PRIMAL Fury (The PRIMAL Series) (17 page)

“Who do you work for?” Bishop questioned the wounded Yakuza as they flew toward the border. They were crammed in the back of the Mi-17, not the best location for interrogation, especially with an audience of young women.

The heavyset gangster gave him a blank look. Bishop wanted to punch him in the face, but he refrained. He did not want to scare the girls any more than they already had been.

“Can I talk to him?” Kurtz had left the wounded woman—Kalista—in Saneh’s care. The German’s face was still covered in camouflage cream but he had taken off the ghillie suit.

Bishop glanced across to where Saneh was dressing Kalista’s wound. The former Iranian spy had used butterfly strips to secure the flap of flesh hanging from her face. The younger sister, Karla, had her arms wrapped around the girl.

“I can’t see why not, just don’t be too rough. We’ll save that for later.” Bishop sat to the side and Kurtz took his position in front of their captive.

The German leaned in close to the man’s face and spoke softly. “You think you’re the tough man,
ja
? Selling young girls to dirty old men.”

The Japanese criminal stared into his face.

“If you tell me who you work for I won’t have to kill you.”

The man smirked. “You can’t kill me, policeman, I know your rules.”

“Rules?” Ku
rtz laughed. “Do you really think I follow rules?” He gripped the man’s bandaged leg, applying pressure to the gunshot wound.

The gangster gasped in pain, then spat on the floor. “Fuck off, pig.”

“Now you’re beginning to piss me off.” Kurtz sighed. “Tell me what you know and I might think about letting you live.”

“Forget it, Kurtz, he won’t talk,” said Bishop. “These guys have a code. They’ll die before they rat on their mates.”

“What would you know about our ways?” the man snapped. “You’re all
gaijin
scum, just like these whores.”

Kurtz grabbed the front of the thug’s shirt and jerked him out of his seat. He dragged the wounded prisoner down the center of the helicopter, between the girls. Reaching the back of the chopper he punched the button that activated the clamshell doors. They swung open with a hiss and the wind whipped into the aircraft.

No one could hear what Kurtz said to the prisoner; he held him by the front of his shirt, their faces inches apart.

The Yakuza thug glanced over his shoulder at the ground racing by underneath. He turned back and said something in a panic, his face a mask of terror. Then he disappeared, dropped from the back of the helicopter.

Kurtz hit the button for the doors and they closed with a snap, returning the cabin to a more tolerable level of noise. Then he walked between the two lines of stunned teenagers and sat back down next to Bishop. They stared at him in shock.

“Mori-Kai,” Kurtz said flatly. “Does that mean anything to you?”

CHAPTER 32

ABANDONED AIR BASE, UKRAINE

“Good work, team.” Vance’s voice emanated from a laptop perched on a pile of equipment cases.

The PRIMAL operatives were back in the Ukrainian Air Force hangar. They had dropped the girls at a nearby Red Cross clinic before returning to their staging base and packing their gear. Work complete, they were now enjoying a well-earned beer.

He continued. “Yeah, it went to shit but that’s what contingency plans are for. Key thing is, we took apart the Hungarian side of the operation. I’ll hand you over to Chua for the latest intel before we make our next move.”

Chen Chua’s face replaced Vance’s on the laptop screen. “The intel you pulled off the castle has turned up a few solid leads. First, we’ve started following up on the Arab
sheikh
. It’s a pity Bishop lost his sunglasses so we don’t have a picture of him. Shedir’s a common name but Tariq’s confident he can track him down based on his travel movements.”

PRIMAL’s benefactor, Tariq Ahmed, was the CEO of a multi-billion-dollar logistics empire. The former Emirates police officer-
turned-businessman maintained his connections with the Abu Dhabi
Special Branch and ran his own network of agents. If anyone could track down the Arab flesh peddler, it was him.

“The critical piece of new information is the name Kurtz extracted. The Mori-Kai were an ancient Japanese clan based in Himeji. While my research hasn’t dug up anything recent, I’m convinced we’re on the right track. Additionally, the computer hack Bishop installed turned up a number of links between the Hungarian crime syndicate and mainland Japan.”

