The Winged Dagger (Matt Drake 32), page 12
‘I don’t wanna die this way.’
‘What? In a rotten forest, near a criminal arms market, in a country many thousands of miles away from your home? That sounds like a mercs lot to me. Mercs do that every day.’
‘I mean tied to a tree being shouted at by an Australian.’
Drake’s mouth fell open. ‘Australian? You need to get the potatoes washed out of your ears, mate.’
Russo shook his head in confusion.
‘Listen,’ Drake went on. ‘There’s a different aspect to all this, right? The paymaster has to hire mercenaries in the first place. Where does he get them from?’
‘How will that help you?’
Because they will have personal contact information for the paymaster, Drake thought, but didn’t say aloud. ‘Is it a reputable place?’ he knew that many mercenary firms, like Bryant’s agency, for example, were very much legitimate and some even worked for the government.
Russo snorted. ‘You’re kidding, right? They’re the exact opposite of a reputable operation. Most don’t even know they exist. Apophis are the deadly, evil twin of security services worldwide.’
Which was probably why Drake had never heard of them.
‘Tell me all about them,’ he said.
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
Dahl, Mai, and Kenzie took their time assessing the slave auction. Even before they went inside, they could tell it was an evil place. They could tell by the lifeless faces of the guards who manned it, by their willingness to hurt other people who were essentially just like them. A soulless atmosphere hung all around; it hung over the door like a grey, dismal cloak.
And when Mai walked inside, she felt it hit her in the face with a severe blow.
Her skin crawled. She spotted only men in here, eight to the right and four to the left, seated in separate rows as if they needed to be apart from each other. Mai could well believe it. The aura of evil they emanated was palpable.
That said, she needed to get a feel for the operation. They’d stationed Dahl and Kenzie outside, pretending to peruse a gun stall nearby, but available on the comms. She sat at the back of the tent so that none of the buyers knew she was there.
In front, a raised stage carpeted with black fabric ran the length of the tent. Mai stayed and watched for as long as she could bear it, which was about five minutes. During that time, she saw three men and two women led out with chains around their necks and wrists. They were paraded along the stage as if it were a catwalk, turned and displayed, and then made to talk briefly. Mai could hardly stand to watch. The victims looked beat down, even though there were no obvious bruises on their bodies. Some looked as if they’d been drugged to keep them in line. Others appeared too frightened to resist.
Mai slipped out of the entrance. She beckoned Dahl and Kenzie over.
‘They’re bringing them in through the back,’ she said. ‘They’re removing them through the same door. Those they sell go the same way, so will probably be collected later. There must be some kind of holding pen back there.’
Dahl and Kenzie had already explored. ‘There’s a chain-link fence with a sturdy gate. Three more tents inside. I guess one will be the holding tent, another where they put those who sell. The third tent will be for the management.’
Mai couldn’t prevent a scowl. ‘We take them out first. Set the slaves free. We have to time it so the authorities are on their way.’
‘Which ones?’ Dahl said. ‘Don’t forget, some people will already know about this.’
‘Then we call them all,’ Mai said. ‘And the media, too. Maybe the humiliation will stop anything like this from happening on these shores again.’
Dahl pursed his lips, clearly about to say something like: I doubt it, but then changed his mind. He said nothing. He held Mai’s eyes.
‘No time like the present.’
Kenzie sighed. ‘He’s desperate to attack someone because Drake’s off having all the fun.’
Mai nodded. ‘Yes, he is. I’m ready.’
Together, they made calls to the authorities and then started off toward the slave tent, threading their way through the crowd. They already had the guns and ammo they’d purchased yesterday. They skirted the tent. Mai saw for the first time the security fence erected at the back. It was about eight feet high and chain-link. There was a sturdy gate halfway along, manned by a guard. Mai turned quickly to Kenzie.
‘Try to look meek. Subservient.’
The Israeli raised an eyebrow. ‘That’s not in my wheelhouse.’
