.

       Bullets snapped over their heads as the Sudanese Police returned fire.

       "Another excellent idea," said Aleks as they all pushed their bodies flat against the dusty concrete.

       "THIS IS YOUR LAST WARNING. COME OUT NOW WITH YOUR HANDS UP OR WE WILL FIRE!"

       Slowly the four PRIMAL operatives got to their feet.

 

***

 

       Yang watched them from the helicopter, satisfied he had them trapped. He hit the transmit button on his radio and ordered one of the police squads to secure the building and arrest the fugitives.

       Zhu would be happy; they would now have three more prisoners to negotiate the release of Ping. That meant he could let The Butcher wring as much information out of Aden as they wanted.

       He looked down into the alley and watched the Sudanese Police work their way towards the building. After their last run in with Aden and his colleagues, they were taking no chances.

       "Put us down behind the tank," he ordered the pilot. Yang wanted to be on the ground ready to greet Aden, and he smiled at the thought of victory. In his pocket his phone buzzed. He unfolded it, pulled off his headset and held it up to his ear.

       "Hello!" he yelled into the phone over the helicopter's noise.

       He cupped his hand over the phone pressing it up against his head.

       "Yang!"

       "Who's this?"

       "It's me, Aden."

       Yang laughed. "You have rung to surrender?"

       "Not really. More to say FUCK YOU!"

 

***

 

       "Thanks," Bishop tossed the phone back to Mirza. "Kurtz, time check."

       "Now!" the German announced.

       The tilt-rotor appeared from behind the building as Kurtz spoke. Its blades thrashed the surrounding streets with downwash sending a cloud of dust billowing out from the extraction point. It hung in the air like a predatory bird, its weapon pod unsheathed like a set of talons.

       The roar of the minigun filled the air as the remote system poured rounds into the Type 88 tank. The stream of armor-piercing rounds lashed it, smashing sights and tearing antennas.

       Mirza, Bishop, Aleks and Kurtz clapped their hands to their ears as thousands of casings cascaded down on top of them, a shower of hot brass.

       Inside the tank the crew cowered as the deafening blast of rounds slammed into the armor. The crew commander jerked at the trigger, sending a final round downrange.

       It screamed down the alley past the SWAT team and slammed into the bottom floor, tearing the guts from the building.

       "MITCH, WE NEED EXFIL NOW!" Mirza screamed into his radio.

       "Wilco, chaps."

       The PRIMAL pilot fired one last burst, this time at the PETROCON helicopter that was landing behind the tank. The helo jolted and dropped, crashing into the street.

       Mitch brought Dragonfly down on the flat roof, hovering with wheels inches off the surface. The building gave a groan and a shudder.

       "She's gonna go!" yelled Bishop as he leapt through the door and into the aircraft. Kurtz was hot on his heels, throwing himself inside. Aleks followed him, barrelling into the cabin.

       With a shudder, the entire building slipped sideways, the roof dropping from horizontal to a 45-degree angle. Mirza slid, scrabbling for a foothold.

       "COME ON!" Bishop screamed from the doorway.

       Mirza yelled as he sprinted as hard as he could, driving up the rooftop as it started to collapse. He reached the edge and leapt into the air, hitting the lip of the aircraft's door with a thud. As he slid backwards, Bishop grabbed him and hauled him into the cabin.

       "Punch it, Chewie!" Bishop yelled.

       Mitch gave his best impression of a Wookie as he pushed the aircraft's throttles forward. Dragonfly's engines roared as the props transited forward rocketing the little craft beyond 300 kilometers an hour.

 

***

 

       The PETROCON helo lay crumpled in the middle of the street, rotors bent and ruined. Yang had been thrown free and lay stunned as he watched the rescue in disbelief.

       Twice now Aden had escaped him. The man was a walking, talking wrecking ball and Yang's aching body would not let him forget it. The Chinese operative rose stiffly to his feet, the pain reminding him of other humiliating defeats. A blown up cargo ship, shot down attack helicopter, and now shot down again; Yang wasn't sure if he was more furious or shocked at the turn of events.

       For a few seconds he contemplated calling the Sudanese Air Force and scrambling jets to interdict the tilt-rotor. He shook his head. What would that achieve? Aden and his men may die, but he would be no closer to revealing the identity of their shadowy organization.

       His phone started ringing. It was Zhu. Yang took a deep breath and answered the call. At least he had one last chance to seek vengeance and redeem himself.

 

Chapter 53

 

Abu Dhabi International Airport, United Arab Emirates

 

       The Lascar Logistics terminal at Abu Dhabi was extensive. Rows of heavy cargo aircraft waited to load and unload. A fleet of ground support vehicles assisted in the process, moving cargo back and forth from a freight terminal. The maintenance hangars were huge, large enough to fit the big four-engined Ilyushins. To the outside observer it all looked legitimate, another air freight operator conducting day-to-day operations.

       Mitch landed the PRIMAL tilt-rotor just after sundown. They came in fast with navigation lights turned off, landing vertically in the middle of the apron reserved for Lascar aircraft. Mitch taxied Dragonfly to the last unmarked hangar. The giant metal doors slid apart and they nosed in next to a business jet.

