PRIMAL Unleashed (2) (11 page)

Mirza turned the device over in his hand. It was a little larger than Bishop’s iPhone and the screen was flexible. He prodded it with a finger and it activated, displaying a number of menu options.

“Ice’ll teach you how to use it. He’s a bit of a boffin.”

Ice laughed. “Yeah, I’d make a great instructor. It took me weeks to figure out all the functions. Damn thing’s built for little midget hands.”

“You got it in the end, mate,” Mitch said.

“So, this is for me?” Mirza asked.

Mitch gave him a smile. “Of course. You’re part of the team now, squire. Right, sorry to be rude, Mirza, but I’ve a ton of work to do to get this old girl ready, so I’m going have to leave you chaps to it.”

Mirza held up the combat interface. “Thanks again.”

Mitch was already deep into the cargo hold. “Don’t mention it.”

Ice and Mirza climbed back into the buggy and they headed towards a large set of doors at the rear of the cavern.

“So what’s your background, Mirza? Bishop said something about the Special Frontier Force?”

“Yes, five years. I was in Special Group.” Special Group was an even more elite part of the Indian SFF, specializing in intelligence gathering and counter-terrorism operations. “What about you?”

“Me? Ten years in the Marines, five more with the CIA.”

“Have you been working with PRIMAL for long?” Mirza asked, trying to calculate Ice’s age. He guessed the big man was a little older than Bishop, probably around thirty-five.

“You could say that. Back in the company days I used to work with Vance.”

“Vance?”

“Yeah, you’ll meet the boss soon enough. By the way, I heard about what happened with you and Bish in Sierra Leone. Bold move, very bold move.”

“I had to follow Aden’s lead.”

“He’s one crazy cat, that’s for sure. But you didn’t have to follow him.” Ice turned his head to look Mirza in the eye. “Glad you did though, because between me and you, that’s what got you into PRIMAL.” Ice stopped the golf buggy in front of a pair of doors imbedded in the rock. He jumped out, activated a security panel and the doors slid open, revealing a freight elevator the size of a double car garage. It easily accommodated the cart.

“So you’ve seen the hangar, now we’ll take you down into the facility.” Ice activated another panel and the lift jolted slightly, beginning its descent. “We’ve got three levels. First is accommodation, mess, gym, pool, and all the comfort stuff. The second is where we’re heading: training facilities, armoury, workshops, etcetera—and the third is the Bunker.”

The lift jolted to a halt. “We have to be in the Bunker in a little over an hour, so we’re going to take this opportunity to get you kitted out.”

The doors opened to a well-lit corridor carved into rock. It forked off in two directions and Ice pointed down the left hand side. “I’ll show you later, but down there we’ve got the kill house and the shooting range.” He turned the buggy right and they started down the corridor.

“You have a kill house?” Mirza’s eyebrows lifted.

“Sure, but that’s not the best bit.”

They drove out of the corridor into a massive cave that clearly served as an equipment warehouse. One side of the space housed all manner of vehicles: jet skis, four-wheel drives, sports cars, light helicopters, and even a couple of mini-subs. On the other side, smaller shelves were stacked with gear, including racks of weapons ranging from compact pistols to automatic grenade launchers. Any piece of equipment anyone could possibly want for special operations or covert activities was held in the one facility.

Mirza felt like a kid in a toy store and he looked at Ice with a huge grin on his face. Mirza laughed as he left the cart and walked over for a closer look at the mini-subs.

Ice laughed and yelled after him, “I call it WARMART. Now lets get you kitted out before we head up to the Bunker for orders.”

Chapter 16

The Bunker

“Welcome to the Bunker. This is where it all happens,” Ice said as Mirza followed him through the sliding door.

“So it seems,” whispered the Indian as he walked into the Operations Room. The rest of PRIMAL Headquarters seemed like a ghost town in comparison. The room was packed with PRIMAL operators seated along the walls beneath the huge LCD screens. Key staff were busy amongst the central computer terminals. Mirza guessed that most of them were former US military; the room looked like a futuristic version of a US command post he had once visited, except in place of the uniforms were a variety of outfits, from Mitch’s flight suit to Ice’s Hawaiian shirt.

Mirza noticed Bishop sitting in the corner and gave him a wide grin. Bishop caught his eye and gave him a thumbs up.

