PRIMAL Reckoning (Book 1 in the Redemption Trilogy, the PRIMAL Series Book 5) (31 page)

Mitch gripped
his machine gun and eyed them suspiciously.

Bishop approached
as a short man in a grey suit stepped out. “Mr. Ramirez, I didn’t think you
were going to come.”

The
Sinaloa kingpin’s bushy moustache lifted as he gave a broad smile. “How could I
not? Your message was so intriguing.” He marveled at the sheer scale of the
destruction that had been wrought on the mine. Almost every building had been
flattened and black smoke still billowed from the fuel dump. “You certainly
have been busy.”

Bishop
nodded. “All in a day’s work.” As he stepped forward, one of the men made to
stop him.

Ramirez
pushed past his bodyguards. “You know, you killed Cardenas, the head of the
Chaquetas Negras Cartel.”

“Yeah,
his boys found themselves a bit outgunned.”

Ramirez’s
eyes narrowed. “Who are you people? You come down here and destroy the
Chaquetas. You blow up their drug warehouse, you burn their mine to the
ground.”

“I guess
you might call us justice. We’re leaving these people under your protection,
Ramirez. The gold from this mine belongs to them. The land belongs to them.
Families will be compensated, lives rebuilt, and the miners won’t be allowed
back. That clear?”

The
Sinaloa boss nodded. “It will be as you say. You have my word.”

“Good,
because we’ll be watching, and if I have to come back, I’ll bring more than
just two of my buddies.”

Bishop
turned and walked to the Ford Bronco. Mitch had already packed the last of
their gear from the safe house.

“I could
really use men like you,” yelled Ramirez. “Together we could shut down the Juarez
cartel. You would make a lot of money.”

“Just
keep your word, and pray you don’t see us again.” He climbed into the truck and
waited for Mitch and Mirza to join him. He started the engine and they drove up
the road and out the gate.

“Why do I
get the feeling this isn’t over?” said Mitch as they headed down the winding
mountain road.

“Because
it isn’t. We still need to find Pershing and shut down GE for good. We’ll cache
the gear in the desert and head back to El Paso. I’m thinking a steak at a
restaurant, and a soft bed in a hotel. We can do our full debriefing with the Bunker
tomorrow.”

“So
you’ve already back-briefed them on what happened at the mine?” Mirza asked.

“Ummm. I
just let them know we don’t need the CAT anymore.”

"You
didn't tell them about our plan did you?” said Mirza.

“Well,
not exactly. I mean, they knew we were going to do a recce. I just didn’t…”

Mitch
shook his head. “You’re out of control.”

“Hey, it
was a good plan. We played the cards we were dealt and it worked out for the
best.”

“Yeah,
well now I’m pretty keen to play my hand with that bell-end, Pershing,” said
Mitch.

“Me too,”
added Mirza.

“That
makes three of us.”

CHAPTER
36

EL PASO, TEXAS

Christina placed her few belongings into
a plastic bag, and walked out of the hospital. It was late afternoon and she
had spent the better part of the day waiting for the doctors to approve her
release. Finally, a handsome young resident had handed her a box of antibiotics
and signed the necessary document. It was not until she looked at the box on
her way out that she realized he’d scribbled his phone number on it.

She
squinted as she stepped out into the sunshine.

“Where do
you think you’re going, miss?”

There he
was, leaning against a signpost with his battered Yankees cap pulled low.
“Aden!” She blushed as she realized how excited she sounded.

“There’s
a diner around the corner. You mind if I buy you a coffee?”

She
hugged him. “Sure thing.”

“What was
the last thing you remembered?” he asked as they walked.

“You
saving my life. I’ve got a faint memory of another man being there. Dark,
angular features, some kind of doctor.”

He
chuckled. “A doctor, he’ll like that.”

“So who
was he?”

“A friend
from work.”

“From the
UN?”

They
arrived at the diner and sat at the only curbside table.

“Yeah. I
told him where we were going and when I missed a check-in he got in contact
with Emilio.”

“OK. And
Roberto?” she asked hesitantly.

Aden took
off his hat and rubbed at his temples. She noticed the flecks of grey and the
bags under his eyes.

“We
rescued him yesterday. He sends his regards. Wanted me to tell you that you’re
welcome to visit when things settle down.”

“What,
how?” Relief washed over her face.

A
waitress interrupted them and he ordered a burger and a shake. Christina ordered
a coffee.

When the
waitress was gone she leaned across the table. “How did you save him?”

“With the
help of some friends.” Bishop reached into the pocket of his jacket and tossed
something on the table. It landed with a thud.

Christina
did not believe her eyes. It was a solid lump of gold the length of her thumb.
“Where did you get this?”

“The
mine’s back in the hands of the rightful owners.”

