PRIMAL Reckoning (Book 1 in the Redemption Trilogy, the PRIMAL Series Book 5) (9 page)

CHAPTER 9

Bishop knocked on room 604 of the Waldorf
Astoria. Mirza opened the door and he entered the luxurious suite. “Wow, nice
digs. Pity you look like a tubby douche bag.”

His
partner was still dressed in his Indian businessman outfit complete with a
padded midriff and moustache. “At least I can take off my disguise, Aden.
You’re stuck with yours.”

“Ouch.” Bishop
slapped him on the shoulder. “You get a little more like me every moment we
spend together.” He grabbed a fist full of cashews from a bowl on the bar.

Mirza sat
on the bed. “I thought that’s what this trip was about. But then you make me
dress like a jerk while you hang out with your new girlfriend.”

“Hey, she’s
just a friend. That’s all.”

“Really?”

“Yeah
she’s attractive but it’s strictly professional. Look, I really appreciate you
helping out. We can do the touristy stuff when I get back from Mexico.”

Mirza’s
eyebrows shot up. “Mexico? Since when were you going to Mexico? Have you run
this past Vance?”

He shook
his head. “Nope. I’m on holidays and this is just a quick trip down to Mexico.
Think of it as my spring break.”

Mirza
looked him in the eye. “Really?”

“Yeah. Christina’s
going back to investigate further and take some photos. I’m going to make sure
she stays safe. That’s it. I’m not going looking for trouble, the opposite in
fact.”

“Do you
want me to come?”

“If you
like. It’s only going to be a day or two.”

“I’m
meeting a cousin for dinner tomorrow but I could reschedule if you need me.”

“It’s
fine. You do your dinner and check out a few of the museums. Then, when I get
back we can hit that Yankees game.”

“OK, but
for the record, I don’t think Mexico is a good idea. What’s more, no matter
what you say, this is going to look like you’re chasing a girl. Considering
what happened in Japan with Kurtz, that’s not going to go down well.”

Bishop
sat on a plush sofa and rested his feet on a coffee table. “I’m on holidays. As
long as I stay out of trouble, HQ isn’t going to care.”

“They’ll
see you’re down there on the tracker.”

“Yeah,
and if they ask what I’m doing, I’ll tell them. Now, what did you get from your
meeting with RED?”

“No new intel.
What I did get was a lunch meeting with a potential investor for the
Bougainville project.”

“Tell me
it’s Manhattan Ventures.”

Mirza
nodded. “You were right, they must be bank rolling the Mexican operation. I
spoke to Flash and he’s shown me how to bug their phones. If I get the chance we’ll
hack their emails and see what he can find.”

“And he’s
not going to tell Vance or Chua?”

“As long
as you’re not running around shooting people he’s happy for us to keep this low
key. But that might change when your iPRIMAL shows up south of the border.”

Bishop
nodded. “You know, not so long ago you would never have gone along with this.”

“Not so
long ago you couldn’t be trusted to go down to Mexico and not get into a
gunfight.”

“I guess
we’re all growing up.”

Mirza
stood and smoothed out his jacket. “I think hanging out with you has made me a
little reckless.”

“A bit of
recklessness is what keeps us sharp.”

“You just
stay out of trouble, Bish. I don’t want to have to come running down there to
pull you out of the fat.”

“You mean
the fire.”

“I mean
stay out of trouble. I’ve got to go; they’re sending a car to take me to lunch.”

***

The silver Mercedes S500 collected Mirza
from the hotel foyer and whisked him around the block to another high-rise. The
doorman directed him to an elevator and up to the top floor.

“Mr. Premiji?”
a security guard asked when the elevator doors opened.

“Yes.”
Mirza frowned as he was led down a corridor and through a set of doors into a stairwell;
there wasn’t a restaurant in sight.

“Mr.
Kestrel is waiting for you.” They climbed a short flight of stairs and the
guard pushed open a door to reveal a Eurocopter Squirrel idling on the helipad.

