PRIMAL Origin Read Free

asshole getting his kicks out of playing Jihad. Whoever it is, he’s fucked up though.”
    “How so?”
    “By trying to kill us.”
    “So what’s the plan from here?” Ice asked as he wound down the window and paid the Pakistani worker who manned the parking booth.
    “We get our gear from the depot and stake out the clinic. Jihad jerk-off’s little posse are bound to do one last recon. We’ll leave the lights on and maybe they’ll still be keen to join our little party.”
     
    ***
     

 
    Chapter 3
     
    Despite being the home of over five thousand migrant workers, Abu Dhabi’s Moussaffah industrial complex was deathly quiet under the dark shroud of a moonless night. Vance had parked the Landcruiser in a side alley around the corner from the WHO clinic. Hidden from view but still positioned to allow him quick access to the street. On the seat next to him was a laptop, the screen displaying images beamed from two cameras hidden on the high walls of the WHO compound. One showed a view down the street to the front, the other covered the narrow alley that ran behind.
    Vance panned a camera to the construction site opposite the clinic. The street lighting was dim and the green hue of the infrared camera made the half-built sheds look like the skeletons of mythological creatures. A cat, hunting rats in the rubble of the building site, leapt from the top of an industrial bin, landing next to a pile of debris.
    “Here, kitty, kitty.” Ice’s voice came through over the radio.
    Vance watched the cat arch its back and streak away into the darkness. He panned the camera back over the area. “Damn, Ice, I can’t see you. I’m looking straight at that heap of crap you’re under.”
    “I’m a trash ninja,” quipped Ice. His tone changed. “Vehicle approaching.”
    A battered pickup moved down the street, its headlights off.
    Ice gripped his silenced Beretta tightly and flicked the safety off. “This looks suspect.”
    “Damn straight,” murmured Vance as he panned the camera towards the threat.
    The pickup coasted down the street, slowing in front of the clinic, and came to a halt directly opposite Ice. It paused for a second, then veered towards him, bouncing over the low curb.
    “Shit,” whispered Vance as it stopped mere feet from his hidden partner. The doors opened and two men wearing dark clothes jumped down from the cab. 
    Ice slid one hand under his body, ready to spring from his hiding spot.
    “These guys look like some sort of amateur recon party,” whispered Vance as he watched them through his camera.
    Ice clicked his transmit button once in response. One of the men was standing almost directly on top of him.
    The man closest to Ice moved around the vehicle into the shadows cast from the lights of the compound. The truck now separated them from Ice.
    The two men just stood in the shadows watching the street. Minutes passed before Ice whispered, “What’s the plan? Take one down and get the other to talk?”
    “Negative, buddy. Something’s not right: just sit tight.”
    A moment later the two men started moving around the construction site. They talked in hushed voices and used a flashlight to probe the piles of building materials.
    “I think we’ve got ourselves some lowbrow thieves,” whispered Ice.
    “Roger.”
    The two men tried to load a heavy metal beam into the back of their pickup. A set of headlights flashed down the road and they dropped it with a crash. Vance smirked as the would-be thieves clambered to find a hiding spot behind their truck. He focused the camera on the approaching vehicle. It was a Mercedes, not unusual for Abu Dhabi. “You got eyes on?” he asked over the radio.
    “Yes,” Ice whispered.
    The saloon slowed almost to a halt as it passed by. On his screen Vance could make out a faint glow on the passenger side window. It took him a second to realize what it was. A video camera!
    “These are our guys, Ice. Tag ‘em.”
    As the Mercedes accelerated away from