Primal Exodus

by Jack Silkstone

  “That’s the van,” Keila said, pointing to a white Mercedes Sprinter parked alongside a drab looking apartment block. “Right where they said it would be.”

  Ice was sitting behind the wheel of her hire car. He’d driven them from Bishop’s cottage to the address that Keila’s team had passed. Her analysts had used traffic cameras to track the van across town. Daisy had remained curled up on the back seat throughout the entire four-hour drive.

  “Your people are pretty good.”

  “They’re the best. Now, all we have to do is watch the truck and someone will lead us to Bishop.”

  They sat in silence for a moment.

  “Or,” said Ice as he reached for the door handle, “we can go find him.” He opened the door and made to climb out.

  “Wait, what are you going to do? Knock on doors?”

  He stuck his head back into the car. “What do you think I am, some kind of idiot?”

  She shrugged.

  Ice opened one of the rear doors. “Come on Daisy, let’s find Bishop.”

  The dog dashed outside with her nose held high. Running across to the van she sniffed around the rear doors with her tail wagging rapidly.

  “Shit!” Keila drew her pistol, checking she had a round chambered. Then she left the car and chased Ice who was following Daisy up a flight of stairs. “Wait up,” she hissed.

  The dog stopped in front of a door and pawed it as she whined. Ice glanced over his shoulder at Keila as he stopped short. “You good?”

  “No, wait–”

  Ice pulled Daisy away from the door and ordered her to sit. Then he rapped on it with his knuckles.

  When there was no response, he knocked again.

  A moment later the door opened a crack. “Hi. I was wondering if you’d like to buy some Girl Guide cookies,” he said.

  If Keila had blinked she would have missed what happened next. Ice kicked the door in, tearing the security latch from the frame. The man inside was smashed against the wall, pinned by the solid wooden door. Ice punched him in the face, knocking him out. Grabbing the pistol the man had dropped he racked the slide before hauling the unconscious man to his feet and carrying him one-handed into the living room.

  There were two more men in the living room, both with weapons drawn. Ice tossed their unconscious teammate across the room at them. The body forced them back against the couch. One of the men got a shot off and the bullet punched a hole in the ceiling mere inches from Ice’s head.

  “Drop the guns,” he barked as they struggled out from under the body.

  One of the men complied, but the other raised his weapon. Ice shot him through the forearm sending the pistol flying. Then he reached down and grasped the wounded man’s throat with his robotic hand. “How many?”

  Keila had entered and now covered the other man.

  “Just, just the three of us.” The wounded man managed between gritted teeth.

  “If you’re lying, you’re all going to die.”

  “Just three.”

  “And your prisoner?”

  “In the bedroom.”

  He left Keila guarding them and opened the door to the bedroom, revealing a bedraggled looking Bishop cuffed to a chair. The Australian winked as Ice entered the room. “You took your sweet ass time.”

  Ice chuckled as he took a multitool from his pocket and used it to pick the cuffs. “Sorry, I had a few things I had to do.”

  A bark sounded then Daisy shot into the room, leaped into her owner’s lap and licked his face.

  “I see you had some help.”

  “Yeah, but not just Daisy.”

  Bishop lowered the dog to the floor and stretched his arms over his head. “Is Saneh here?”

  “No, not Saneh.” Ice gestured to the door.

  Bishop stepped out of the bedroom and saw Keila covering the three men who’d abducted him.

  “Hello, Aden,” she said with a smile.

  “Keila, thanks for helping Ice out. I hope he wasn’t too much of a burden.”

  She shrugged. “He goes alright for an old guy.”

  “Yeah, well I really appreciate the effort.” He turned to Ice. “You got a phone I can borrow?”

  Ice handed him a phone and Bishop dialed the number he had for Saneh. Three times he tried and three times the number failed to connect. “Do you have another way of contacting Saneh?”

  “You using her burn number?”

  Bishop nodded.

