Primal Exodus

by Jack Silkstone

  His Exodus plan, every active member of the team had one, was to meet up with two other PRIMAL operatives who lived in Spain. Pavel and Miklos were not on the ‘full-time’ squad but subbed in when heavy hitters were needed. They’d opened a lodge for travellers, near Barcelona, where Ice could regroup and plan the next stage of his life. Mitch, previously PRIMAL’s chief pilot and technician, had invited him to join his Special Effects lab in California, but Ice wasn’t ready to join the regular workforce just yet. He was contemplating seeing what Kurtz and Kruger had going on in Africa.

  He reached for his drink with his artificial hand and remembered that he’d put the robotic one in checked baggage. The prosthetic he traveled with was far less capable but also garnered less attention from airport security. The missing limb, along with the heavy scarring that marred his torso and face was a brutal reminder of the sacrifices he’d made for PRIMAL. Yet, if he could do it all again, he wouldn’t change a thing.

  A buzzing noise from his carry-on satchel triggered a frown as he dug into the leather bag for his E&E phone. He’d purchased the device locally and the only app he’d loaded was a straightforward, but very secure, messaging service. It wasn’t supposed to be used until forty-eight hours after Exodus was initiated.

  He used the thumb on his real hand to unlock the device and then entered a number to open the messaging application. There was a single message from a user called Yogapants77.

  Keila type team has B. Last known location was his parents. His device is compromised. Please help me find him.

  Ice thumbed a reply.

  Where are you?

  The application let him know that she was typing a response.

  Rwanda, I’m heading back to Dubai soon.

  What the hell was Saneh doing in Rwanda? he thought as he entered a message of his own.

  K2 are heading that way. Get in touch with them. I’ll find B.

  She replied with a single letter.

  K

  Ice slipped the phone into his pocket, grabbed his bag and headed straight to the Iberia airlines lounge. A service assistant greeted him with a broad smile. “Do you speak English?” he asked.

  “Yes, how can I help?”

  “I need to cancel my flight and rebook to Valencia.”

  ***

  DOHA, QATAR

  Vance held the door of the luxury suite as the bellhop pushed a luggage cart inside.

  “Would you like me to unpack, sir?” the man asked.

  “All good, bud.” He handed him a crisp twenty-dollar bill as Chua entered the room.

  “I’ll be up for your luggage tomorrow morning at nine sharp. It will be checked all the way through to your destination. If there is anything else you need, feel free to call.” The man gave a curt nod and departed.

  Chua exhaled as he slumped into one of the room’s leather armchairs. “I could get used to this.”

  “How you feeling?” asked Vance.

  They had left the safe house outside of Dubai and driven the four-hundred miles to Qatar in a single day. With Chua still recovering from his injury it was Vance who’d been at the wheel the entire time.

  “A little better.”

  Vance grabbed the room service menu from the dining table and donned a pair of reading glasses. “I’m starving, let’s eat and hit the hay. Our flight leaves early tomorrow.”

  “Sounds good. Is there a Wi-Fi password on there?”

  Vance’s eyes narrowed. “And what would you need that for?”

  “To check up on world events.”

  “I’m sure there’s a TV in the living room. They’ll have BBC, CNN and all your other favorites. You’ll be able to get your fix.”

  “You’re killing me.”

  “No, I’m keeping you alive. Seriously, you’re worse than a tween. Can’t you go without the internet for just a few days?”

  Chua shook his head. “I’m an intel guy. I need my information.”

  “You’re a grown man. You can go without Wi-Fi for at least another 24 hours in accordance with the protocol that you established.”

  “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

  “You know there’s no internet where we’re going,” Vance added as he thumbed through the menu.

  “What?”

  “Yeah, Mitch was saying the place is a real black hole. Totally off the grid.”

  “You’re telling me you organized a new base of operations that doesn’t have any connectivity?”

  “Relax, it’s got hunting, fishing and heaps of mountain biking. You’re going to love it.”

