PRIMAL Inception (8 page)

CHAPTER 10

Zahir scooped the girl’s clothes off the floor, kicked open the door, and tossed them down the corridor. "Now get the fuck out." He slapped her bottom as she fled the room. Zipping up his pants, he walked down the stairs to his living room. Kreshnik and Barishna were waiting on the couch.

He sat across from them and poured a coffee. "What do you two want?"

Kreshnik spoke first. "Iceman’s still alive."

He squinted. "What the fuck are you talking about?" He turned to Barishna. "Did you lead him into the ambush, cripple?"

The former-quartermaster nodded frantically.

"Then how the hell is he still alive?"

"KFOR soldiers arrived. It wasn't our fault."

"And the men?"

Kreshnik licked his lips. "All dead."

Zahir threw his cup at the wall. It shattered in a spray of coffee. "You fucking idiots! This could blow the whole campaign."

"There’s no link to you, boss. They will think that Barishna organized the hit."

"You're stupider than I thought," he sneered. "The CIA’s been sniffing around my operations then this idiot leads one of their agents into an ambush. Of course, he's going to think it was me. Who the fuck else would it be?"

Kreshnik and Barishna glanced at each other.

"And what’s he going to do now, huh? Sit around and wish me good luck in the elections? No! That mad bastard will hunt me down and kill me."

"Not if we kill him first," said Barishna.

Zahir punched the couch. "That was the FUCKING PLAN!"

Kreshnik gave Barishna a frigid stare. "We still need to move ahead with our plans, boss. The CIA’s a sideshow. When we get Daçi out of the way, there won’t be anyone else to lead Kosovo."

Zahir sighed and slouched into the sofa. His second-in-command was right. They needed to deal with Daçi. "The attack tomorrow. Is everything in place?"

Barishna nodded. "The girls are at the factory. My men will dump them back at Mitrovica later tonight. The bomb is at the Serbian farm near Istog.”

“Murat will move it in the morning,” Kreshnik added.

Zahir cracked his knuckles. “Good, those Serb dogs in Mitrovica are going to wish they’d left when they had the chance. Daçi’s people will burn their homes and rape their daughters.” He poured coffee into a new cup. “Tomorrow is crucial to my campaign. I’m meeting the officials from the OSCE here.” He placed the cup down and stabbed his finger at Kreshnik. “That means Daçi is up to you. If you mess it up, you better find a deep hole to hide in.” He pointed at Barishna. “I want you to start moving the weapons from the factory to the other warehouse. Those CIA dogs have been there before, they might go back. Do it tonight."

“Yes, boss.”

Zahir stood and placed a hand on his chest. "On Tuesday, I want to go to Daçi’s home town. His people will gather around me and we’ll mourn a great leader. I will say some kind words and tell them we will hit back at the Serbs. His people will become my people and Kosovo will have a new leader. That's if you two idiots don't fuck it up."

***

Barishna shivered as he stood under the factory’s floodlights and watched his men load crates into a truck. He’d wanted to get the work done earlier but Zahir had insisted they move them under the cover of darkness. That was all well and good for him tucked up in his bed with a whore.

He contemplated climbing into the back of his SUV with the girls. Hell, it was going to be their last night alive and they were already drugged. As he walked to the vehicle his phone rang. "Hello?"

"Hello, Barishna."

He instantly recognized the American accent. A shiver raced up his spine. "Ah… Mr. Iceman, I hope you are well."

"I'm as good as can be expected."

He swallowed. "I hope my contact was able to answer all your questions regarding Zahir."

"Yes, the meet was very informative. I was able to deduce exactly who was working for who."

"I didn't–"

"Shut it and listen! You and I are going to be seeing each other very soon. You cooperate now and it might go easier on you."

"You don't scare me. If you want to talk to someone go see Zahir." He terminated the call as he spun on his heel. "Hurry up and get that gear loaded!"