  “That’s all I got, bud. I had contact with her yesterday. She was in Dubai, taking care of something.”

  Handing the phone back to Ice he turned his attention to the three men Keila was guarding. “You guys going to talk?”

  The man he’d nicknamed Biceps shrugged. “We ain’t got nothing to tell you. We got the contract to pick you up and hold you, that’s it.”

  “Whose contract?” asked Keila.

  “Some generic sounding firm. It’ll be a cut out for someone else. That’s the way it always works.”

  “So you’re guns for hire?” She sounded disgusted.

  “Hey, we gotta make a living.”

  “How did the bid come in?” she asked.

  “Same way it always does, over the app.”

  “There’s an app for this kind of thing?” Ice asked.

  “Yeah big man, there’s an app for everything,” replied Biceps.

  Bishop held out his hand. “Phone please.”

  The contractor reluctantly handed it over.

  “Password?”

  “0112”

  He slid the device into his pocket. “Well, you guys treated me pretty good except for the part where you tried to kill my dog. But, I’m not going to get all John Wick on your asses. Although, if we cross paths again I’m going to send the big guy after you.”

  The two conscious men nodded, glancing at Ice who smiled.

  “Let’s get out of here,” said Keila.

  A minute later Bishop was sitting in the back of Keila’s car with Daisy. Ice was back behind the wheel with Keila riding shotgun.

  “I can help you find Saneh,” said the Israeli operative as they weaved their way through traffic.

  “If your people haven’t found her already,” said Bishop.

  “Aden, I want you to know I had nothing to do with any of this.”

  “You’re not with Mossad anymore?” he said sarcastically.

  “Look, my team was shut out of Lascar Logistics. I’m not supposed to have any contact with you.”

  Bishop looked her in the eyes. “So who’s after us?”

  “I can’t say but I think it’s got something to do with your girlfriend. The organization has a black-listed file on her that I can’t access.”

  He nodded as he patted Daisy’s head and gazed out at the vine-covered hills flashing by. “I really didn’t expect you to come find me. Not going to forget that anytime soon.”

  “You did the same for me in Iraq.”

  “True.”

  “Bish,” interrupted Ice as he turned on to a highway. “We heading to the airport?”

  “Yep, if Saneh is looking for me I know where she’ll go.”

  “That works for me,” said Keila. “I’ll get back to work and see how I can help.”

  Bishop reached forward and grasped her shoulder. “I’m not going to forget this.”

  Keila nodded then glanced sideways at Ice. “Where you heading big guy?”

  Ice shrugged. “Someone better keep an eye on these two.” He tipped his chin in the direction of Daisy and Bishop.

  She laughed. “Well at least we know they’re in good hands.”

  CHAPTER 20

  ABU DHABI, UAE

  Saneh backed her hire car into the parking lot at the Lascar Logistics cargo terminal, grabbed a rucksack from the passenger seat and left the vehicle. Using her company ID she swiped through a gate and made her way between two hangars to a security door. A biometric scan granted her access and, for the first time since it had been shut down, she entere
d the PRIMAL hangar.

  The first thing she noticed was the absence of aircraft from the cavernous space. She guessed that Tariq had moved the Priority Movements Airlift business jet and cargo plane to another location. Then she remembered that Mitch was using the highly modified Gulfstream as a part of his new business in California.

  A lump formed in her throat as she remembered all the missions that the team had run from inside this structure. She pushed the thought from her head as she crossed the floor to the corner where transportable buildings and shipping containers had once formed an operating base.

  As she approached she noticed that only the shipping containers remained. The planning room, accommodation and gym had all been removed.

  She placed her backpack in front of a container door secured with a padlock. From her bag she took a cordless angle grinder fitted with a carbide blade. Attacking the lock with an ear-splitting shriek and shower of sparks it took her less than twenty seconds to cut it free.