The big
Canadian waved at him from where he was sitting in the back.

Mirza
grasped the sides of his jacket and ducked beneath the rotor-blades. When he
climbed in, Kestrel handed him a headset as the pilot secured the hinged door.

“I hope
you don’t mind. The chairman of the investment company already had an
engagement so he extended us an invitation,” Kestrel said over the intercom.

He nodded
and strapped himself in. The engines screamed and the helicopter wobbled as it
lurched into the air.

“It’s
always a little rough but there’s no better way to see the city,” Kestrel
added.

They climbed
until they were a few hundred feet over the building. Then the pilot tipped the
nose slightly and they beat their way over the city toward the Hudson River.

Mirza
caught himself grinning. He looked over at Kestrel; the Canadian was doing the
same. “This is amazing.”

“Best
view in the city.”

“I
thought we were having lunch,” Mirza said as they swept past the Empire State
building.

“We are.
Just doing a little sight-seeing to work up our appetites. One of the directors
owns a boat and he’s going to take us along the coast to the chairman’s place.”

The
chopper banked and descended toward a marina perched on the far bank of the
river. A helipad floated among the rows of luxury cruisers and sailing boats.

They touched
down with a gentle bounce. The pilot leveled off the blades, got out, and
opened the passenger door.

Mirza
gave the man a nod and followed Kestrel off the helipad to the floating dock.
It bobbed lightly under the big man’s weight as he led them between the
luxurious vessels. Mirza counted over a dozen motor cruisers, each well over
sixty feet in length.

There was
a white-uniformed steward waiting on one of the pontoons with a tray of
champagne. Kestrel took one and headed up the gangplank. Mirza declined.

“Wow!”
Mirza mouthed as he approached one of the most impressive boats he had ever
seen. It looked like a cross between a stealth fighter and a massive 118-foot cabin
cruiser. The hull was a deep metallic green with raked angles and gaping air
intakes. As he walked up the gangplank and onto the smooth teak deck the
vessel’s superstructure came into view. Like the rest of the boat, it was
exquisite with jet-black glass encasing a sitting area that would not be out of
place in an exclusive nightclub.

“She’s
beautiful, isn’t she?” Kestrel said as they walked between the tables on the
aft deck into the main cabin.

“Magnificent.”
He looked around in awe. The central cabin of the vessel held another lounge
and a long table complete with leather chairs. It looked like the boardroom of
an architectural firm. At the far end was a control console with two men
standing at it.

The
taller one turned from the console. “You don’t want to know what she costs to
run.” He looked youthful with a clean-shaven, narrow face. Mirza guessed late
twenties to early thirties. His white linen shirt was open at the collar and
bright blue slacks were rolled up at the ankles.

He
offered a hand to Mirza. “Wes Chambers.” His face was partially hidden behind
black-rimmed sunglasses.

“Adir
Premiji. A pleasure to meet you. Are you the captain of this fine vessel?”

Wes
laughed. “No, dude, I’m the owner.”

“Wes is
one of the directors of the investment fund,” Kestrel explained.

“Make
yourself comfortable, gentlemen. We’re going to cast off and then the captain
here will take us for a short cruise along the coast.” He led them to the
lounge at the back of the cabin and waved over a white-clad crew member. “Frank,
make sure these men have plenty to drink and bring the ladies up.” Chambers returned
to the console as Mirza relaxed on one of the sofas in the cabin.

“Sir, can
I offer you a drink?” the waiter asked.

“No
thanks, I get a little seasick.”

Kestrel
sat across from him. “Not on this thing, you won’t. She cuts through the waves
like a knife and…” He smiled. “Wes always has good company.”

On cue,
two blondes appeared from below decks. Mirza almost blushed; their bikini tops
barely contained their enhanced breasts.

“Hello,
my name’s Natasha, and this is Paulina,” the tallest of the pair purred. Her sarong
parted as she sat next to him.