“The guys at the castle were absolutely Yakuza but they didn’t look like your average white-collar variety,” Bishop said as he took a swig from his beer. “The bodyguards were switched on, definitely ex-military. They rolled with submachine guns and covert armor.”

“I agree. It’s just a shame the one you grabbed managed to kill himself,” Chua said.

Bishop nodded; he hadn’t told Chua and Vance exactly what happened. The helicopter incident was something he needed to discuss with Kurtz.

“If there are no more questions, I’m going to hand you back to Vance.” Chua finished and the camera feed swapped to the PRIMAL director.

“OK, team, that’s the intel. Now for the good stuff. We’re gonna follow these leads and start pulling apart this network. Aleks, you and Kurtz are going to set up surveillance on the girls at the Red Cross facility. If these guys are as serious as we think they are, they’re going to find them pretty damn quick. We need to be ready if they do.”

Aleks and Kurtz nodded in unison.

“Mirza, you and your boys are heading across to the UAE. Once Tariq finds Shedir I want you to shake him down and get what you can out of him. When that’s done, I’ll hold you in place as a commander’s reserve. I got the log team to book you in at Atlantis. Take the opportunity to get a bit of R and R until you get back to the island.”

“Appreciated, sir,” said Mirza.

High fives were exchanged between Pavel and Miklos. Kruger also looked happy.

“That leaves Bishop and Saneh…no rest for the wicked. You two are heading to Japan. You’ll hook up with Chua’s cop in Tokyo and see where this Mori-Kai angle leads.”

“Do we have anything more to go on?” Bishop asked.

“Negative, that’s why you’re heading over there. We’ve got jack shit on this so far. We need you guys in-country to start gathering info. Chua and his team will work around the clock to turn it into actionable intel. We’ll deploy additional assets when doors need kicking. Anyone else got questions? Nope? Now get out there and kick some ass.”

The video link dropped and the screen went blank.

Bishop stood up. “All right, team, let’s get the last of this gear loaded and get the hell out of here. Good luck with your missions.”

They split up and Mitch and the CAT went back to stripping the weapon modules off the Mi-17 and packing them onto cargo pallets. The weaponry would go back to the island on a Lascar Logistics flight and Yuri, their arms dealer, would arrange to return the leased helicopter.

Bishop strolled over to where Aleks and Kurtz were loading equipment into their new car, an Audi A6 sedan. Their original V8-powered Audi and its load of weapons had been destroyed, a remotely activated incendiary device covering their tracks.

“New car OK?” Bishop asked.

“
Da
,”
Aleks replied.
“Not as fast as the other one, but Yuri made sure it has everything we need.”

“You got time for a quick chat?” Bishop directed Kurtz across to an empty corner of the hangar. “I was wondering if there was anything you wanted to tell me?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean is there something that happened in Hungary that you think I should know about?”

Kurtz stared at him for a few seconds. “You mean with the girl.”

Bishop nodded.

“What else could we do? We had to try and save her.”

“We’re talking about Aurelia, yeah? Your contact inside the kidnap gang?”

“Yes, they captured her. Aleks and I stormed the manor. We were too late; they killed her.” Kurtz could not hide the pained look on his face. “We found Kalista half-dead; we had to take her with us.”

“How did she end up at the castle?”

“I’m not sure. We left her in our safe house with instructions to stay put. But she must have wandered out onto the street and got picked up by the police.”

Bishop considered the information. “You could have compromised this entire operation.”

Kurtz remained silent.

“But I know why you did it and I probably would have done the same. Let’s just make sure it doesn’t happen again, OK?”

Kurtz nodded solemnly. “You’re not going to tell Vance?”

“No, I don’t think that’s necessary. But I do want to talk about the Jap in the helo.”

“There’s not much to say. I extracted the information we needed and then disposed of him.”

“We needed to bring that guy back here and run him through a full debriefing.”

“What more do you think he would have given us? He led us to this Mori-Kai. Then he ceased to be useful.”

“That’s not your decision to make!”

“This is true and for that I apologize. It won’t happen again.” Kurtz locked eyes with Bishop. “Now, if there’s nothing else, Aleks and I need to start our mission. The girls at the clinic are vulnerable.”