  Then she took a flashlight from her pack and pulled the latch on the door to Mitch’s armory. The heavy steel door swung open with a creak. Inside, the confined spaced had been modified, most likely in preparation for shipment to the US. Gone was the wall of weapons, workbench and engineering equipment. Instead she saw plastic cases stacked deep on both sides of a narrow walkway.

  The Pelican cases were neatly labeled and it didn’t take long to find the one she wanted. Sliding the long black case out from under another crate she wheeled it from the container and cracked it open on the floor of the hangar.

  The RT-20 anti-materiel rifle inside was dismantled and packed inside laser cut foam inserts. She pried each of the parts free and snapped the weapon together. Saneh had been the first and most likely the last to fire the gun after Mitch had modified it. The technician had improved the recoilless system so it could be fired indoors. Additionally, he’d shortened the barrel, making the heavy rifle easier to handle and carry. It fired 20mm armor-piercing cartridges, six of which were included in the box. During testing the bullets had penetrated carbon nanotube armor, and more importantly, inches of bulletproof glass.

  Assembled, the weapon weighed over 40 pounds and was nearly five-foot long. She tested all the components, chambered a cartridge and lay behind the gun, tucking it into her shoulder. Comfortable that everything was in order she disassembled it and placed all the parts into her backpack. The barrel of the weapon didn’t fit inside so she put a sports sock over the muzzle. Once she’d returned the Pelican case to where she’d found it, she slung the heavy backpack over her shoulder and closed the container door.

  On the way out of the hangar she felt an overwhelming sense of loss. There was no doubt in her mind that what she was about to do would utterly destroy what relationship she still had with the PRIMAL team. Anger replaced sadness as she focused on the betrayal she’d experienced at the hands of someone she trusted. Tariq had single-handedly destroyed the life she had built and put the man she loved in danger. For that his life was forfeit.

  ***

  TEL AVIV, ISRAEL

  Asher’s finger hovered over the mouse and he exhaled slowly. His next move could well be career ending. By activating the query to locate Keila’s target, Saneh, he was directly violating an order from the Mossad Director of Special Operations to close out all of the Lascar related tasks. He had no doubt that if Lisker got wind of what he was doing, his work at 8200 was over. However, Keila was adamant that the Director was corrupt, and Asher did hate him. More to the point he really, really liked Keila.

  “Screw it,” he murmured as he activated the search. Worst case he’d get booted from 8200 and accept his best friend’s job offer.

  The query was one of the most sophisticated he’d built and probably the most effective signals intelligence capability he’d ever employed. Powerful algorithms took a seemingly dead number and checked every possible avenue to locate the user’s new device. The piece-de-resistance of the system was its ability to correlate historical tower data and identify trends regarding device linkages.

  Locking his workstation he left his office and visited the coffee machine in the foyer of his building. It made terrible coffee but he didn’t want to risk leaving the building while he was running a search.

  Moments later he was back at his desk nursing a polystyrene cup filled with lukewarm caffeinated UHT milk. Unlocking his workstation he checked the application. Much to his surprise it already had a hit. He scribbled the number on a post-it note and stuck it in his pocket. Then, out of interest, he activated an alert blocking program and ran it against the 8200 databases.

  His hunch paid off. The number was blacklisted, meaning that someone, most likely Manfred Lisker, didn’t want anyone tracking it or listening in on it.

  Ditching his coffee in a trashcan he swiped out of the secure office and collected his phone from a security locker. Once he was clear of the building he sent a text to Keila and made his way to the coffee shop. With the stress of the situation he definitely needed a decent cup.

  The coffees he’d ordered were ready at almost the same time Keila appeared. As they walked around a corner together he handed her the beverage with the post-it note slipped into the cardboard sleeve.

  “You’re the best.”

  “He’s watching this one. Be careful.”

  “Got it.”

  He waited as she sent a text from a phone then removed the sim card and snapped it in half.

  “You do know that’s not an infallible method.”

  She winked. “No one can hide from you, right?”

  “It’s not just me. Be careful.”