Mirza
felt the deck tremble lightly as they backed away from their mooring. The boat’s
engines thrummed as the waterjets pushed it out into the channel.

“Twin turbines,”
said Kestrel as he put his arm around the other girl. “Just like Paulina’s.” He
laughed and the two girls giggled.

Mirza barely
heard the faint whine of the gas turbines as they cruised down the Hudson
between Liberty and Governor’s island. They made small talk for a few minutes
before Wes strolled back to check on his guests. “You sure you don’t want a
drink?” He had a tumbler of whiskey in his hand.

“No, I’m
good for the moment.”

Natasha
put an arm on his thigh and squashed her breasts into his side. “It’s OK, I’ll take
care of him.”

Mirza
almost laughed, if only Bishop was here to see this. He felt the bow of the boat
rise as they swung into a wide bay and gathered speed. In a few minutes they
were a mile offshore and the skipper began a lazy turn, sweeping around until
they were heading east following the coast. The bow rose further out of the
water as they gathered even more speed. Despite the choppy seas the ride was
smooth, the deep V-shaped hull cutting through the waves with ease. He heard
the turbines now, they howled like banshees as they propelled the sleek vessel
at over fifty knots.

“Pretty
amazing, isn’t it.” said Kestrel. “She’ll do sixty five at full throttle.”

He
couldn’t contain his grin. “What’s it called? I’ve never been on anything like
this.” He’d pushed thirty-foot rigid inflatables to forty knots in similar conditions
and they bounced around like a bucking bronco.

“She’s a
Wally 118
. The only one of its type. Wes calls her
Nemesis
.”

Mirza
nodded. He would have to tell Mitch about the vessel. “So, where are we
heading?”

“The
Chairman has a holiday home in the Hamptons. At this speed it won’t take us
long to get there.”

Mirza sat
back and enjoyed the high-powered ride and the attention of the beautiful
blonde.

Forty
minutes later the skipper powered back the engines and they curved in toward
the coast. They slowed to half-speed and slid through a narrow channel into a small
bay.

“Natasha,
show him around,” said Wes as he sat next to Kestrel.

Mirza followed
the model through the superstructure and out to the wooden front deck. The sun
was shining, the skies were blue, and he almost forgot he was on a mission.
“Are you a friend of Wes’s?” he asked Natasha.

“Aren’t
you just the sweetest thing.” She dropped her sarong and lay down on a sunbed.
“Let’s just say that I’m part of the crew.” She gave a wink then closed her
eyes.

In his
bulky suit and padded midriff he felt more than a little overdressed. He tried
to make himself comfortable on the adjacent lounge and occupied himself by
watching the mansions on the far bank.

Five
minutes later the boat pulled in against a wooden pier that extended out over
the beach and onto a bank covered in manicured grass. Beyond a row of willows
Mirza saw the large glazed windows of a modernist mansion.

“This way,
guys.” Wes led them off the boat and through the trees.

The smell
of barbecuing meat greeted them as they reached a patio in front of an exquisite
sparkling blue swimming pool.

“You made
good time.” A tall, grey-haired gentleman was drinking a beer and cooking on
the most expensive looking BBQ Mirza had ever seen.

“That boat
moves pretty quick,” replied Kestrel.

“You know
what they say about boats,” said Jordan Pollard as he handed the tongs to the miner.
“Best investment a man never made.”

Kestrel
laughed but Mirza sensed the off-hand comment annoyed Wes who seemed to avoid
eye contact with his boss.

“Mr. Adir
Premiji, my name’s Jordan. Welcome to my home away from home.” He reached into
a cooler and offered Mirza a beer.

“Please
call me, Adir. Is there any chance you might have some soda? That boat ride
upset my stomach a little.”

 
“Wesley always drives that damn toy of
his too fast. Follow me, we’ll grab a drink from the kitchen.” He gestured for
Mirza to follow him through the floor-to-ceiling folding glass doors into the residence’s
living area. “My wife’s responsible for the house so I can’t make any claim to
having good taste.”