‘I know. But it’s that or we don’t get in.’
‘How about you try to look meek?’
Mai just laughed at that. ‘As if,’ she shook her head. ‘Just do it.’
She didn’t give the Israeli any more time, just grabbed her arm and dragged her alongside the fence. By the time they reached the gate, Kenzie was staring at her own feet, shoulders shaking.
‘Got another one,’ Mai told the guard. ‘Late pick up.’
‘Never heard that one before.’ the guard was a dark-skinned man who held his gun across folded arms, pointed at the sky. ‘Who do you work for?’
‘Jack,’ Dahl said impatiently. ‘He’s a friend of Bob’s.’
The guard frowned. ‘Never heard of either of them.’
‘Hey, man,’ Mai whined. ‘We just wanna get paid.’
It was so ludicrous, it might just work. Why not? There were more ludicrous things happened in government, for starters. They were banking on the guard’s lack of interest and ethics. I mean, Mai thought. Look who they work for.
The guard nodded and started fumbling with the gate lock. He got the code wrong twice before cracking it and then pulling the gate wide open. ‘Do as you wish,’ he said. ‘No skin off my nose.’
Mai led Kenzie and Dahl into the compound. It was barely larger than the three tents that occupied it. As they walked, they saw another four men and women being led from the main tent to another. These people slumped along with their heads down and no hope. It was a terrible position that they were in.
Mai walked straight up to the tent they believed housed the management. She grabbed hold of one side and pulled it apart. She ducked her head and walked inside.
A strange sight met her eyes.
There were three guards standing about the place, holding weapons at ease. There were four men lounging in plush armchairs, two of them grossly overweight. The armchairs were deepest purple, with arms of rolled gold and seatbacks that made them look like thrones, the legs carved and filigreed. The men sat back holding middle eastern hookah pipes; the tubes trailing from their mouths to the pumpkin pots. Smoke drifted through the room, and a sweet scent. Kneeling close to the four men were two guys and two women, all with despondent looks on their faces.
Behind the four men was a long rectangular table where one more man sat. Papers littered the table. He was the only one working and looked up in irritation at the interruption.
‘Yes?’
Mai had seen enough. She didn’t hesitate. She drew her gun and shot the four lounging men in their stomachs. Mai left Dahl and Kenzie to deal with the three guards. They whipped out their own weapons and fired too, the combined noise of the handguns thunderous in the enclosed space. None of the guards got a shot off.
But the man at the table was quicker than they’d given him credit for.
Instead of reaching for a gun, he leapt off his seat and raced for a flap at the rear of the tent. Mai squared his fleeing back up in her sights. The man squeezed through the canvas. Mai tracked his running shadow through the tent’s material, following it with her gun. She fired two seconds later, and the shadow went down.
An uproar filled the compound and, probably, the souk. Mai shot the four slave marketeers again and then shouted at the slaves to get the hell out. She ran back out of the tent. To left and right, guards were running aimlessly as if looking for the source of the commotion. And despite their terrible choice of profession, they were just guards. Mai wouldn’t hurt them if she didn’t have to.
She led Dahl and Kenzie to the first of the slave tents. The interior was filled with cages that were barely large enough to contain a human. Mai’s stomach churned to see the people confined in there, at least eight, in just this small space. Other slaves stood around or were sitting on top of their cages, as if getting ready to be sold. Mai raised her voice.
‘You’re free,’ she shouted in English and then in Japanese and finally in the only other language she knew — Arabic. ‘Pass it on. We’ve freed you. Pass it on. Go.’
She watched as Kenzie and Dahl moved further into the tent. They’d spied a guard near the back. That man was now tracking them with a weapon. Mai left them to it, knowing they’d be fine. She backed out of the tent.
Straight into an oncoming guard.
‘What is happening?’ he asked in broken English.