       Dragonfly's rear hatch slid open, a set of aluminum stairs unfolded and Bishop stepped tenderly onto the polished concrete floor. The rest of the team followed, heading across to the briefing room. Behind them the hangar doors had shut. The Priority Movements Airlift hangar was secure.

       Bishop slumped into a sofa as Aleks made a beeline for the refrigerator. It was well stocked with beer. "Cold one, comrade?" he asked.

       "Hell yeah, mate, all I want is a beer, a shower and to hit the rack!"

       Kurtz, Mirza and Mitch all filed into the room and the Russian handed them cold beers as they passed the fridge.

       "So now we work out how to kill that Chinese bastard,
ja
!" said Kurtz as he sucked back an Einbecker.

       "Not me." Mirza shook his head. "I need to get back to Africa and help Jonjo take care of Garang."

       "I'm with Kurtz," said Aleks. "The girl was killed by Chinese. Chinese needs to die first!"

       "It seems like you've all got vengeance on your mind," Mitch commented as he dropped into the couch next to Bishop. "What about you, Bish? You're the one that took all the hits. Who gets it first?"

       Bishop took a gulp of his beer and stared at the wall. "They'll all get what's coming to them, mate. I want payback for Jess more than anyone here, but the mission comes first and that means forcing Zhu to withdraw all military aid to Sudan. I'm guessing that's why we've got his son, yeah?"

       "That's Chua's plan," said Mirza. "We've got orders scheduled for 1100 hours local tomorrow to discuss the next phase."

       "So where's the kid now?" asked Bishop.

       "No idea," said Mirza. "All I know is Saneh's babysitting him."

       Bishop raised an eyebrow.

       Mitch slapped him on the knee, "I don't think you've got much competition from him, champ. Right now he's probably sitting in the corner of a room terrified out of his mind as that woman of yours field strips a pistol whilst hanging from the roof blindfolded."

       They all laughed except Bishop, who drank the last of his beer, then stood up. "Team, we've got six hours till the orders group with the Bunker. I for one could do with some sleep. Let's reconvene here at 1030 tomorrow, OK?" Bishop dropped the empty beer bottle in the trash as he left the room.

       "How's he doing, Mirza?" asked Mitch when the PRIMAL operative had left the room.

       "Bit bruised but he's OK." Mirza had given Aden a full physical on the trip back from Khartoum. "You know what he's like. He'll bottle up the emotion until he can focus it on the bad guys."

       "I want to see him tear the arms off that Chinese bastard!" growled Kurtz.

       "
Da
, like those people-smuggling pieces of shit in Budapest!" agreed Aleks.

       Before joining the Sudanese recovery operation, the German and the Russian had been tracking down a people-smuggling ring based out of Hungary. Now that Bishop was safe they were keen to kill Yang and get back to work. Both were heavily invested, emotionally, in the European operation.

       Mirza got up next. "The Bunker will confirm what's happening tomorrow. I suggest you all get some sleep as well." He threw his own bottle in the bin and left the room.

       Kurtz and Aleks followed, discussing some of the finer details of what they'd like to do to Yang. Finally it was only Mitch left in the room. He let out a sigh, kicked his legs up on the sofa and set his alarm for an hour's time. Five hours should be enough to get Dragonfly ready for any future tasks.

 

Chapter 54

 

The Bunker, Lascar Island

 

       "Seriously Vance how long do I have to keep babysitting the kid?" asked Saneh.

       "Twenty-four hours. Chua wants to let Zhu simmer a bit before he makes his demands." Vance was in his office talking to PRIMAL's only female field operative via the island's integrated radio network. Saneh was only a few kilometers away on an isolated part of the island.

       "Twenty-four more hours? I won't lie, Vance. There's a good chance I'll neck the spoilt little shit before then. He whines like a school girl."

       "He's on a tropical island with a beautiful woman, what's his problem?"

       "I might've taken him for a run."

       Vance started laughing. "Tubby little fucker struggled, did he?"

       "Just a little. He vomited twice before we even made it to the first ridgeline."

       "Just make sure you keep him alive."

       "I will. Vance, how's Bishop doing?"

       "He's OK. Needs a bit of down time. The boys should be back tomorrow. Look, I've got to go. We've got an O group in a few hours. I'll let you know what falls out of it."

       "Thanks. Saneh out."

       Vance walked out of his office into the operations room. There were only a handful of people at their desks. The LED screen that outlined the status of all the units currently in the field was empty. All PRIMAL operatives were safe and sound. For the Director of Operations that meant a good night's sleep for once.

       "Good outcome all round," said Chua from the other side of the room. "Just need to finish negotiating with Zhu, and wrap up that traitor Garang.

       "Yeah, I can't help but feel we got real lucky on this one, buddy. It could easily have been Bishop going home in a body bag." Vance turned to the watchkeeper. "That reminds me, what's going on with the girl's body?"

       The watchkeeper looked up from his terminal. "Sir, one of the SFF fighters, Jonjo, returned her to the hospital in Juba. From there she was moved to the US embassy."

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