  “Yeah sure, and how are we going to run PRIMAL operations?”

  “Well, I thought we might slow things right down.” Vance placed the menu back on the table.

  “You want to retire?”

  “I was thinking more of a change in role. More advisory over hands on.”

  “But who would run PRIMAL?”

  Vance frowned. “Chua, Exodus has been called, there is no PRIMAL anymore. They’re going to have to rebuild from the ground up.”

  “They?”

  “Bishop, Ice, Saneh, Mirza, Mitch, whoever wants to.”

  “And we fall into more of an advisory role?”

  Vance nodded. “I don’t know about you, but I’m a little burnt out.”

  Chua gestured to the wound in his side. “And I’m shot out.”

  He laughed. “Yeah, well it’s something to think about.” He turned his attention back to the menu. “I’m going to have the burger. You want one?”

  ***

  RWANDAN BORDER

  Kurtz swirled the takeaway coffee he was holding and peered absently into it as the liquid spun. He wondered what the other members of the PRIMAL team were doing as he and Kruger continued their odyssey to recover the kidnapped girls. Mirza and his girlfriend would still be in London, Vance and Chua had probably escaped to somewhere in South East Asia, Mitch would be in America with his new company, and Bishop and Saneh were most likely in Spain. He wondered if there was a chance that the team would ever get back together or if this was it, the end of PRIMAL.

  “Tank’s full,” said Kruger as he joined him at the rear of the truck stop near the Rwanda-Uganda border. “You want a refill coffee?”

  “Nein, it tastes like shit.”

  Kruger laughed as he strolled across to the diner, leaving Kurtz to walk back to their pickup parked at the gas pumps. They had hired the truck in Kampala and driven south six hours toward Nyagatare, Rwanda. Booyah followed them on a motorbike before peeling off to recon a refueling point for their Mi-17.

  As Kurtz climbed into the passenger side of the pickup his phone rang. He checked the screen. The number wasn’t one that he recognized, however, he could tell it was local. He answered it. “Hello.”

  “Shorty it’s me. A little bird told me you were heading my way.”

  He instantly recognized the voice as Saneh’s. Shorty was the English translation of his nickname Kurtz. “Not unless you’re in Rwanda.”

  “I am. Look, there’s no time to explain. I’ll send you a location where we can meet.”

  “Ja, OK.”

  The call ended leaving Kurtz somewhat confused.

  “Who was that?” asked Kruger as he climbed into the cab with a can of energy drink.

  “Saneh, she’s in Rwanda.”

  “With Bishop? Is this part of her Exodus plan?”

  “She didn’t say.”

  His phone chimed. “This will be our RV.” He took out a notebook and scribbled down the coordinates. Then he swapped the minutes in the latitude with the degrees in the longitude and vice versa. It was a simple technique they used when transmitting a location over an insecure net. Then he punched the coordinates into his GPS.

  The position that Saneh wanted to meet them was less than twenty miles away outside a small town called Tabagwa. He noted that it was less than an hour from the location that Krenich had given them.

  “What do you think she wants?” asked Kruger.

  �
��I’m not sure. But from the tone of her voice, I’d say it’s important.”

  “So is rescuing the last of the girls.”

  “Family comes first,” said Kurtz as he started the truck.

  Kruger raised his can of energy drink in a mock toast. “Amen to that.”

  ***

  TEL AVIV, ISRAEL

  Keila caught Abel’s eye as she entered the Kidon office and gestured for him to join her at the corner kitchenette. “I can’t get hold of Bishop.”

  Her lead analyst shrugged. “That’s not unusual, right?”

  “I’m worried something has happened to him. You heard anything on the grapevine?”

  He frowned. “I heard a rumor that Lisker’s guys had made a move on one of their target sets. You don’t think they’ve grabbed him and the others?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Can’t you ask your guy at 8200?”

  “I tried. He’s not answering my calls either.”

