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

by Jack Silkstone

  It only took Howard five minutes to deliver the in-briefing before concluding. “Guys, in addition to this intel, we recently found out our target in Mexico is using the name Aden.”

  “So Objective Yankee’s name is Aden?” Ben asked.

  “Correct, however it may be a cover name.”

  Shelly sat at her desk and pointed at the big screen on the wall. “Howard, can you go back to his image, the one from Kiev.”

  “Sure.”

  The grainy image of Bishop and Kurtz standing side by side appeared. Both men were clad in black and heavily armed.

  “That’s the one. I was thinking, maybe we can track him down through the other guy. The shot of his face is a little better. If I had to guess, I’d say he’s of Nordic stock, maybe Scandinavian.”

  “I ran him through the database but it didn’t get a hit,” said Howard.

  “We should send out a Request for Information to our European partners. It might take a while but it will definitely broaden the network,” she said.

  “Good idea. Can you take care of that?”

  Shelly smiled at him. “Sure thing, boss.”

  Howard sat a little taller in his chair. ‘Boss’, he could get used to that. He clicked to another image; a slide showing a timeline covering the next three days. “Guys, this is our allocation of Predator hours.” He used his mouse cursor to point out red sections of the time scale. “We’ve got three blocks of six hours. They’ll all be flown from around 2100 to 0300 hours in the morning.” He advanced the slide deck to a map of the area around the mine. “We need to submit the areas that we want it to focus on, ASAP.”

  Ben stood and pointed to the rugged mountainous terrain to the east of the mine. “If I was going to approach this I’d infiltrate through here. Vehicles would be useless in that terrain so there’s not much chance the guys from the mine will patrol it. If Objective Yankee is ex-military, he’s going to know that.”

  Howard used his mouse to draw a box over the area. He’d read Ben’s file, the skinny geek was also a National Guardsman who had completed two tours of Afghanistan. He knew what he was talking about. “You do up the Predator pack, Ben. Make it a priority.”

  “Roger. Also, is there a chance I can get the details of the hack the security guys found on their phone? If I can get it over to the NSA they might be able to pull the software apart and find out who programmed it. Might give us a better idea of who we’re dealing with.”

  “I’ll see what I can do. When you get time, I also want both of you to take a look at the Sinaloa cartel comms traffic and see if there’s anything that might relate to the threat to the mine.”

  “You think they might be behind this?” asked Shelly.

  Howard nodded. “Possibly. Whoever has hired Yankee is going to need some serious cash and, tell me if I’m wrong Ben, but the type of hacking we’re talking about isn’t cheap either.”

  “Yeah, it ain’t cheap. Not when programmers are charging a grand an hour to build it. You’re looking at least fifty or sixty hours to build something simple.”

  “Good to know.”

  “Have they identified how the hack got into their system?” Ben continued.

  “Not yet. But as soon as they do, they’re going to let us know. Now if you guys have got enough to get started, I’m going to get some fresh air.” Howard gulped the last of his coffee, grabbed a can from the fridge, and swiped his way out of the room. He walked down the corridor, retrieved his phone from the storage cubicles, and headed outside.

  The director caught him at the door. “How’s it going, Terrance? You got everything you need?”

  Howard gave him a broad smile. “Sure do, boss. The team’s hard at work. I’m just going to grab a few minutes of fresh air.” He felt Everest’s hawk-like gaze pass over him. It lingered on the zero-sugar energy drink.

  “OK then. I might drop by later on.” He turned and wandered back to his office.

  Howard took a deep breath as soon as he was outside. He was never one for the outdoors but the fresh morning air seemed to be particularly invigorating today. He lit a cigarette, popped the can of energy drink, and placed it on the outdoor table. Then he fished out his phone and dialed Pershing’s number. Source 88 was going to be a very happy man.

