PRIMAL Vengeance

Chapter 55



Priority Movements Airlift Hangar, Abu Dhabi International Airport



"Are you sure you know what you're doing, Kurtz?" Bishop asked.

"Just hold still, ja!"

As soon as the bunker had informed them that Yang had tracked them to Abu Dhabi Mitch had run a scanner over Bishop and his clothing. The PRIMAL technician had found a very low frequency tracker emitting from the gunshot wound in Bishop's arm. Kurtz had immediately volunteered to remove the device, claiming he was a qualified advanced medic during his GSG9 days. With Aleks assisting, they proceeded to use the hangar's waiting room as a makeshift surgery.

"Aleks, give me the injection," asked Kurtz.

The big man passed him a pre-packaged local anesthetic.

Kurtz plunged the injection into Bishop's arm.

"F*ck me! What are you, a goddamn horse doctor? It's my arm, not a cow's arse."

"Du bist ein Mädchen."

Aleks laughed.

"What did he say?"

"He says you are a girl."

"Hmmph, fair enough. Now give me another scotch."

"Nein," Kurtz said shaking his hand. Alcohol will mix with the local anesthetic and make you sleepy."

"No, we don't want that. I've got to find that bastard Yang."

"Can you feel this?" Kurtz asked poking his finger into the stitched wound in Bishop's shoulder."

"Nope!"

"Perfect." Despite his lankiness, Kurtz could have been a surgeon. He cut the stitches and opened the wound with a deft hand. Then he reached into the hole with a pair of forceps and drew out the tracker, dropping it into the plastic container that Aleks was holding.

The device was the size of a large vitamin capsule. The Russian squirted it clean with a jet of saline solution and handed it to Mitch.

The technician gave a low whistle. "This is state-of-the-art, lads. You'd expect something like this out of the NSA or GCHQ, not the bloody ChiComs." He opened a small metal box and dropped it inside, shielding the signal. "I'll give it the once over when we get back to the Bunker. Might be worth getting a few of our own."

Kurtz closed the wound in Bishop's arm with a row of neat tight stitches. A bandage completed the treatment. "There. Good as new."

Bishop grasped his friend's shoulder with his good arm. "You're a good man to have around, Kurtz."

The German beamed.

The door to the room opened and Mirza entered. "I checked the perimeter. No sign of Yang or any of his men."

Mitch nodded. "I don't think they were able to get an accurate fix on the signal. It would have led them to Abu Dhabi but that's it. My guess, one of the sensors at the Chinese Embassy got a sniff of it on the flight in, but inside the aluminum walls of this hangar the signal would have been cut off."

"They know we came in by aircraft though. That narrows it down," stated Mirza. "And Yang knows we use the tilt-rotor.

"True," said Bishop. "Yang will probably be looking for Dragonfly."

Mirza was deep in thought as he took a bottle of water from the fridge. "I know I have only been with PRIMAL for a year, but this is the closest I've seen to our organization being compromised. If it weren't for the airport security, the Chinese would definitely have surprised us."

A new voice interrupted them. "Wouldn't be hard, gentlemen. What with no one keeping watch," said Tariq Ahmed. Dressed in one of his signature European-cut suits the head of Lascar Logistics was standing in the doorway stroking his perfectly manicured beard. In his other hand he held an exquisite brown leather briefcase.

"It helps if you have the keys," said Bishop, jumping out of his chair to grasp Tariq's hand.

"Always making excuses, Aden. I trust you're bug-free now?"

"Thanks to Kurtz I'm clean as a whistle. It's good to see you again, Tariq."

"Yes, it's good to see you all. But let's cut to business." Tariq pulled up a chair and sat down, placing the briefcase on the table. "Your friend, Mr Yang Tan, PLA Second Department, currently seconded to PETROCON, arrived in Abu Dhabi at 1030 hours yesterday on a Qatar Airways flight direct from Khartoum. Interestingly he entered my country under the name Tran Wang."

He reached into the briefcase and pulled out an A4 photograph showing Yang's face. Bishop picked it up off the table.

"No doubt about it, that's our boy," Bishop confirmed. "He must have jumped on a flight as soon as we bugged out."

"It would seem that way. Chua had him added to our watch list earlier in the week. He would have slipped through unnoticed except for the new facial recognition software."

"So what the hell happened at the airport?" asked Bishop. "Why wasn't he detained?"

"He attacked and disarmed two of the airport guards. One of them has a broken arm. The other will never walk again."

"Yeah, he's one lethal little bastard. So did you track him?"

Tariq shook his head. "He was picked up by a car and escaped towards the Chinese quarter."

"So he's got a support base here."

"Abu Dhabi has a large population of Chinese workers. I have no doubt some of them are Chinese Intelligence. If you want I can mobilize my people to find him. I still have a significant amount of influence over Special Branch operations."

"What will Special Branch do if they find him?" Bishop asked.

"He will simply disappear in the desert. It has happened many times before."

Bishop went cold. "No! PRIMAL will find him and I will ensure he tells us everything about his Sudanese operations. Then I will finish him personally."

"It should be easy enough," Tariq said. "You already have the upper hand."

"How is that?" asked Kurtz. "We have no idea where he is in the city."

"Don't you? I mean you know exactly what he's looking for." The Arab turned for the door. "Gentlemen, I must return to my duties. If there's anything you need please contact my office."

"Just one more thing, Tariq," said Bishop.

"Yes?"

"Can you get us one of your special police vehicles, the black G55s?"

Tariq smiled. "Of course. If someone drives me back to my office, you can have the one parked in front of this hangar."