PRIMAL Vengeance

Chapter 10



PRIMAL HQ, Lascar Island



Saneh slowed the ATV as they left the beach and bounced onto the apron of Lascar Island's single runway. Checking for aircraft, she accelerated across the tarmac and into one of the two hangars cut into the side of the extinct volcano that towered over the airfield.

An abandoned Japanese World War Two base, the island now masqueraded as a maintenance and refuelling depot for Lascar Logistics, an international air freight company owned by the founder of PRIMAL. It was here, thousands of miles from any prying eyes, that PRIMAL staged its operations.

The irony of a covert organization basing itself on an abandoned island with its headquarters deep within the bowels of an extinct volcano was lost on Saneh. Growing up in Iran she had missed out on Bond villains and the Thunderbirds TV series. To her the concept made sense. Where else in the world could PRIMAL hide without being exposed?

They entered the hangar and drove under the wing of a Lascar cargo aircraft, stopping for a moment at the back wall. There was a whir of electric motors and two portions of the wall separated, wide enough for the buggy to enter.

On the other side of the doors was a vast cavern the size of a football field. Carved from volcanic rock it once housed Japanese bombers. Now it was the home of PRIMAL's own fleet of aircraft. Present in the hangar was a heavily modified Il-76 transport aircraft that the PRIMAL team called The Pain Train. The giant airframe was a surveillance platform, transporter, signals intelligence collector and when required, a gunship. Parked with its nose under the wing of the hulking jet was a Gulfstream business jet. Saneh noted that a number of PRIMAL's latest aircraft were not in the hangar. It was possible they had already been positioned in Abu Dhabi.

She stopped the buggy at the back of the hangar, in front of a large service elevator. The pair swiped their access cards and rode the lift down. It stopped on the first floor.

"Make sure you come see me once you're done." Saneh gave Bishop a kiss on the cheek before exiting the lift into the accommodation level.

"You still going to be wearing those pants?" Bishop quipped, clamping his fingers over his nose.

"Just for you, soldier boy." Saneh laughed as the doors closed.

Bishop stepped out of the lift on the third floor, swiped his way through a secure access point and entered the Bunker.

The actual operations room was almost empty. A few of the staff were sitting in front of their terminals but the primary display screens were all blank. He glanced over at the intelligence team, two analysts were hard at work.

"Chua and Vance are in the big man's office," the watchkeeper said without looking up from a book he was reading. Clearly there was nothing going on at the moment.

"Cheers, Tom." Bishop walked across the operations floor to the staff offices. He knocked on the one that boldly declared 'The Boss'.

"Come in!" Vance, the Director of Operations, bellowed.

Bishop pushed the door open and stepped into the spartan office. Vance was not one for covering his walls in memorabilia and all that 'crap' as he eloquently described it.

"Bish, how ya doin', buddy?" Vance jumped up from behind his desk and pumped Bishop's arm vigorously. The former CIA operative was an ox of a man, built like Mike Tyson complete with shaved head and biceps like coconuts.

"Yeah, I'm OK. Healed up pretty good." Bishop's run-in with the Chinese operative on the 'Tian Hai' had left him battered. He had spent an entire day in the PRIMAL medical bay undergoing a thorough exam by the resident doctor.

"Hey, Chua," Bishop acknowledged PRIMAL's Chief of Intelligence sitting across the room.

"Aden," responded Chen Chua.

"So, what's the go, guys? Things kicking off in Africa?"

"You picked it, buddy," said Vance. "Chua, fill Bish in on the details."

"Right away." Chua took a sip from a can of energy drink then activated the LED screen on the wall of the office. A screen saver of Sports Illustrated models was replaced with a map of Eastern Africa.

Bishop could not help but smile as the map exploded with graphics. Animated icons highlighted important locations, recent activity appearing with call outs denoting the key stakeholders. Chua was a master of all things geeky; the former US Army intelligence officer loved technology. Technology and energy drinks. The Chinese American downed them like he was a college kid knocking back beers in Cancun.

"Considering your last mission, sinking the freighter, I'm going to jump straight in to the new stuff. OK?" the intel officer asked.

Bishop gave Chua a nod.

"In the past week we've been getting a lot of reports from the disputed Abyei district between South Sudan and Sudan actual."

"Disputed? I thought South Sudan won control of the area through UN run elections? What is there to dispute?" asked Bishop.

"Khartoum is ignoring the result of the referendum. They're calling the election a sham and as a result they've been increasing their clandestine militia capability in the oil-rich region. I did a bit of a deep dive into the situation and reporting indicates that violence in the area has increased significantly with at least five villages raided. The UN estimates that close to 30,000 refugees have fled south from the border. Media interviews with refugees lead me to believe that the raiding parties are Janjaweed militias."

