PRIMAL Vengeance (3) (32 page)

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Authors: Jack Silkstone

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       "OK. Her father is some kind of big wig surgeon, right? I want to make sure he gets more than a short note from the State Department. He deserves to know his daughter died for a just cause."

       Chua nodded in agreement. "The SFF have put a serious dent in both the Sudanese deniable capability and the Chinese will to continue the fight. From what I understand Doctor Hutton played a critical role in that."

       "Mirza spoke very highly of her, she saved a lot of lives," agreed Vance.

       "Her loss won't be in vain, Vance. We're in a good position now. We've cost PETROCON and China a lot of resources and should be able to force Zhu into withdrawing his support for the Janjaweed. Maybe even a Chinese vote in the UN Security Council for an increased peacekeeping force."

       "You seriously think that's an option? You think Zhu has that much clout?"

       "He regularly meets with a number of members of the People's National Council. He's got serious connections and wants his son alive."

       "Sir," the watchkeeper interrupted them, "you've got a call. It's Tariq."

       Chua gave Vance a sideways look. PRIMAL's wealthy benefactor rarely called them. Chua took the call. The conversation was short; the owner of Lascar Logistics and former head of Abu Dhabi Police Special Branch was a busy man. Chua handed the phone back to the watchkeeper.

       "We've got a big problem!" the Chinese American said.

       "What?" asked Vance.

       "Yang has been spotted in Abu Dhabi."

       "What the fuck?"

       "The security system at the airport detected him but he escaped arrest," Chua explained.

       "But how the hell did he track the team?"

       "There's only one way that could have happened," stated Chua.

       "Bishop!"

       "He's the only one they've had contact with. They can't have tracked Dragonfly. Mitch runs bug sweeps over it regularly, it's got no markings and he ran a crazy Ivan flight path. It has to be Bishop."

       "Wake the boys up. They've got work to do."

 

Chapter 55

 

Priority Movements Airlift Hangar, Abu Dhabi International Airport

 

       "Are you sure you know what you're doing, Kurtz?" Bishop asked.

       "Just hold still,
ja
!"

       As soon as the bunker had informed them that Yang had tracked them to Abu Dhabi Mitch had run a scanner over Bishop and his clothing. The PRIMAL technician had found a very low frequency tracker emitting from the gunshot wound in Bishop's arm. Kurtz had immediately volunteered to remove the device, claiming he was a qualified advanced medic during his GSG9 days. With Aleks assisting, they proceeded to use the hangar's waiting room as a makeshift surgery.

       "Aleks, give me the injection," asked Kurtz.

       The big man passed him a pre-packaged local anesthetic.

       Kurtz plunged the injection into Bishop's arm.

       "Fuck me! What are you, a goddamn horse doctor? It's my arm, not a cow's arse."

       "
Du bist ein Mädchen
."

       Aleks laughed.

       "What did he say?"

       "He says you are a girl."

       "Hmmph, fair enough. Now give me another scotch."

       "
Nein
," Kurtz said shaking his hand. Alcohol will mix with the local anesthetic and make you sleepy."

       "No, we don't want that. I've got to find that bastard Yang."

       "Can you feel this?" Kurtz asked poking his finger into the stitched wound in Bishop's shoulder."

       "Nope!"

       "Perfect." Despite his lankiness, Kurtz could have been a surgeon. He cut the stitches and opened the wound with a deft hand. Then he reached into the hole with a pair of forceps and drew out the tracker, dropping it into the plastic container that Aleks was holding.

       The device was the size of a large vitamin capsule. The Russian squirted it clean with a jet of saline solution and handed it to Mitch.

       The technician gave a low whistle. "This is state-of-the-art, lads. You'd expect something like this out of the
NSA
or
GCHQ
, not the bloody ChiComs." He opened a small metal box and dropped it inside, shielding the signal. "I'll give it the once over when we get back to the Bunker. Might be worth getting a few of our own."

       Kurtz closed the wound in Bishop's arm with a row of neat tight stitches. A bandage completed the treatment. "There. Good as new."