Ice directed the new PRIMAL operative to a seat along the rough-cut wall. As Mirza sat, his eyes were drawn to a heavily built, bald-headed African-American who was talking to a small Asian.

“That’s Vance, the Director. He’s in charge of operations,” Ice whispered. “The little guy is Chua, our Chief of Intelligence. They run the show.”

Everyone went quiet and stopped what they were doing as Vance moved to the front of the room. He stood impassive in front of the central LCD screen, crossed his huge arms and locked eyes with Mirza.

“Before we begin I want to welcome the newest member of our team. Jump up, Mirza.” Vance’s deep voice filled the entire room.

Mirza stood abashed as all eyes turned to him.

“Mirza, my name’s Vance, and I’m in charge of this ragtag bunch of pirates. Sorry we haven’t had time for formal introductions. There is a situation developing that requires a bit of high-speed and low-drag, if you know what I mean.”

“Sir, I am at your service,” Mirza said. If he was intimidated, he didn’t show it.

“And we appreciate having you on team. Make yourself comfortable and we’ll get this ball game started,” Vance said as he headed back to his seat. “Chua, please outline the intel picture.” 

PRIMAL’s Chief of Intelligence was far more animated than Vance, moving around the room as he spoke. “You may have already heard about the Taliban uprising occurring in Southern Afghanistan,” Chua started. He pressed his remote and the central screen displayed a map overlayed with broad red arrows. “For two days now insurgents have commenced large-scale offensive operations in both Helmand and Kandahar.”

He used the laser pointer in the remote to indicate on the map as he briefed. “Coalition reporting indicates that the offensive in Helmand involves over two thousand insurgents. British and US forces are currently restricted to their bases and have sustained a high number of casualties. Insurgent forces now occupy a number of minor town centers in the area.”

There were some hushed voices from the back of the audience and Chua looked up from his notes, over to where Bishop sat whispering to one of the other operatives. “Aden, did you have something to add?”

Bishop leaned back in his chair and spoke up, “Chen, don’t get me wrong. This is all sorts of messed up, but what does it have to do with us? The Yanks have more than enough assets in country to target the insurgents. Surely PRIMAL has more worthy causes to fight without getting involved? What about our upcoming Congo operation or—”

Vance’s deep voice interrupted. “There’s more to it Bish. Listen.” The Director swiveled around in his chair and shot him a stern look.

Chua pushed his glasses up his nose and continued. “I’ve assessed that this Taliban offensive is supported by a third party and orchestrated to draw attention away from a specific, more significant operation. This is based on multiple reliable sources. Firstly we intercepted part of a satellite phone call from the Khod Valley in Oruzgan province.”

Chua pressed a button on the remote and the voice cut was displayed on the screen behind him. He gave everyone a minute to look at it.

TRANSMISSION COMMENCED

Original Language: Pashto.

PERS 1: Khan, it’s Khalid.

PERS 2: What happened?

PERS 1: We ambushed American forces moving up the valley, report five armored vehicles destroyed.

PERS 2: Very good. Did you take any casualties?

PERS 1: We have had no losses, although we …………
static
………..

PERS 2: Good work brother, Dostiger will be pleased. Did any of the infidels escape?

PERS 1: No we took care of them all, the jammer stopped them contacting …………
static
…………

PERS 2: “Good, good the engineer says it will take no more than five days          for us to finish the excavation. Do you………..
static………

TRANSMISSION BROKEN

Ice’s brow furrowed as he read over the transcript. “Is this telling us that a bunch of Talibs wiped out a whole goddamn Stryker patrol?”

“Related coalition reporting indicates the patrol is missing,” Chua replied. “I assess it’s been destroyed. Obviously these are not your usual run-of-the-mill Taliban. They’re not hiding in the hills shooting off rockets willy-nilly and blowing themselves up with
IEDs
.”

“So what are they doing?” Ice asked. “Sounds like some sort of recovery op.”

Chua nodded. “That’s exactly what they’re doing. A Taliban unit led by someone called Khan is defending this excavation site in Oruzgan. The wider offensive is orchestrated to slow down the Coalition response and buy time to complete the excavation.”