“You mean
you kicked out RED and the cartel?”

He
winked. “Well, I’d like to take all the credit but the truth is Emilio and his
guys did the heavy lifting.” He filled her in on some of the details until
their order arrived. Christina sipped her latte as she watched Bishop wolf into
his burger.

“You
haven’t told me the whole story, have you?”.

He
neglected his food for a moment to pass her a memory stick. “I took the liberty
of including photos and a few emails on here. You might find them interesting.”
He used a napkin to wipe ketchup from his chin. “The only caveat is you can’t
release the story till I give you the OK. The guys behind the mine are serious
players and I’m not done with them yet. Which brings me to another point.” He
took out his wallet, extracted a credit card, and handed it over. “This card
has thirty grand on it, a black account in the Cayman Islands. The pin number
is your birth date.” He took a long slurp from his shake. “I need you to
disappear till we wrap this up. You got anyone you can stay with?”

Christina
was expecting something like this. “Yeah, I’ve got friend in South Africa.
She’s a photographer with a wildlife film company.”

“OK,
good. I’ve arranged for a passport to be sent to a safe deposit box at LAX.” He
handed her a slip of paper. “Here are the details. My email’s there also if you
need to contact me.”

She took
it and gave a knowing smile. “Forgot your UN business cards again?”

 
“Yeah.”

“Am I
going to see you again?”

“Of
course. I love Africa; I’ll come visit you when this is all done.”

She
smiled. “You should bring Saneh.”

He looked
away and she regretted the comment. “Hey, I’m sorry.”

“It’s OK,
I’m good.” He waved for the bill. “Want to share a cab to the airport?”

“I
haven’t booked a flight.”

He
glanced at his watch. “If you want it, there’s a business class seat booked in
your name on the seventeen hundred to LAX.”

She
laughed. “You think of everything.”

“I try.”
He paused. “Hey, Christina, when you write this, I’d really appreciate if you
don’t mention me, or any of my friends. We’ll lose our jobs if we’re
implicated. Not to mention the fact we’ve made ourselves some powerful
enemies.”

“I can do
better than that. I’ll send you a draft before it goes to print. But, you have
to promise to come to Africa.”

He
reached out and shook her hand. “It’s a deal.”

She held
his hand and smiled. “Thank you so much for everything you’ve done..For saving
my life, and for helping Roberto.”

He looked
down at the remains of his burger and mumbled, “Any man would have done the
same.”

“I’m not
sure if she knows it, but Saneh is a very lucky woman.”

Bishop
ignored the comment. “You ready to go?”

***

Less than two
miles from Bishop and Christina, Terrance Howard knocked back his fifth can of
energy drink for the day. All morning he’d been unable to reach Pershing, he
had no UAV support, and the caffeine coursing through his body wasn’t helping
his anxiety.

“Terry, I’ve
got a
satellite image
!” yelled Ben.

“Get it up on
the big screen.”

It took the
analyst a few seconds to transfer the high-resolution shot. When it appeared on
the main screen Howard nearly had a heart attack. The mine’s accommodation and
administrative buildings appeared to be flattened. The entire facility was
destroyed. The mining infrastructure was on fire with thick black smoke
trailing into the desert.

“Whoa, that’s
not good,” said Ben.

“No shit!” He
grabbed the phone on his desk and dialed Pershing, for the sixth time.

It rang once
before being answered. “What?”

“I’m looking
at the mine. Dude, it’s fucked up!”

“You’re pretty
damn observant. Aden and his buddies hit us hard.”

“You OK?”

“What the fuck
do you think, Howard? Billions of dollars have just gone up in smoke and I’ve
been left holding my dick.”

Howard swallowed.

“You better
have called me with answers, because if I go down for this, I’m dragging you
under with me.”

“Look, um…”

“I thought as
much. You’ve got three-fifths of fuck all haven’t you?” He paused. “You find me
Aden or it’s all going to come out in the wash and you’ll end up in a supermax
sharing a cell with an angry ass-fucker called Maurice.” Pershing terminated
the call.

Howard stared
at the satellite image as he contemplated the severity of the situation.

Ben clicked to
another shot. A different angle revealed a row of huge dump trucks, all on
fire. “So, what the hell happened out there?”

“Objective
Yankee is what happened. We need to put everything we’ve got into an intel
pack. This needs to go to the top.”

***

Bishop saw Christina off at El Paso International,
then took a cab to Horizon airport. Ten minutes out of town, the privately
owned airport was the preferred location for private jets.

He walked across the tarmac to where the
PRIMAL Gulfstream was parked. The aircraft’s tail number had once again been
changed. More of Chua’s counter-intel procedures. He walked up the stairs and
stuck his head into the cockpit. “Where we off to, fellas?”