       Bishop grasped his friend's shoulder with his good arm. "You're a good man to have around, Kurtz."

       The German beamed.

       The door to the room opened and Mirza entered. "I checked the perimeter. No sign of Yang or any of his men."

       Mitch nodded. "I don't think they were able to get an accurate fix on the signal. It would have led them to Abu Dhabi but that's it. My guess, one of the sensors at the Chinese Embassy got a sniff of it on the flight in, but inside the aluminum walls of this hangar the signal would have been cut off."

       "They know we came in by aircraft though. That narrows it down," stated Mirza. "And Yang knows we use the tilt-rotor.

       "True," said Bishop. "Yang will probably be looking for Dragonfly."

       Mirza was deep in thought as he took a bottle of water from the fridge. "I know I have only been with PRIMAL for a year, but this is the closest I've seen to our organization being compromised. If it weren't for the airport security, the Chinese would definitely have surprised us."

       A new voice interrupted them. "Wouldn't be hard, gentlemen. What with no one keeping watch," said Tariq Ahmed. Dressed in one of his signature European-cut suits the head of Lascar Logistics was standing in the doorway stroking his perfectly manicured beard. In his other hand he held an exquisite brown leather briefcase.

       "It helps if you have the keys," said Bishop, jumping out of his chair to grasp Tariq's hand.

       "Always making excuses, Aden. I trust you're bug-free now?"

       "Thanks to Kurtz I'm clean as a whistle. It's good to see you again, Tariq."

       "Yes, it's good to see you all. But let's cut to business." Tariq pulled up a chair and sat down, placing the briefcase on the table. "Your friend, Mr Yang Tan, PLA Second Department, currently seconded to PETROCON, arrived in Abu Dhabi at 1030 hours yesterday on a Qatar Airways flight direct from Khartoum. Interestingly he entered my country under the name Tran Wang."

       He reached into the briefcase and pulled out an A4 photograph showing Yang's face. Bishop picked it up off the table.

       "No doubt about it, that's our boy," Bishop confirmed. "He must have jumped on a flight as soon as we bugged out."

       "It would seem that way. Chua had him added to our watch list earlier in the week. He would have slipped through unnoticed except for the new facial recognition software."

       "So what the hell happened at the airport?" asked Bishop. "Why wasn't he detained?"

       "He attacked and disarmed two of the airport guards. One of them has a broken arm. The other will never walk again."

       "Yeah, he's one lethal little bastard. So did you track him?"

       Tariq shook his head. "He was picked up by a car and escaped towards the Chinese quarter."

       "So he's got a support base here."

       "Abu Dhabi has a large population of Chinese workers. I have no doubt some of them are Chinese Intelligence. If you want I can mobilize my people to find him. I still have a significant amount of influence over Special Branch operations."

       "What will Special Branch do if they find him?" Bishop asked.

       "He will simply disappear in the desert. It has happened many times before."

       Bishop went cold. "No! PRIMAL will find him and I will ensure he tells us everything about his Sudanese operations. Then I will finish him personally."

       "It should be easy enough," Tariq said. "You already have the upper hand."

       "How is that?" asked Kurtz. "We have no idea where he is in the city."

       "Don't you? I mean you know exactly what he's looking for." The Arab turned for the door. "Gentlemen, I must return to my duties. If there's anything you need please contact my office."

       "Just one more thing, Tariq," said Bishop.

       "Yes?"

       "Can you get us one of your special police vehicles, the black G55s?"

       Tariq smiled. "Of course. If someone drives me back to my office, you can have the one parked in front of this hangar."

 

Chapter 56

 

Abu Dhabi International Airport

 

       You can find them at almost every airport across the globe. Highly dedicated individuals committed to the cult of plane spotting. Rain, hail or shine they stand vigil, tracking aircraft across the globe, hunting for that elusive tail number.

       The group staking out Abu Dhabi International Airport was no different. Slightly awkward social misfits, passionate about their hobby and willing to talk to anyone who showed an interest.

