PRIMAL Fury (The PRIMAL Series) (34 page)

CHAPTER 65

YAMAGUCHI-GUMI SAFE HOUSE

“Mate, you got a minute?” Bishop walked over to Kurtz, who was sitting by himself in the corner working on his body armor. It was late and the team was checking through their gear before turning in.

“
Ja
.” Kurtz continued to attach pouches to his armor.

“I was pretty harsh on you before and I want to apologize.”

Kurtz looked up at Bishop with his piercing blue eyes. “Apology accepted,” he grunted as he returned to his pouches.

“We’re going to get Karla back. I promise you that.”

“We’ll see.”

“We good?”

Kurtz nodded. “We’re good, Aden. Let’s focus on the mission.”

“I’m glad. You know we can’t succeed without you.”

Bishop returned to where Saneh was sitting.

“How did that go?” she asked as she cleaned her Tavor assault rifle.

“How do you think it went?” Bishop fired back.

Saneh shook her head. “It’s like working with children,” she said under her breath as she returned to oiling the bolt of the weapon.

A pinging noise emitted from the security laptop, and she glanced at the screen. Motion sensors had detected someone walking down the narrow street that led to the safe house. As the man got closer she zoomed in the camera. A yellow square highlighted their Yamaguchi partner’s face as the recognition software identified him. “Kenta’s back.”

“I’ll let him in.” Bishop met the stocky Yakuza at the front door. “Hey, how did it go?”

“Good. Has the rest of your team arrived?”

“Yeah they have.” Bishop sniffed as Kenta passed him in the corridor, reeking of alcohol and cigarette smoke.

“Kenta, have you been drinking?” Bishop grabbed him by the shoulder.

“
Hai
, I spent four hours in a girlie bar; of course I was drinking.”

“Are you drunk?”

Kenta started laughing. “Half a bottle of whiskey doesn’t get me drunk. I do have the name and address of one of the Mori-Kai’s clients though.” He handed over the scrap of paper and continued into the main clubroom.

Bishop slapped him on the shoulder, walking beside him. “Good work. This could be the break we’re looking for.”

As they entered into the clubroom the rest of the team looked up from what they were doing.

“Kenta, let me introduce you to Aleks and Kurtz.”

“Hello.” The Yamaguchi gangster bowed his head in greeting.

Aleks got up from where he was sitting on his trunk and shook hands. The Russian was a full head taller and just as broad. Kurtz followed suit.

“I see you came very well prepared.” Kenta stood in awe of the amount of hardware lying on the floor. Open equipment boxes revealed more weapons, armor, and combat gear than he had ever seen in one location before.

“We have equipment for you as well,” Kurtz said. “Plenty of weapons for everyone.”

“I think we may even have a rocket launcher somewhere,” added Aleks. “If you’re into that sort of thing.”

“Are they joking?” Kenta asked Saneh.

“Nope, deadly serious.” She smiled. “Gentlemen, do we have a KRISS? I think it might suit Kenta’s fighting style.”

“I have one here.” Aleks opened one of the equipment trunks and pulled out the chunky submachine gun, offering it to Kenta. “You like it, it’s yours.”

Kenta took the weapon and weighed it in his hands. It was heavy and solid, more like his revolver than the lightweight pistol Bishop had given him. “I think we are going to get along very well.” He grinned.

Bishop folded his arms across his chest. “Just like that, you’re going to throw away the pistol I gave you?” he joked.

“No, Agent Wilson, I like the gun you gave me. It’s just…” He looked down at the KRISS. “This feels more like a man’s weapon.”

They all laughed.

“Listen, Kenta, since you’re working so closely with us, I think we can drop the bullshit. Our real names aren’t Brian and Sarah. They’re Bishop and Saneh.”

“Ah, you travel under different names. That is not so unusual. The Yamaguchi do that from time to time.”

“Yeah, well, you’re part of the team now.”

“It is a great honor, Bishop. So, can I ask you if you are really FBI? These guns, they are very high tech, even for policemen.”

“Let’s just say we come from a special unit.”

Kenta nodded. “Well, policemen or not, now we have the information and the gear. I think it is time we start killing Mori-Kai.”

Bishop held up the piece of paper that Kenta had given him. “So talk us through what happened at the girlie bar. Who is this guy and how do we get to him?”

“There is not much to tell. My informant told me he had a regular who bragged about raping Western women. Slaves, he called them. His name was Takeshi, I met him at the bar, we drank, he talked, and now I have his address.” Kenta sat down on a spare weapons trunk.

“And he uses the Mori-Kai services?” asked Saneh.

“I am unaware of anyone else offering these services.”

“Do you think he would know where they keep the girls?” Saneh continued.

“No, he said the girls are brought to him. It is the same with the girls that work with my people. Our drivers take them to their clients. This would be no different.”