All three floodlights exploded, plunging the parking lot into darkness. He panicked and hobbled into the factory as fast as his bad leg would carry him. "We're under attack!"

***

Ice lay alongside Vance on the hill overlooking the factory. He watched through his
night vision monocular
as four SAS troopers appeared out of the trees. Gaz and his team were now in full combat rig. They wore body armor over their civilian clothes, helmets mounted with night vision goggles, and carried suppressed weapons.

He and Vance had been in position for hours. They had inserted with Mitch and a SAS sniper just after midnight. A couple of hours later, they saw Barishna arrive with his men and trucks. The SAS assault force had responded rapidly. Moving from their van, through the forest, they had waited for the sniper to knock out the lights before closing in on the factory.

An AK barked as one of Barishna’s men fired into the night. He took a volley of 5.56mm to the chest and died gripping the trigger.

Ice watched as Barishna disappeared into the factory with a couple of his men.

The four-man SAS team stacked next to the open front door. A distraction grenade flashed and they flowed in. Ice tracked their movement by the continued detonation of grenades. Minutes passed as they worked from the ground floor up. Then a trooper appeared at the loading dock. The IR laser on his rifle flashed three times.

Mitch and the SAS sniper rose to their feet. “That’s us. You yanks coming?”

“Yep.” Ice followed them down the hill. Vance brought up the rear. They met the trooper at the entrance.

“Morning, chaps. We’ve got a lovely little spread on for you today. Four dead shooters, two drugged girls in the black SUV, a shit load of swag, and the boss has got that wanker you’re looking for upstairs.”

“Two girls?” said Ice.

“Yeah, I think they’re local lasses. Not hookers or anything like that. Might be the girls that went missing up near Mitrovica.”

“We OK to go white light?” Ice asked.

‘Yeah, mate.”

He switched on his headlamp. The factory floor was exactly how Ice remembered it. The heavy machinery was still there. Brass casings were scattered across the floor. Except, now the bodies were Albanian mafia not Serbs.

“You hear anything about missing girls?” he asked Vance as they climbed the stairs.

“Yeah, it was in the morning briefing. Militants kidnapped two Albanian girls from Mitrovica.”

“Why would Barishna have them?” Then it clicked. “He’s trying to re-ignite the conflict.”

Vance grunted. “I bet my left ball Zahir’s behind it.”

The upper level had changed slightly. They passed through a heavy cage door and walked into a prison of sorts. There were mattresses strewn on the floor along with discarded items of clothing. The entire level smelled like urine.

As they walked down the corridor, Ice glanced inside one of the rooms. It was draped in plastic sheets with a stainless steel table in the middle. There was an ice machine in the corner and a stack of foam boxes against one wall. A makeshift surgery. “Sick bastards.”

At the end of the corridor, a SAS trooper waited. He gave them a nod. “Your man’s in here.”

Ice stepped through the doorway. Gaz was standing over the prisoner, his night vision tubes flipped up over his helmet. Barishna sat on a stained mattress, squinting into the powerful beam from the SAS operator’s flashlight.

“You mind if we have a moment alone?”

“No probs, mate.” Gaz closed the door as he left. Vance leaned against the wall and crossed his arms.

“You tried to kill me,” said Ice.

“No, it was Zahir who wants you dead, not me. I’ve always thought of you as a friend.” Barishna’s voice was more high-pitched than usual.

Ice turned off his headlamp and squatted so they were face to face. “You’re a liar. You telling me you had nothing to do with it? You telling me you’re not Zahir’s right hand man?”

The criminal nodded eagerly. “I just move the weapons.”

“Just weapons? No body parts, no girls?”

“No, none of that. Just weapons. I don’t even need the money. I work for Zahir because if I don’t, he will kill me.”

“So you don’t know what he’s up to?”

Barishna shook his head.

Ice cocked his head to one side. “Is that right? So you know nothing about the Albanian girls drugged in the back of your car?”

