PRIMAL Fury (The PRIMAL Series) (46 page)

“Was that it?” Bishop asked.

“No, I’m solving the problem now.” He activated the iPRIMAL on his wrist and tapped at the screen with a gloved finger.

“Do we need to get Aleks to move and suppress?” Bishop asked.

“No.” Kurtz hit a button transmitting his iPRIMAL screen to the heads-up display in his helmet.

Back down the hill at their vehicles, the green light on the mortar tube he had left behind changed to red. There was a flash of flame and a rocket shot out of the tube into the sky.

It fired up to five thousand feet in a matter of seconds. Then a pair of wings popped out and it glided silently through the night sky.

Guiding the glide bomb via its nose camera, Kurtz sent it into a dive. It gathered speed, finally detonating two feet above the second-floor balcony. Four pounds of high explosives turned the three Mori-Kai gunmen into vaporized flesh, nylon, and steel.

“Holy shit balls.” Bishop hugged the ground as bits of the Mori-Kai landed on him. “Aleks, hit the front of the building with suppressing fire. We’re going to breach from our side.”

“Acknowledged.” Aleks’s Mk48 opened up. Rounds ricocheted off the armored glass and blasted chunks out of the concrete.

Kurtz sprinted toward the down ramp to where Saneh was taking cover. “You just going to lie there all day?” he commented as he passed Bishop. Both of them joined Saneh at the garage door.

“What now?” she asked. “Clearly we’re not getting in through the windows.”

“That armor’s too thick for blasters,” Bishop said, quoting one of his favorite movies. “Can we breach this?” He rapped his gloved knuckles against the roller door.

“
Ja
.” Kurtz shrugged off his pack and pulled out a roll of cutting charge. He cut the angled explosive into four lengths, tore off the adhesive backing, and stuck them to the door in a rectangular shape. “If there isn’t a door, make your own.”

They faced away as the explosives detonated, their CAT suits protecting them from the blast. The charge cut a perfect rectangle out of the steel roller door. Saneh pitched a flashbang through the hole, waited for it to detonate, then dived through. A moment later came her transmission:

“All clear. We’ve gained entry.”

CHAPTER 84

“Who are these demons?” breathed the
oyabun
, pointing at his computer screen.

Masateru glanced at the monitor, the CCTV feeds showing a glimpse of their adversary, a grainy shot of two armored men carrying machine guns. With a chill he recognized the black suits and futuristic helmets: the same men who had attacked the castle in Hungary.

The Mori-Kai lieutenant looked out the office window and saw only darkness; most of the floodlights had been destroyed. He flinched as another volley of rounds ricocheted off the armored glass.

“Ryu, report,” he spoke into his handheld radio. The handset returned nothing but static. “Useless piece of shit.” He flung it across the room, unaware that his communications were being jammed.

“Who the hell are they?” the
oyabun
asked again.

“I don’t fucking know!” Masateru snapped. He threw open the doors to the study. There were four Kissaki waiting in the corridor. “You two,” he pointed to the closest men. “If anyone tries to get through these doors I want you to kill them. I’ve sent for the helicopter. Once it arrives take the
oyabun
to the helipad.”

“Yes,
waka-gashira
.” They moved into the study.

“Give me a gun,” Masateru asked one of the others. The Kissaki took a Sig Sauer from his holster and handed it over.

“Where are you going?” the
oyabun
demanded.

“I’m going to get Karla and Ryu. I’ll meet you on the rooftop.”

Bishop led his team after Saneh into the underground garage. They passed four parked SUVs, which he recognized as the same bullet-riddled vehicles he had shot outside the warehouse near the casino.

“Aleks, update?”

“Nothing to report. I’m not even scratching the glass,” Aleks replied. “I can’t see any Mori-Kai, and Kenta hasn’t gotten a shot off yet.”

Bishop grinned. He could imagine the heavily tattooed Japanese wanting to charge into the battle.

“Move down to the garage, meet up with us on the ground floor.”

“OK.”

Bishop stopped behind an SUV with a shattered rear window. He reached in and unlatched the rear gate, dropping it down so he could see into the trunk. His iPRIMAL was there, lodged in the corner with the remnants of the rear windshield. He dropped it into a pouch.

“We ready for the lights to go off?” Kurtz was standing next to the building’s power board.

“Yeah, I always prefer to do it in the dark.”

Saneh rolled her eyes.

Kurtz dropped the master switch with a clunk, plunging the building into darkness. Seconds later the emergency lighting flickered on, bathing the garage in a faint glow. Bishop led them up the stairs and into the foyer.

He swept the dimly lit room. It was empty.

“Where is everyone?” said Saneh. Rooms led off to each side and the stairs continued up to the first floor.

Bishop checked the entrance. The heavy doors were locked. “Whoever built this place knew what they were doing. It’s a fortress.” He moved to the stairs and was peering up them when automatic gunfire ripped into the foyer from one of the side rooms.

Saneh snapped her Tavor up and returned fire through the wall. Kurtz did the same. More bullets came from the other side and Kurtz collapsed, landing on his back.

“Stay where you are!” Bishop yelled from the stairs.

“I can get to him.” Saneh fired her weapon again.

More rounds slapped into the wall a foot above Kurtz’s motionless body.

“Kurtz, you OK?” Bishop checked his iPRIMAL. The German’s icon was still green, his heart was beating. “Saneh, he’s out cold. Can you see how badly he’s injured?”