"F*ck, so the raid on the 'Tian Hai' was a waste of time," said Bishop.

"No, not at all. Khartoum was intending to raise an armored brigade to bully South Sudan into giving up the oil fields. By sinking the 'Tian Hai' you denied them that capability."

"Yeah, but instead they're sending Janjaweed scum out to murder and rape."

Vance jumped in. "Bish, look at it this way. We can work against AK-waving horsemen. I ain't about to throw you and Mirza up against heavy armor."

"Is Mirza already in country?"

"He hit the ground in Juba this morning. Some of this info has come from his observations," said Vance. "He's laying the groundwork. We need you to punch in and hook up with one of the more effective southern resistance groups."

"There are number in the area," added Chua. "I've been getting whispers of a new group that's led by a former American soldier. Haven't got a name yet but Mirza is tracking him down."

"Former US Army. A deserter?" asked Bishop.

"Probably not," said Chua. "Quite a few families fled the region in the mid eighties and were given refugee status in the US. It's probable that he served in the US military and then returned to help protect his people from extermination."

"Pretty worthy cause. Khartoum doesn't seem to be hiding the fact that it wants all of the Christian tribes pushed out of the area or exterminated so they can grab the oil. This guy could be the perfect means to stop the Janjaweed."

"Exactly," agreed Chua.

"What about the Chinese. Are they involved in this or was the 'Tian Hai' a one-off?"

"They're in neck deep," said Chua. "The CIA head of station in Juba submitted a report last night. His sources are telling him the ChiComs are bankrolling the entire operation."

Bishop shook his head. How the hell Chua managed to get CIA reports, probably before Langley had read them, amazed him. The little guy might be teetotalling and risk adverse, he thought, but goddamn, he was good at his job.

"So that fat bastard Omar is probably dancing on the end of a Chinese leash," said Bishop.

"Correct. These Chinese businessmen are experts in influence and manipulation. They will be controlling all the key players and unlike some Western countries they aren't afraid to use bribery—or violence."

"So, no doubt they will be up-gunning the Janjiwankers?" said Bishop.

"Yes, I assess they'll be flying in light equipment. Vehicles, small arms and some heavy support weapons like mortars and machine-guns," said Chua.

"More than enough firepower to wipe out lightly armed freedom fighters." Bishop turned to Vance. "So what's the plan?"

"Pretty simple, buddy. We punch you in to hook up with Mirza. You ID and recruit a suitable team of local fighters, kit them up, train them and smack up the Janjaweed."

"It does sound like something the Company should be all over..."

"Negative. They've got their hands full chasing Al Qaeda around in Somalia and every other Timbuktu shit hole. China got in first on this one and the CIA is taking a back seat. Gotta remember who's lending them their cash." As a former CIA operative Vance still had his finger on the pulse of the US spy agency.

"Roger," Bishop said. "Sounds like a decent job. Happy to run with it."

"Yeah I thought it might be your sort of gig. Mitch and the Dragonfly will be in support. He's already stockpiled weapons in Abu Dhabi, courtesy of our Ukrainian friend."

Following a successful mission in Ukraine PRIMAL now had an arms dealer under their control. The man had access to bulk supplies of almost any weapon system they wanted.

"Excellent. What about other stakeholders?" asked Bishop. "Does the UN have much of a presence in the area?"

"They have observers and some humanitarian aid types, but they're hopelessly undermanned and have their hands full trying to control the refugees," explained Chua. "China has vetoed any move to increase their numbers, and as long as it's in their interest to keep the UN hamstrung, that's not going to change."

"Good old blue caps, about as useful as tits on a bull," said Bishop.

"I disagree. It's not the UN at all," Chua said. "With a few thousand more troops they could probably keep the peace. The problem is with China vetoing every attempt to bring in more soldiers and equipment."

Bishop glanced at Vance in surprise. The PRIMAL commander nodded. Maybe he had a point, Bishop thought, although it irked him to think the UN could achieve anything useful.

"So what are we going to do about that? I mean apart from taking down the Janjaweed?"

"Chua and I are working on that. Our biggest priority is to get you on the ground to stop the killing. There's a Lascar flight due in for a refuel in the next two hours. That should get you to Abu D by tonight. Hook up with Mitch and he will bang you into Juba where Mirza will RV with you."

Chua pointed at the flat screen detailing the mission information. "I'll forward you the latest intel pack. You can check it out on the flight."

"No dramas." Bishop shook hands with both men and exited the office. He did a rough time breakdown in his head. Two hours was not a lot of time to pack his gear and squeeze in a visit to Saneh. He hit the lift button for the first floor smiling to himself. Maybe he would just grab his drag bag. It had most of the things he needed and Mitch could sort out anything he missed. Yep, that would work, he thought, as he made a bee-line for Saneh's suite.