Barishna shook his head again. This time less enthusiastically.

He reached down and grabbed the lapels of Barishna’s jacket. Rage flowed through him and he hauled the little man to his feet. “You’re a goddamn liar.” Effortlessly he lifted the Albanian off the ground, twisting his fists to lock the jacket tight. Vance held the door open as he carried him out the room and strode into the plastic-sheeted surgery.

“Put me down. It hurts!”

He threw him onto the stainless steel table with a crash. “Oh, this’ll hurt alright.” He pinned the man’s throat with one hand, pulled a Gerber Covert knife from his rig and snapped it open.

Eyes wide, Barishna reached up and grabbed the hand clamped to his throat. “Stop, Stop,” he said hoarsely, choking.

Ice slipped the blade under the man’s shirt. Barishna screamed as the razor sharp edge sliced through the garment. It fell open from neck to waist exposing his pale bony body.

Ice smiled as he traced the tip of the blade along his flank. “This is where I’m going in, to get your liver.” He glanced over his shoulder at Vance who was watching in amusement. “I need a bucket of ice.”

“No, no, I’ll tell you everything,” Barishna gurgled.

Ice released the grip on his throat. “What’s that?”

“Zahir, he’s planning to assassinate the leader of the LDK, Daçi.”

“When, how?”

“In the morning. A car bomb outside his office. He’s making it look like the Serbs did it. Just like the shooting in Mitrovica.”

“Mitrovica?”

“Daçi’s town. Zahir’s boys have been causing trouble, but everyone thinks it’s the Serbs. He wants to step in as the strong man. Win votes.”

“You’re going to tell me everything you know.”

Barishna nodded. “I’ll trade you my life for his?”

“You want to kill him?”

“No, I want you to. I’ll tell you everything, but you have to promise to kill him. Otherwise, I’m a dead man and you may as well kill me now.”

Ice pretended to consider the appeal. He had every intention of killing Zahir, but did not need to tell Barishna that. He leaned in close. “It’s a deal. But, if you hold anything back,
I’m going to take your balls.”

***

The team gathered in the ground level of the factory. A map lay on top of one of the ammunition crates. It was marked with the locations Barishna had revealed. Ice had just finished using it to brief them on Zahir’s assassination plot.

"That's some heavy shit," said Mitch.

"This fella’s playing for keeps," added Gaz. "So what’s the plan?"

Ice looked at Mitch. “You dealt with
VBIEDs
before?”

“Does the Pope shit in the woods?”

"Alright, so we need to interdict the bomb before it gets to the city. Can’t trust KFOR to do it, the risk of compromise is too high.”

Gaz nodded. “True, if Zahir gets an inkling, he’ll hide the bomb, and then we’re buggered.” He inspected the markings on the map and pointed to a rural area to the west of the warehouse. “They’ve got it stashed here, yeah?”

“Yes, it’s a silver taxi. Being assembled at an abandoned Serbian farm on the other side of Brabonic. That’s an hour away from here, and the bomb’s due to be moved early this morning.” He nodded at his partner. “We might not make it in time, so Vance is going back to get one of the agency choppers in case we need to hit it on the move.”

"Do we need to contact Ibrahim Daçi and his crew? An ex-regiment bloke is running his protection detail. I can give him a call."

"Good drills. Keep it general for now. We’ll update them depending on how we go finding the
VBIED
." Ice glanced at his watch. "OK, it's 0500 now. We're cutting it fine. We need to roll.”

Vance pointed to the black SUV. “Are there keys in the truck?”

“Yeah, mate,” Gaz said. “But there’s also the two drugged-up girls.”

Vance picked up his carbine. “I’ll drop them at the US clinic. They’ll be kept under wraps until it’s over. Ice, when you’re in loc, confirm coords. I’ll get the bird there ASAP. Oh, and Gaz, don’t let him go charging into any gunfights.”