The Chinese-American looked back down at his notes before continuing, “So what are they excavating and why? Well, further communications analysis has indicated that these Taliban are working for an arms dealer in the Ukraine known as Dostiger. Additionally, one of our agents in Iran has revealed that the Revolutionary Guards have contracted Dostiger to acquire a WMD for them.”

Chua took a sip from a can of energy drink before continuing. “We assess that this Dostiger is using the Taliban to recover some sort of WMD the Soviet Army left behind in Afghanistan, possibly buried inside one of the many caves or tunnel complexes. Historical CIA reporting reveals that the Russians were conducting experimental weapons testing on the Afghan population in the 80’s. My assessment is that the remains of a biological or chemical weapons testing facility still exists in vicinity of the Khod Valley.”

Mirza slowly raised his hand. “Ah, Sir, apologies for interrupting but I was wondering why the Guards need a WMD. Doesn’t Iran have its own weapons program? From what I’ve seen in the news, it’s nearing completion.” A number of the other PRIMAL operators nodded in appreciation of the query.

“I am glad you asked, Mirza. Although the Revolutionary Guards were initially created to protect the regime, they have become so powerful that Iran’s leadership no longer trusts them. The Iranian government has isolated the Guards from WMD development. They are concerned that with a WMD the Guards could rally enough support to launch a coup.” The intelligence officer paused to look back at Mirza. “Does that answer your question?”

“Yes, Sir. Thank you,” Mirza said.

“OK, so the Guards are running unsanctioned operations to acquire this weapon. Our source reveals that the Iranian intelligence organisation, MOIS, are currently aware of what the Guards are doing and have initiated an investigation. MOIS don’t seem to know about the Afghan link, but they are going after the arms dealer, Dostiger, and have deployed a team to the Ukraine.”

The corner of Chua’s mouth turned up in a slight smirk as he caught Bishop’s eye. “Oh, and Aden, the MOIS team leader is reported to be a very beautiful young woman by the name of Alfsaneh—probably not your type though. My reports indicate she speaks half a dozen languages and holds a masters in English. Not exactly catwalk material, if you know what I mean.” Chua smiled at Bishop and everyone in the room laughed.

Bishop looked embarrassed. He didn’t think anyone but Ice knew about the model he had briefly entertained in Spain a couple of months back. “Yeah. Thanks, Chen, that’s very interesting, but tell us more about this arms dealer. How long has he been working with the Guards?” Bishop questioned, sitting forward in his chair, eyes burning intensely. It was no secret that Bishop was obsessed with the Iranian Revolutionary Guards and their links to terrorists ever since the attack on Flight 395 that had claimed the lives of his parents.

“We’ve just received a comprehensive file on Dostiger. You’ll get it after these orders,” Chua answered.

Bishop wondered why he hadn’t been given the file yet. He slouched back in his chair. “What about our coverage in Kiev?“ He knew from an earlier warning order that he was going to be tasked with the Ukraine job.

“At this stage it’s very limited.” Chua’s tone was serious again. “The Forward Integrated Support Team that you’ll be working with have minimal knowledge of the area. One of the FIST members was born in the Ukraine but hasn’t lived there since he was a boy.”

“And our own
HUMINT
? Does Ivan have any of his old connections?” Bishop queried.

“Our network doesn’t extend to the Ukraine. I’ve tasked Ivan to start recruiting sources in the area but initially you’ll be starting from scratch. In the intelligence pack you’ll be given, we’ve identified Dostiger’s frontman who works for Antonov. It should provide a start point.”

Chua checked his notebook before concluding, “OK, that’s all the intelligence we have at this stage. Any updates will be provided directly to the field. Are there any further questions?” Chua looked around the room before returning to his seat.

“Thank you, Chua,” Vance said as he moved to the front. “Team, from the Intelligence Chief’s brief I’m sure you understand that the shit is rolling down hill at a rapid rate.”

He nodded at Bishop before continuing. “I appreciate that we don’t usually do ops in the ‘Ghan but if we don’t step in, the Guards could have a WMD within 4 days. With everyone else bogged down fighting terry towelhead down south, there ain’t gonna be anyone else to stop ’em. As for Dostiger in the Ukraine, we’ve leaked this to both the Israelis and the US but their cluster-fuck bureaucratic systems mean that by the time they decide to act, it’ll be all over.”