  CHAPTER 18

  CHIHUAHUA

  They left the ranch just before dusk. Roberto on a muscular quarter horse called Tucson, Christina on the palomino, and Bishop on Tinkerbell, the flatulent brewery horse. For the first few hours Bishop enjoyed the ride. The sunset highlighted the barren landscape in shades of red as they rode across a hard-baked plain of stunted shrubs down into a shallow canyon.

  By the time the sun disappeared his legs were in agony. Not just the muscles, but also the hair on the inside of his thighs. The constant friction between his jeans and the saddle felt like it had wrenched out every single one from its follicle. Between that and the constant eruptions of gas coming from Tinkerbell’s rear, the novelty of the horse ride had well and truly worn off.

  As the temperature dropped, they stopped to pull on jackets and rest the horses. Bishop dismounted with a sigh of relief, and walked bow-legged, trying to shake the fatigue from his legs.

  “How you doing?” Christina asked.

  He was trying to stretch out his calves. “I’m a bit stiff but doing OK.”

  “Thanks again for agreeing to come.”

  “I wasn’t about to let you go alone, and I owe it to Emilio. After what they did to his son, I–”

  Roberto interrupted them with a low whistle. “Hey, let’s get going.”

  “Just a minute,” Christina said as she adjusted her saddle.

  When she was ready, they set off along the creek, twisting their way up the valley floor.

  He was surprised at how much light there was in the desert. A sliver of moon shone down from the cloudless sky bathing everything in a soft metallic glow.

  They plodded along the creek for a few more hours, Tinkerbell with her nose closely following Christina’s horse’s rear end. Long ago her ears had laid back against her skull as she decided that lugging Bishop’s two hundred pounds through the desert was a drag.

  She jerked her head up as Christina reined in her horse. In the moonlight Bishop saw Roberto had dismounted. He did the same, swinging out of the saddle, dropping to the sand. He groaned and stretched his legs. There was water flowing along a rocky creek a few yards away. Bishop reached into his pocket and pulled out a molasses candy. He had taken a handful of them from the barn. He put it on the palm of his hand and offered it to his mount.

  Tinkerbell’s ears shot forward as she caught a whiff of the candy. Her whiskers tickled his palm as she snuffled it up and chewed. She whinnied softly and nudged his hand with her nose. “Yeah, I’ve got you figured out, haven’t I?”

  He gave the horse a pat and led her to join the others. Roberto nodded at the bank. “This is called Digger’s Canyon. There’s an old gold mine up there.” He pointed to the hill that rose into the night sky. “It’s at least a hundred years old but you can still go inside.”

  “There’s lots of gold in the hills?” Bishop asked.

  Roberto shook his head. “No, it’s all mined out. Now you have to take all the dirt and put it through machines, whole mountains smashed to pieces. Soon you will see.”

  He felt a tug on the reins and turned to find Tinkerbell trying to walk to the creek. Roberto grabbed his shoulder. “Don’t let her drink here, it’s poison.”

  “What?” Bishop handed the reins to the rancher and went down to the water’s edge. He switched on the light on his iPRIMAL and could see the edges of the flowing creek were caked in a thick orange froth.

  “That’s terrible,” said Christina as she crouched next to him and pulled out her camera. “Do you think it’s safe for me to use my flash here?” she asked.

  “Should be fine.” He switched off his phone to conserve the battery as she took a photo of the waste.

  Bishop took his reins fr
om Roberto. “How far down does it go?”

  “All the way from monstrou down to the main river. There it’s not so noticeable because there’s more water. Come, we still have another hour to go before we reach the mine.”

  Bishop gave Tinkerbell another treat before climbing onto her back. The horse’s ears were up and she sniffed the air inquisitively. He wondered if she smelled the pollution in the water.

  Over the next hour they climbed out of the canyon and trotted along a plain at the base of the mountain. As they rode through rocky outcrops he noticed a glow emanating from behind the mountain range. He realized it must be the lights from the mine running twenty-four hour operations.

  Roberto halted them at a creek junction and the base of the mountain. He pointed at the ridgeline silhouetted by the glow from the mine. “We go by foot from here.” He jumped off his horse and led it to the water, letting it drink. “This creek is fed from a spring. It’s clean, for now.”