  “I will.”

  ***

  ABU DHABI, UAE

  Fuelled by petrodollars and foreign investment Abu Dhabi had no shortage of construction sites near Saneh’s target building. She’d chosen one a block away and overrode the security system giving her access to a loading dock. As she parked her hire car alongside stacks of construction materials a security guard approached.

  “The site is closed today,” he said once she’d lowered the window. It was Friday, a day of rest in the Emirates.

  Saneh smiled. “I’m here to review the health and safety register.”

  The man looked confused. “No one told me about–” His eyes went wide as the twin barbs of Saneh’s Taser thudded into his chest. Convulsing, he dropped to the ground.

  “Sorry,” she said as she stepped out of the car and taped his hands, feet and mouth.

  Hefting her backpack from the trunk of the car she walked past the bound security guard to a freight elevator. She chose the 56th floor of the recently constructed tower, which she’d calculated as the same height as her target. According to the development company’s website the level was destined to become offices.

  The floor she’d selected was yet to be fitted with internal walls or windows. Hot desert air swept through the open space as she unzipped her pack and removed the components of the rifle. Her hands shook as she fitted the parts together and she fought the urge to cry. Exhaling, she managed to mount the optic and power up the thermal imager.

  Lying behind the weapon she chambered one of the six-inch-long armor-piercing rounds and tucked the stock into her shoulder. Adjusting the scope she scanned her target building.

  She located Tariq Ahmed exactly where she knew he’d be, sitting behind his desk in the penthouse office of Lascar Tower. The man was a workaholic who took the responsibility of running a billion-dollar corporation personally.

  Saneh knew from her time in the office that the windows were made of two-inch-thick ballistic glass. She also knew that Mitch’s custom 20mm ammunition would slice through them like a hot knife through butter.

  The laser range finder built into her scope told her that Tariq’s back was a little over eight hundred and six yards from her weapon. That meant that once she squeezed the trigger the Arab would have less than a second of life left before the massive projectile blasted him into oblivion.

 
Tariq was a man who Saneh had admired. The first son of an Arab extremist he’d taken a stand against his father and put an end to the hate and violence. Working with Vance, Ice and Chua, he created PRIMAL, an organization that had given Saneh a second chance at life. But, he had betrayed all of that when he’d sold her out to Mossad and subsequently put Bishop’s life in danger.

  She exhaled, cleared her mind and took up the slack in the trigger.

  The trill of the burner phone Avi had provided almost caused her to fire the shot. Backing off the trigger she took the phone from her backpack and checked the screen. The number was blocked. It had to be the Mossad operative.

  She answered it. “What do you want?”

  “OK, not the response I was expecting.”

  “Bishop?” Her heart jumped. “Wait, how did you get this number?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine babe. Ice found me, with a little help from our friend in Tel Aviv.”

  Saneh swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. “Aden, I’m so sorry. I should have told you everything.”

  “Look, it’s all good. I just wanted to let you know I’m safe. I’m on my way to our lady now.”

  It took Saneh a moment to realize what he was saying. “OK, I’ll meet you there as soon as I can.”

  She felt elated as she rose from behind the weapon and ended the call. Staring at the phone for a moment she smiled and tossed it out the side of the building. Then she packed the sniper rifle and took the elevator back to the loading dock.

  As she descended Saneh was filled with hope. With Bishop rescued from Lisker’s clutches and the rest of the team enacting Exodus the two of them were free to run.

  The elevator doors opened and she stepped out into the loading dock. First things first, she needed to free the security guard. As she approached where she’d left him she immediately sensed something was wrong. The guard’s head was twisted to one side. She checked his pulse. He was dead.

  “Do I always have to clean up after you?”

  She spun and saw Avi leaning against a stack of drywall. He winked. “Hello, Saneh. I take it our mutual friend is deceased?” He had one hand behind his back, no doubt holding the pistol that would end her life once she confirmed mission success.