Mai still had another tent to attend to, and this entire operation was rapidly falling apart. She spun in place, kicked out, and struck the guard across the face with her boot. He twisted as he fell to the ground. She reached down, grabbed his weapon and smashed him across the forehead with it, knocking him out. The guard didn’t breathe another word.
She moved on.
To the final tent, the one they’d assumed was where sold slaves were prepared for their new owners. She ran to the entrance and drew the flap aside. The interior was a surprise – it was full of sumptuous draperies and thick Persian carpets, a blast of colour, mostly gold and purple. This would be where the new owners collected their new possessions then.
Mai took it all in quickly. She saw eight slaves, all dressed in new clothes, the women wearing their makeup; the men with assorted jewellery that flashed under the lights. They were all freshly groomed. A tall woman stood among them, eyeing them critically as if making them presentable was her responsibility. Four guards hulked around the tent menacingly. Mai also saw two more men, both dressed impeccably in white suits. Both were on their phones and making deals. Both eyed the slaves with utter disdain.
‘That one,’ one of the white-suited men spat. ‘She isn’t sitting to attention. Whip her so that she understands.’
Mai shot him first, right through the face.
The guards snapped to it. Mai took two down before having to duck out of the way. The interior of the tent erupted into mayhem. Mai used the sudden press of bodies, the flashing legs, to dart in closer to the two remaining guards. She was a whirling, whizzing shape among the crowd, sprinting and nipping left and right, and then she was in their faces.
She shot the first, took his knife from his belt and threw it at the second. Both men slithered lifelessly to the ground. By her reckoning, there was just one more man to kill. The other white-suited bastard.
She shouted out loud, repeating the words she spoke in the other tent. Above the tumult, she made herself heard. She found it interesting that, when she found the other white-suited man, he was already on his knees amid the slaves, and he was already bloody.
She trained her gun on him.
‘A bullet’s too good for you,’ she said, and nodded at them.
She would have done it if they couldn’t, but the wrongs that had been visited upon the slaves were manifold, and now they saw a way to get some revenge. At least a few of them did. Mai watched as a core of about five took the white-suited man’s life and left him broken atop his own gaudy Persian carpet.
‘Authorities are coming,’ Mai said. ‘We’ve closed this place down. You should wait for them here.’ Again, she asked for translations to those who might not speak her language. This was a wide mix of broken men and women. The authorities would certainly have their hands full.
Mai exited the tent. Dahl and Kenzie were on their way across the compound. They nodded at her questioning expression.
‘All good,’ the Swede said.
Mai looked around at the virtuous chaos they’d caused. ‘Shall we get the hell out of Morocco?’ she asked.
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
Drake studied the room. ‘What do we know?’ he asked.
They were staying at a hotel in Seville, in Spain, a stone’s throw from Morocco but far enough away to stay under the radar and out of trouble. They had gathered in Hayden’s room and were lounging around in various states of preparedness. Bryant was aware of everything that had happened, and was quietly helping to ensure the authorities looked after the freed slaves as they should.
Drake looked at Alicia, Hayden and Kinimaka. ‘Tell me what you found out from your men.’
‘Pretty much the same as you,’ Alicia said. ‘It’s a kidnap and stalking ring. Hunters prey on innocent civilians. Wealthy individuals pay to hunt them. This paymaster guy really needs taking down.’
They’d already gone through it all once. Drake was just making sure. ‘We do not know who these people were or what happens to them afterwards,’ he said. ‘All we know is that the paymaster has been doing this for years, all around the world.’
‘Don’t forget Villiers,’ Alicia said. ‘He sounds like someone I’d really like to punch.’
‘Yeah, Villiers is just as guilty as the paymaster,’ Drake said. ‘The trip to Morocco has helped.’
‘And we have details of some of the paymaster’s job locations,’ Hayden said. ‘Cross-referenced. We can at least link them to the paymaster’s travels.’
‘But most important of all,’ Drake said. ‘Apophis. The anti-agency, if you like. Apophis needs investigating.’