“There isn’t any blood.”

More gunfire snapped through the foyer. The Mori-Kai in the other room were shooting blindly, firing through the walls and doorway at even the slightest noise.

A long machine-gun burst announced Aleks’s arrival up the stairs from the garage. “Move out of the way.” Aleks reached Saneh and pushed her gently to one side.

His Mk48 fired again, blowing fist-size chunks out of the wall, momentarily suppressing the Mori-Kai gunfire. Kenta dashed forward and grabbed Kurtz by the loop on the back of his armor, dragging him back into the safety of the stairs. Saneh followed and started inspecting Kurtz for wounds.

Aleks continued firing from the hip, burst after burst from the belt-fed machine gun. Bishop moved in beside him, lobbing a grenade into the next room. There was a muffled explosion and Aleks rushed through the doorway and fired two short bursts. “Two KIA,” he reported. “Room clear.”

Bishop turned back and movement at the top of the stairs caught his eye. He fired his Tavor instinctively and the black-clad Kissaki stumbled backward, disappearing from view. “Aleks, cover the stairwell. Kenta, you stay with me. Saneh, how’s Kurtz?”

“He’s still out,” reported Saneh. “His helmet took the blow.”

“Roger. Look after him and let me know when he comes to.” Bishop led Kenta to the other side of the foyer, moving slowly and deliberately, assault rifle in shoulder. The door to the next room was open and a makeshift barricade made out of furniture could be seen at the rear of the room. They moved up on the doorway.

“Just like we practiced,” Bishop whispered, then entered smoothly through the doorway.

They found themselves in what looked like a waiting room, but the desk, chairs, and coffee table were piled together in a barricade. The furniture was shot up and splintered. Bishop followed a fresh blood trail to the back of the room where solid double doors barred their way. “Looks like someone important usually works in here.”

“The mayor?” Kenta asked.

“That would be my guess.”

Kenta reached for the door handle.

“No.” Bishop grabbed his wrist. “This calls for some bang.”

He stuck the compact breaching charge in the middle of the two doors. They took cover on either side.

The charge blew the doors wide open. In the enclosed space the explosion was deafening but the PRIMAL team’s assault suits protected them from the overpressure and flying debris. Kenta rushed forward, firing his KRISS full auto as he charged into the room. The two Kissaki fired at the same time. Their rounds pelted the armored juggernaut while his .45 slugs ripped through the men, sending their weapons clattering to the ground.

“Over there.” Kenta pointed to the opposite corner of the room, where a thermal signature was crouched behind a couch. He reloaded his KRISS and dragged the man out from behind the furniture.

Bishop activated the light on his helmet and stood over their captive. The man matched the images they had already pulled on Nishimuru, the mayor of Himeji. He was middle-aged with shoulder-length gray hair and a moustache.

“Who are you?” Nishimuru asked in accented English, shielding his eyes from the bright LEDs on Bishop’s helmet.

“I’ll ask the fucking questions.” Bishop’s voice sounded metallic and alien through the vents of his mask.

The
oyabun
started to tremble, the masked figure standing above him clearly like nothing he had ever encountered. “Whatever the Yamaguchi are paying you I will double it, triple it. Name your price.”

“You think this is about money?”

“The girl, you want the girl. She’s safe, she’s upstairs. You can have her, take her.”

Kenta spoke to the man in Japanese. The facial expression of the
oyabun
changed as he realized the other helmeted figure was Yakuza. He spat onto the floor and uttered what sounded like a curse.

“What’s he saying?” Bishop asked.

Kenta raised his pistol and fired. The bullet hit the Mori-Kai boss in the chest. He remained upright for a moment, a surprised look on his face, then tumbled sideways.

“He called me a dog,” Kenta grunted before also collapsing to the floor.

“Shit!” Bishop leaped to his side. “Kenta, mate, talk to me, will ya?” He removed the man’s helmet. Kenta’s face was pale and waxen; blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.

“Kenta’s down, Kenta’s down,” he broadcast as he removed the Yamaguchi’s chest armor. He used his combat shears to slice through the man’s shirt, revealing a barrel chest covered in tattoos. “Shit,” he whispered. Kenta had been hit twice: One round had glanced off the armor, leaving a nasty bruise; the second had missed the armor and entered under the armpit, burrowing into his chest cavity. “Guys, I’m gonna need some help here.”

Back in the foyer, Saneh had removed Kurtz’s damaged helmet. “You go, Aleks, I’ll look after Kurtz and cover the stairs.” Aleks didn’t need to be told twice. He sprinted off in the direction of the others.

Kurtz’s blue eyes snapped open. “What happened?”

“You took a round to the face. Just take it easy for a minute.” Saneh had her Tavor aimed up the stairs.

“Where are the others?” Kurtz gave a groan as he got back up to his feet. He picked up and examined his helmet. The polycarbonate reflective face shield had a deep gouge in it.

“They cleared the rest of the floor. Kenta’s been hit.”

“How bad?” Kurtz tried the helmet on.

“It’s bad.”

He bashed the side of the helmet with his fist and then tore it off, throwing it to the ground. He cocked his head to one side. “Can you hear that?”

“What?”

He grabbed his Tavor and started up the stairs. “There’s a helicopter coming. We’ve got to clear the rest of the building before they get away.”

“No, Kurtz, wait for the—”

An assault rifle barked from the second level. Saneh shook her head and followed him.