  “Gaslighting, or do you think he knows something?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “He may be on lockdown.”

  “Which would imply that something big is going on. I’ll reach out to some of the other analysts and see what I can dig up.”

  “Appreciated, I’ll try Asher again.”

  “Be careful with him. If Lisker puts the squeeze on him, he might give you up, and the word on the street is he’s heading all the way to the top.”

  “Are you kidding? He’s a borderline criminal with his own personal hit squad. If he becomes the director of Mossad he’s going to do whatever he wants. There will be no oversight of his actions.”

  “You seriously think there’s any oversight now? Director Atzomi doesn’t know half the crap that Lisker has going on. I heard he’s in bed with Sakkin Industries.”

  “What evidence is there of that?” she asked.

  “I’ve got a buddy in the Pretoria Embassy. Lisker attended a symposium they put on. He saw him talking to Daniel Ginsberg, the CEO of Sakkin.”

  “That doesn’t mean they’re working together.”

  “My friend saw Lisker leave in one of Ginsberg’s cars. He tailed it to the heliport where he took off in a chopper.”

  “Slow day in Pretoria?”

  Abel shrugged. “Every day’s a slow day according to him.”

  “Does Sakkin have many interests in South Africa?”

  “Yeah, they’re building a massive headquarters in Cape Town.”

  “Well, it’s no secret that Lisker wants to expand into Africa. He’s been pushing for an increased presence from Egypt to Rwanda.” She paused in thought. “Abel, the guy that was assassinated in Dubai.”

  “Jarvis, the head of Intelligent Responsive Systems.”

  “Yeah, are there any links to Sakkin Industries there?”

  “Not sure, I’ll check it out.”

  “Do some digging and see what else you can find. I’m going to corner Asher.”

  She left Abel and the rest of the team in the office and drove the two blocks to the 8200 complex. If she was to storm into Asher’s office and cause a scene word would get back to Lisker, however, it was nearly ten o’clock, so she had a feeling he wouldn’t be at his desk.

  She got a park opposite the hole in the wall where she knew he got his coffee and waited. Sure enough, within half an hour he appeared and placed his order.

  Keila exited her vehicle and approached where he stood waiting, checking his phone. “So you’ve definitely seen my messages, right?”

  “Keila, look–”

  “Hey, I get it. Lisker can end your career with a snap of his fingers. All I need from you is a couple of yes-no answers.”

  The barista announced Asher’s order and he collected it from the window with Keila in tow.

  “You already know what I’m going to ask,” she persisted.

  “Walk with me.”

  They set off down a street that didn’t lead directly back to his building.

  He sipped his coffee before speaking. “I know what you’re going to ask and you already know the answer. Shortly after we broke their network it went dark, and I mean pitch black. No activity on linked devices, nothing.”

  “You think Lisker’s team went in hot?”

  “It happened ten minutes after the network was shut down. I think that you tipped them off.”

  Keila’s silence all but confirmed the statement.

  “Did they get anyone?” she asked, quietly.

  “I don’t know for sure. But, I do know they were tracking a couple of handsets outside of the secure network. One of them was in Spain, just outside of Valencia in a little town called Requena.”

  “Shit!”

  He stopped and turned to her. “What’s wrong?”

  “That asshole Lisker is wrapping up my contacts.”

  “Look, I wish I could do more.”

  She leaned across and kissed him on the cheek. “You’ve already done enough. Look, when the dust settles dinner’s on me. In fact, I’ll cook at my place.”

  Asher grinned. “Brilliant, I’ll wait for your call.”

  “Better pick up this time,” quipped Keila as she walked away. En route to her car she rang Abel.

  “Any luck?” he asked.

  “Our boy was in Spain. See if you can locate his burn phone.”

  “OK, when are you leaving? Did you want me to see if Dan is free to go with?”

  “Am I that predictable?”

  “Nope, but I know how you think.”

  “Don’t worry about Dan, we need to keep this lower than low. I’ll go and sniff around by myself.”