‘You think they’re a kind of shadow agency?’ Dahl asked. ‘Providing shady personnel to equally shady clients?’
‘I think that’s exactly what they are,’ Drake said. ‘Apophis could be the key to cracking all of this wide open.’
‘Only if they lead us to the paymaster,’ Hayden said.
Drake was sitting at the room’s only desk, looking at the bed where several of them were sitting. By the window, Dahl and Kenzie stood with their backs to the glass, severe expressions on their faces. The harsh reality of what they all faced hadn’t slipped away from them.
Alicia was standing by the door. ‘Where are Apophis based?’ she asked.
‘Well, Bryant came through with that,’ Hayden said. ‘All these agencies have to be based somewhere. They need a physical site, I guess. At least, on the surface, they need to look legit. Apophis are based in Egypt.’
‘Then that’s where we go,’ Dahl said. ‘If it leads us to the paymaster and these hunts he’s leading.’
Drake agreed. ‘Egypt’s a pretty big place,’ he said. ‘Can we narrow it down?’
‘Yeah, like I said. Bryant tracked them down. I have an address in Cairo.’
‘Nice,’ Dahl approved. ‘We can get lost in Cairo.’
Drake agreed. He looked around the room and was pleased to see looks of determination on all their faces. After all, the paymaster was concerned chiefly with him. All this information, and they still didn’t have much of a clue who he was.
But they would find out in Cairo.
Drake was sure of it.
‘Let’s get gone,’ he said.
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
Cairo, with its nine million plus inhabitants, its lively markets, uncountable museums and Baladi drinking dens, is always abuzz. Referred to as the ‘mother of the world’ by Egyptians, it is a twenty-four-hour city rich in culture, a city famed for being close to the incredible pyramids.
Drake wasn’t interested in the tourist traps. He wasn’t even interested in Cairo. What he was interested in was a small part of it – the offices of Apophis.
They landed and made their way to a pre-booked hotel that sat just a few blocks away from the private security establishment. Darkness had fallen by now across Cairo. Lights illuminated much of the city and the pyramids close by. The streets were choked with traffic. They inched closer and closer to the hotel, and then they decided to walk the rest of the way. They settled in and met half an hour later down in the hotel lobby.
‘I’d prefer to do this tonight,’ Drake said, sitting down. ‘But I think we need to do it properly. Apophis will have to be assessed.’
Hayden nodded her head. ‘Starting tomorrow,’ she said. ‘Although we could take a quick look tonight.’
They couldn’t help themselves and went out as a group, wandered up and down the street where Apophis held offices. They saw a grey building with many front windows, a security gate and high walls. The roof was flat, the grounds small and protected.
Drake noticed the CCTV cameras, the security lights, and barred windows. On the surface at least, Apophis appeared to be serious about their Cairo refuge.
‘What do you reckon?’ Dahl asked as they returned to the hotel.
‘Two options,’ Hayden said. ‘A full frontal daylight attack. Perilous, but at least we’d be able to grab some personnel. Or... a sneaky night time penetration. It’d give us plenty of time to search their records.’
‘I’m not known for my sneaky penetrations,’ Alicia said. ‘I like ‘em big and bold.’
Drake ignored her. ‘I prefer the latter option,’ he said. ‘At least to start with. If it doesn’t work...’ he shrugged. ‘We go big.’
The night air was dry. A layer of sand rested on the pavement and the road and was lying in clumps at the kerbs. The street was busy; the road still full of cars and ablaze with their bright headlights. Drake and the others slowed as the entrance to their hotel came up.
‘We start in the morning,’ Hayden said. ‘Get a good night’s sleep.’
*
They procured several items from another of Bryant’s contacts in the area. They already knew Bryant had associates and acquaintances throughout the world – ninety-five per cent of which were connected to his high-flying security agency – and that they only had to ask to be put in touch. In Cairo, it was another security agency, this one on the other side of town and with a far better reputation than Apophis.