“Jamaica,
mon,” said Mitch in his best rasta accent.

“Jamaica?”

Mirza
glanced back from the co-pilot’s seat. “Vance’s orders. He’s redirected us
there to meet with Chua.”

Mitch
finished his preflight checks and started the turbofans. The whine of the
powerful engines filled the cabin. Bishop went back and secured the door before
returning. “So, anyone going to tell me what the hell is going on?”

Mirza
shrugged. “We don’t know much more than that. Got a message from the Bunker
directing us to Norman Manley airport in Jamaica. Chua and a few others are
already in location. They’re establishing a forward operating base. The CAT is
still on the island with the rest of the team. Once we’re airborne I’ll check
in and find out more.”

 
“Roger.” Bishop moved back to the cabin
and strapped himself in as they taxied out onto the runway. He yawned as the
plush leather seat embraced him. Within seconds he was dozing, head back, mouth
open. He stayed that way as the turbines screamed and the jet rocketed down the
runway. They were at cruising altitude when a gentle shake woke him.

“You’re
drooling on my leather seats,” said Mitch.

“We there
yet?” Bishop frowned as he spotted Mirza sitting in the chair opposite reading
the Gulfstream’s flight manual. “Um, who’s flying the jet?”

“Autopilot,
mate. We’re about five minutes from beginning our descent.” Bishop glanced at
his watch. He’d been asleep for nearly an hour and a half. “I thought we were
going to check in with Chua?”

“He
called already. Going to brief us once we hit the ground. In the meantime, if
you can please return your seat to the upright position, raise your window shade,
reach down and grab your panties, because Mirza is putting this bird on the
ground. One way or another.”

Mirza
gave him a cheesy grin and thumbs-up. He followed Mitch back into the cockpit.

“Hey,
wait a minute. Mirza, he’s only just started learning to fly. This is a bloody
expensive jet!” Bishop was about to unbuckle his seat belt when the jet banked
hard throwing him against the arm of the leather recliner. “You ball-bags.” He
laughed as he wrenched his belt tight.

With only
a few abrupt corrections the landing was smooth and they taxied toward a hangar
nestled in a freight handling area. Bishop stared out the window at the rusted
iron walls as the jet came to a gentle halt. The cockpit door opened and Mirza
appeared wearing a broad smile. “Very nicely done,” Bishop said as he opened
the door and lowered the stairs.

“I’ve got
a good instructor.”

“Steady
on, you’ll give the pommy bastard a big head.”

Mitch
appeared wearing a baseball cap proclaiming ‘WORLD’S BEST PILOT’.

Bishop
shook his head as he walked down the steps. “Too late.”

They
knocked on a side door and a full minute passed before a lock was drawn and
PRIMAL’s slightly-built intelligence chief greeted them. “Welcome to Forward
Operating Base Kingston. Come on in.”

“Not
quite five-star is it?” Bishop said as they entered the old hangar. Light
streamed in through rusted holes in the curved tin roof. The air was heavy with
an earthy stench that reminded him of mushrooms.

“No, but
it’ll do. I’ll give you the tour.” Chua took them across the empty hangar floor
to the back, which was jam-packed with Pelican cases, crates, and black bags.
To the side was a line of stretchers and bedding. In a small corner office they
found Flash. Chua’s offsider was connecting a network of laptops.

“I can’t
believe Vance let you off the island.”

Flash
flipped him the bird. “Good to see you too, dick-lips.”

He sat on
a desk. “So you guys going to bring me up to speed?”

Chua sat
on his metal chair. “There’s a detailed team briefing at 2100 but I’ll give you
a quick heads-up. We’ve decrypted the emails Flash lifted from GE and we’ve
uncovered some pretty heavy stuff. They’re essentially the action arm for
Manhattan Ventures and Investments. MVI raise capital and invest in highly
speculative, unethical ventures. They send in GE to do the groundwork and
maximize profit through force. Essentially they’re the opposite of Tariq and GE
is their version of PRIMAL.”

“Making
Pershing my ultimate nemesis.”

Chua
nodded. “Yep, and we haven’t even touched the sides of what these guys are up
to. We know they’ve also got CIA black contracts, but those are compartmented
from the MVI side of things. As for MVI, well they’ve just finished
establishing a rare-earth mine in DRC, and we’ve uncovered a new operation down
in Venezuela.”

“Well, we
can scratch their Mexican aspirations.”

“Good
work; both Vance and Tariq wanted me to pass on their thanks. You’ll be happy
to know they’ve made it our top priority to bring the entire organization
down.”

Bishop
got up from the desk. “These fuckers have tried to kill me twice. There won’t
be a third. I’ll see you at the briefing.” Leaving the office, he heard a voice
that made his heart lurch.