  Bishop and Christina waited for his horse to drink its fill then took their turn. When all three horses were watered they tied them to an old gnarled tree. As Bishop looped Tinkerbell’s reins onto the line the rancher had tied, she nudged him in the back and whinnied. He turned and scratched her forehead. “Typical woman, now you can’t live without me.” He gave her another treat and followed the others up the steep slope.

  “This all used to be part of Emilio’s farm,” said the rancher as they climbed toward the mine’s glow. “But now monstruo eats it all.”

  It took them over forty minutes to reach the crest. They heard the rumble of heavy machinery as they halted a few feet from the top.

  “Make sure your flash is off,” said Bishop.

  Christina nodded and checked the camera, taking a few shots to check the settings.

  “Stay behind us,” he said as he followed Roberto to the mine’s edge. A few yards from the lip the rancher unslung his shotgun, dropped to his stomach, and snaked forward.

  Bishop followed and was shocked at the scale of the operation as it came into view. Massive front-end loaders were lifting loads of rubble and loading gargantuan dump trucks. They rumbled across the mine pit like wheeled dinosaurs, shifting thousands of tons of earth.

  Bishop waved for Christina to join them. Powerful floodlights illuminated the entire site and would make for good photos. Not only for Christina’s article, but he would be able to send copies back to the Bunker for vulnerability assessment.

  “It’s huge,” Christina whispered when she was next to him.

  He replied in a normal tone. “It’s OK, they’re not going to hear us.”

  Christina snapped photos as Bishop studied the layout of the mine. There was no way Roberto and his men would be able to decisively sabotage the pit operation. With rocket launchers or explosives they might damage some of the gigantic trucks or loaders, but those could be repaired or replaced.

  Roberto tapped him on the shoulder. “Guards.”

  The old-timer had a good eye. Bishop barely made out the weapons of the men standing next to a dune buggy. They all wore black jackets. “Chaquetas.”

  Bishop waited for Christina to finish photographing. “Roberto, is there a place where we can see the mine’s camp?”

  “We can follow the hill around.”

  “Let’s check it out.”

  They scrambled back down the side of the hill and traversed the rocky slope. It gradually eased off after a few hundred yards. Bishop moved into the lead, pushing ahead to scout the way.

  He crouched in the cover of an outcrop and scanned the camp below. A road ran through the center and on the near side was an accommodation and offices complex made from transportable buildings. On the other side was the mining infrastructure: a crushing plant, fuel depot, refinery, secure storage sheds for the unrefined gold, and huge water tanks, filled the level space.

  Patrolling the perimeter were pairs of armed Chaquetas and Bishop’s first thought was to switch on his iPRIMAL, call in an airstrike, and level the entire complex. However, there were no assets available, and Vance and Chua would never authorize that option..He watched as two more of the high-speed buggies rolled out from a shed. He was starting to feel uneasy at the amount of security. This number of guards, late at night, was overkill, unless they suspected an imminent threat.

  A crunching of rock behind caught his attention and he turned to see Christina. “Where’s Roberto?” he whispered.

  She pointed further along the ridgeline. “Over there.”

  Bishop kept an eye on the two buggies. As they followed the track away from the mine, only their lights were visible, but it looked as if they were conducting a clearing patrol around the boundary fence.

  Christina snapped a series of photos. Shielding the screen, she checked the exposure settings.

  “How did they turn out?”

  “Not great. We really need to come back during the day.”

  “No way, have you seen how many men are down there?”

  The sound of the buggies was getting louder.

  Roberto’s gravelly voice sounded from behind them. “We need to get a move on.”

  Christina packed her camera away and all three pulled back from the ridge.

  “If you’re going to hit these guys, night time’s the way to go,” Bishop said as they scrambled down the rocky slope. “They’ve got no night-vision goggles or ground sensors. You could sneak in, sabotage, and get out.”

  “That’s what I was thinking too,” replied the rancher.