  “Stay out of trouble.”

  “Will do.”

  CHAPTER 16

  TABAGWA, RWANDA

  The location that Saneh had sent Kurtz was an abandoned building a few miles out of a dusty Rwandan village. Judging from the amount of garbage strewn through the surrounding thorn bushes and trees it had probably been a general store.

  “You think this could be a setup?” asked Kruger from where he was laying behind his PKP machine gun.

  Kurtz lowered his binoculars and glanced across at him. “She didn’t use any of the duress phrases.”

  “Better safe than sorry, eh.”

  They’d parked their pickup in the scrub and walked in to observe the location. Kurtz had already flown a small drone in a full loop around it and seen nothing of interest.

  “Vehicle inbound,” said Kruger, peering through the scope on his machine gun.

  Kurtz focused on the road and saw the dust cloud. It grew in size until he could make out a white SUV at its head. The vehicle slowed as it approached the store before turning into a clearing to its front. He checked his watch; it was eleven minutes to the hour, standard RV window.

  Kruger let out a low whistle as two figures emerged from the vehicle. “Saneh’s got a lady friend.”

  Kurtz identified Saneh but didn’t recognize the second woman. She was taller than Bishop’s partner, with broader shoulders. She wore sunglasses and a cap pulled low. Saneh turned and faced directly toward him with her right hand tucked into her pocket, signaling that it was all clear. “I’m going in.”

  “I’ll cover.”

  Kurtz climbed to his feet, taking up his customized AK as he tucked the binoculars into a pouch. Walking through the scrub he removed his cap and held it low in his right hand; a predetermined signal. It took him less than a minute to cover the few hundred yards and join the two women.

  “Kurtz, it’s so good to see you.” Saneh threw her arms around him.

  “You too. Is Bish here?”

  “No, he’s in Europe.”

  They broke and Saneh gestured to the second woman. “Kurtz, this is Bianca. Is Kruger in overwatch?”

  “Ja.” He offered his hand to the other woman.

  Her grip was firm as she removed her sunglasses and smiled warmly. “Kurtz, it is a pleasure to meet you.” The accent was French with a hint of something else. She had defined angular features
and held his gaze with bright blue eyes.

  “You too, Bianca.”

  “All right, let’s move inside and bring everyone up to date,” Saneh said as she led them into the building.

  He nodded and thumbed the mike switch on his rifle. “All clear, bring it in.”

  Kurtz wasn’t surprised to find that Saneh and Bianca had already been to the abandoned store and tidied it up. They’d added stretchers under mosquito domes, a gas burner and jerry cans of clean water.

  Kruger joined them after parking alongside Saneh’s SUV. Once he’d been introduced to Bianca they sat on camp chairs around a table laid with butcher’s paper.

  “So what’s this all about?” Kurtz asked Saneh. “Why are you in Africa without Bishop?”

  “It’s a long story. Putting it simply, I was sent here to kill Bianca.”

  Kruger’s brow shot up. “Come again?”

  “Like I said, it’s a long story. Basically, Bianca stumbled on something sinister and in trying to do something about it she angered the wrong people. However, unfortunately for them, I was tasked to neutralize her.”

  “We staged my death,” added Bianca.

  “And it looks like they bought it. Which means we’ve got a very small window to deal with the Lifebright Foundation.”

  “Say that again,” said Kurtz.

  “What, Lifebright?”

  “The Lifebright Foundation hired you to kill Bianca?”

  Kurtz noted the sideways look that the French Canadian shot Saneh as she spoke. “In a roundabout way, yes.”

  “We’re here for the Lifebright Foundation,” said Kruger.

  Saneh’s eyes widened as she connected the dots. “Of course, the missing Somali girls.”

  Kurtz nodded. “We’ve been tracking them across three countries. Our last point of call was a people smuggler in Uganda. He confessed to delivering the girls to the Lifebright Foundation here in Rwanda.”