“Except the girls have been kidnapped and are being held against their will,” said Saneh. “A fairly significant point of difference.” She finished with the bolt and slid it back into the weapon’s body. “So we’ve got, one: a guy who uses the girls; two: his home address; and three: the bar he drinks at.”

“This is correct. We also know he speaks English.”

Bishop went to speak but Saneh continued. “I say we get our people to work up a target pack on the residence and we plan a little break-and-enter op. Then have our boy put a call out for girls, leave them cold at the door, and follow them home.”

“Sounds like a good plan to me,” said Bishop.

Kurtz and Aleks nodded in agreement.

“It’s a good start. We can add the detail once we have more information on the building,” concluded Saneh as she finished assembling her Tavor. “In the meantime, I’m going to get some sleep.” She put the weapon back in her trunk and headed up the stairs. “Don’t stay up late, boys.” She turned around and pointed at Kenta. “And no more drinking!”

Kenta gave Bishop a questioning look.

“Hey, you’re on your own, champ. I wouldn’t mess with her and my recommendation is that you don’t either.” Bishop started packing his own gear.

Aleks got up from his trunk and walked over to Kenta. “If you want, I can show you how to use the KRISS. Maybe later we can go through some basic drills.”

“I would be grateful,” said Kenta.

“Then when everyone else is gone we can have a quick nightc
ap. I have some excellent vodka in my trunk.” Aleks gave a wink.

Kenta grinned. “Just one, though. I wouldn’t want to upset the boss.”

Both men laughed.

“Can you see?” Aleks asked as he tapped on the mirrored lens that covered Kenta’s eyes. They were both wearing the sophisticated battle helmets and assault armor that PRIMAL operatives wore on high-threat missions. He’d been training Kenta for most of the day, and now they were inside a Yamaguchi-gumi warehouse down by the Kobe docks, preparing for live firing at night.

“It is very dark,” said Kenta as he turned his head left and right. “But that is not unusual, considering you turned the lights off.” His voice sounded muffled and metallic.

“Wait a second, comrade.” Aleks reached under the jawline of the armored faceplate and pressed a small button.

Inside the helmet the central processor activated and Kenta’s previously black lenses instantly turned into a sharp green image. “This is unbelievable!” He lifted his hand up in front of his face. He could make out intricate detail as the state-of-the-art sensors built into the helmet projected the image inside his visor.

“It gets better,” Aleks’s voice came through clearly on the integrated communications system. He pressed another button and toggled from infrared into fused mode.

Kenta exhaled sharply as a thermal image was layered over the green. Now he could make out the heat signature of his instructor. “Unbelievable,” he said again.

“Now activate the laser on your gun like I showed you.”

Kenta toggled the rubber switch with his thumb and the laser appeared. “So I just put the dot on the target and pull the trigger?”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t know things like this even existed.”

“Most people don’t. Remember that the button under the laser is your radio switch. If you press it you transmit and your comrades can hear, just like I am now.”

Kenta nodded and pressed the button. “Very useful; you don’t have to take your hands off the gun. I like that!”

“
Da
.”

“But I’m not sure about this body armor. It feels too light. Wouldn’t the bullets go straight through?” He thumped his fist against his black, nylon-covered exoskeleton.

Aleks had fitted Kenta out with an older set of his carbon-nanotube armor. It was not as light as his latest set but it still only weighed a few pounds.

“No bullet will get through.” Aleks slipped out a fighting knife and poked the chest plate with it. “But if you get hit it can still hurt like being kicked by a fucking elephant.”

“I will take your word for it.” Kenta’s laser was dashing round the walls of the warehouse like a schizophrenic firefly. “So, can we shoot now?”

“Do you think it’s clear outside?”

“Ever since they opened the new terminal no one comes here. We’ll be fine.”

Aleks grabbed a bag filled with plastic bottles and followed Kenta through a side door.

The wharf was completely empty. The long concrete structure had grass growing in the cracks and rubbish scattered across it.

Kenta and Aleks walked to the water’s edge. There was no exterior lighting and no moon, but despite the darkness they could both see perfectly through their helmets. The city lights in the distance provided enough ambient light for the helmet’s sensors.

Aleks tossed the bottles into the water. “OK, like we practiced.”

Kenta took a magazine from one of his pouches, inserted it into the submachine gun, and jerked the cocking handle rearward. He activated the laser and lined it up on one of the floating bottles. The KRISS spat slugs through the suppressor, hammering into the plastic. He fired long bursts from the hip, quickly emptying the thirty-round magazine.

“You’re pretty good at this.” Only one target remained unscathed.

“I’m looking forward to showing it to my Mori-Kai friends,” Kenta said as he reloaded. “L
ast time they had an advantage. The next time they will not be so lucky.”

“They’ll get what they deserve. Now hurry up and finish or we’ll miss the mission briefing.”

Kenta ripped off another long burst that shredded the last bottle. Slowly it sank to the depths of Kobe harbor.