  It took them twenty minutes to walk back down to where they’d left the horses. Tinkerbell greeted Bishop with a friendly neigh and he fed her his last molasses candy. They saddled up and Roberto led them back through the desert toward the canyon.

  Bringing up the rear Bishop thought he heard something. He cocked his head and listened. Behind the squeak of leather and soft thud of Tinkerbell’s hooves there was the faint drone of an engine. It was probably just the machinery at the mine.

  CHAPTER 19

  NEW YORK CITY

  The cab was parked in a back alley with Mirza at the wheel. Once again, they had chosen to work in the early hours of the morning. There was less traffic on the road, it was dark, and the cab was one of hundreds prowling the streets.

  He watched Mitch in the rear vision mirror. “You really think this is going to work?”

  Mitch was holding what looked like a miniature flying saucer. The four-bladed multi-rotor had been purchased from a hobby store. He’d assembled it, made some modifications, and was now ready to soar between the Manhattan skyscrapers.

  “Of course it’s going to work. When has anything I’ve made ever not worked?”

  “Well, there was that time in Libya…”

  “That doesn’t count. Bishop broke it before I even had a chance to get it off the ground.” Mitch shook his head. “That guy’s bloody lethal.”

  Mirza touched the screen of his iPRIMAL and checked Bishop’s status. “He might be lethal but at the moment he’s in the middle of nowhere with no support. We should be down in Mexico with him.” The command and control app automatically updated Bishop’s location via the iPRIMAL’s GPS chip.

  “We need to sort this hacking business first.” Mitch made the final adjustments to the drone. “So you all good with your part?”

  “Yes, I watch the tablet. Find the right Bluetooth device.”

  “Which is?”

  Mirza picked up the tablet. A piece of tape was stuck to the bottom of it with the Bluetooth device’s name. “Clarissa’s Fab iPad.”

  Mitch gave a wry smile and shook his head. “I don’t ever want to meet Clarissa. I guarantee she’s watched every episode of Sex in the City ten times. OK, what then?”

  “Then I connect to it, and it will upload a patch.”

  “Correct, the key is we need to stay in range of the Bluetooth until the upload is complete. Once we do that, Flash will be able to use the iPad to access GE’s network.”

  “When it’s plugged into
an isolated USB port.”

  “That’s correct. Don’t ask me how he can do it. I just build the toys, he writes the code. You ready?”

  “Are you?”

  “Born ready. If I can pilot a tilt-rotor I can pilot this thing.” He opened the door of the cab, reached up, and placed the pizza-box sized drone on the roof. Once he was back in the cab he donned a pair of oversized goggles.

  “You look like you’re going scuba diving.”

  “Just drive.”

  Mirza smirked as he drove out the alley and parked the cab in a loading zone next to the target building. “We’re in position.”

  Mitch was now seeing the world through the drone’s camera. In his hands he held the radio controller for the device. He had a lot of experience with piloting full-size aircraft but never a hobby-sized copter. He thumbed the stick that controlled the power input to the four engines. “OK, I’m sending her up.”

  On top of the cab the little drone buzzed like an angry hornet and leaped off the roof, shooting into the air.

  “Whoa, slow down, little lady.” He slowed the ascent, rotating the copter till it faced the building. “OK, we’re about five stories up. How we tracking?”

  “No Bluetooth networks yet.”

  “OK.” Mitch increased the throttle and it started climbing. It bucked wildly and darted forward. Through his goggles the building loomed. He pulled back on the stick, tipping the nose up. Now he was looking at the skyline. “Shit!” He dropped the nose and throttled back slightly.

  The little aircraft came within inches of the glass building then dropped. Mitch managed to recover it by giving it more throttle. He decided it was better to play it safe and stuck to the middle of the alleyway. The quadcopter rocketed skyward climbing another ten stories in seconds. “How are we going now?”

  Mirza was watching the screen intently. “Not seeing it.”

  Mitch gave it more power, climbing another half dozen stories.

  “Got it. No, wait. No, it’s gone.”