       Yang did not approach them immediately. At first he had staked out the airfield in his hire car, hoping to get lucky and spot the tilt-rotor. He had circled the airport perimeter a number of times with no luck. The radio scanner he was using failed to detect even the faintest trace of the tracking device in Bishop's arm. He was about to give up when he noticed the group of spotters camped on the perimeter fence at the end of the runway. Armed with binoculars and telephoto lenses they provided an almost twenty-four hour surveillance capability.

       Yang had set up his tripod and camera near the group, taking photos of random jets as they landed. Finally one of the spotters had detached himself and wandered over to talk to the newcomer.

       "Busy, isn't it?" the man asked.

       Yang gave him a sincere smile. "My first time here."

       "Oh, it is a fine day for it. Wait a few more hours and it will get even more hectic!"

       They chatted for a minute before Yang showed him a picture he had printed from the internet. "Have you ever seen an aircraft like this?"

       "Oh, the BA609. Yes, I've seen one a few times. The tilt-rotor is not based here but it comes in every now and then."

       The geek gestured for Yang to lean in closer. "It flies at night, mostly. No tail markings," he tapped his nose, "if you know what I mean."

       "I've never seen one in real life," said Yang. "Only on the web."

       "You've come to the right place then," grinned the enthusiast. "She flew in last night. Should leave today or tomorrow. Never stays long."

       "Where do they park her?" asked Yang.

       "Not sure, but one of the boys will know, I'll ask." The young man addressed the other spotters in Arabic. A dialogue ensued before he turned back to the Chinese operative. "There is a big grey hangar on the eastern side of the runway in the commercial aviation sector. There are no markings. Probably some sort of secret government outfit."

       "I might go and have a look," said Yang. "Try and see if I can sneak a peek."

       "Be careful. The police here are often paranoid. Speak of the devil, here they come for another ID check."

       A black Mercedes four-wheel drive with heavily tinted windows turned off the highway and pulled in behind the cluster of cars parked along the dirt strip.

       Yang's Toyota hire car was parked at the far end of the group. He contemplated making a run for it but decided to not draw attention to himself. His papers were in order and if it came to the worst, he could always make use of his diplomatic immunity.

 

***

 

       "That's him," said Bishop from the back seat of the Mercedes SUV. Aleks and Kurtz were sitting in the front, dressed in UAE police uniforms complete with pistol belts and handcuffs.

       "The little guy with the camera,
ja
?" asked Kurtz.

       "No, the tall Arab guy with the binoculars. Of course it's the Asian, you idiot," said Aleks.

       "Fuck you!" returned Kurtz.

       "You're like bloody schoolkids," said Bishop. "This guy is a dead-set ninja fuckmaster, so be extra careful, OK."

       "Sure boss, very careful," said the Russian, cracking his knuckles.

       "Why can't I just shoot him?" asked Kurtz. "I could just get out of the car, walk up to him and pop one in his face. Job done, all good, back in time for jam and biscuits. He deserves it after what his men did to the girl."

       Bishop shook his head. "Like I told you before, we need him for information. There is unfinished business in Sudan."

       The two PRIMAL operatives left the four-wheel drive and strode across to the group of spotters. Bishop checked his pistol but remained in the vehicle. He did not want to risk being recognized by Yang and losing the element of surprise.

       "We need everyone to leave right now," growled Aleks in heavily accented Arabic.

       The spotters began packing their equipment, folding up their chairs and moving to their cars. Yang made to do the same.

       "Not you!" Aleks switched to English as he pointed at Yang. "We need to see your papers."

       Yang eyeballed the two men suspiciously. He knew the Emirates hired a lot of Westerners for their military but he did not expect foreigners in the police force.

       "Officer, I am a Chinese national from the Embassy," Yang said as he produced his passport. "I'm just here to watch the jets."

       "On your knees." Aleks drew his pistol and pointed it squarely in the face of the Chinese operative. Kurtz did the same ensuring he was at ninety degrees to his partner. "Put your hands on your head and get on your knees," Aleks repeated.

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