“Remember, we’re all a team here, Kurtz. We fight together, we support each other. That’s what we do.”

“Maybe something you should remember as well, Aden. Now I have to go.” With that Kurtz turned and left Bishop to contemplate his words.

Bishop wandered back over to where Saneh was packing communications equipment.

“What was that all about?” she asked as he sat down on a crate.

“Nothing, just the guy on the helo.”

“The jumper?”

“Yeah.”

“Go easy on Kurtz, Aden. He’s like you in more ways than one.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know exactly what it means; he wants to save everyone. He’s all heart and not enough brains.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of.”

“Aleks will look after him, just like Mirza and I have to look after you.”

“That’s right, is it? You and Mirza draw straws to see who’s got to babysit me, hey?”

Saneh snapped shut the lid of a Pelican case. “Something like that. Now let’s move or we’re going to miss our flight.”

CHAPTER 33

CASTLE LORAN

“We think was Special Force raid, no marks of attackers, many bullets, many bodies.” The Hungarian police officer’s English was terrible. It was, however, markedly better than his French, and Interpol Capitaine Rémi Marcen did not speak Hungarian.

“Yes, very good, thank you.” He turned away from the man. “Fucking moron.” The local police were about as effective at reading a crime site as his twelve-year-old daughter.

Marcen had arrived just after midday after flying in directly from Lyon. He had left within an hour of receiving the call, then had hired a car in Budapest and driven three hours to get to the castle.

The local police had been kind enough to lay out the bodies of the dead inside the courtyard and he had positively identified András and a few of his men. There were a dozen other people in custody, mostly the hotel staff but also two of András’s clients. The clients had been handed over to one of Rémi’s men, who spirited them away in his car. By now they would be on their way to the airport and back to their homes.

His phone buzzed; he flipped it open, checked the screen, and dropped it back into his pocket.

“I’m going now,” he told the senior Hungarian policeman.

“So soon?” The man grinned, not bothering to hide his contempt for the Frenchman.

Rémi turned, climbed into his rental car, and drove off down the gravel driveway. He passed the bullet-riddled remains of a four-wheel drive that had crashed into the ditch that ringed the castle, then continued across the open field and down into the forest that surrounded it. He drove slowly with the windows down until he spotted a thin black tie in a tree. He stopped the car and beeped the horn twice. There was a rustling in the bushes and a disheveled-looking Masateru appeared.

“So, we finally meet,” the Yakuza lieutenant said once he was in the car.

“I wish it were on better terms.” Rémi shook his hand, then continued driving down the road.

“Did you go up to the castle?”

“Yes.”

“Is anyone alive?”

“Only two of your clients; they’re with my men now. András and his thugs are all dead.”

“What about the girls?”

“They’re gone, just like you said. The local cops have no idea what happened, thick as shit.”

They slowed as they drove through the mangled gates at the estate guardhouse. The car shuddered as it drove over the pockmarked asphalt. A pair of local policemen waved them through.

“The men who did this are professionals, not a rival gang. It had to be state-sponsored,” said Masateru when they were out on the highway and heading back toward Budapest.

“I concur. András and his men were directly targeted by a well-trained and highly effective force.”

“They wore all black, with helmets,” added the Japanese gangster. “Like Navy SEALs.”

“It wouldn’t be American. I would know about it.”

“Even if it was the CIA?”

“Since when has the CIA been interested in the sex trade? Why would they target András?”

“Perhaps András had other business, something he’d hidden from us.”

“Then why would they take the girls? Was there anything at the castle that could link András to you?”

“No, but they took one of my men.”

“Shit, will he talk?”

“No, never. He’d die rather than betray us.”

“Let’s hope you’re right, otherwise these people could be coming after you.”

“Not if we find them first.”

“You’ve got a plan.”

Masateru nodded. “I’ve arranged for more of my men to arrive in Budapest. You will provide them with weapons and have your people find the girls. The
oyabun
still wants the blonde, and I have a feeling that Mr. Nigel Martin will not be far away.”

“I’ll put a call out. It won’t take my people long to find the girls.”