PRIMAL Reckoning (Book 1 in the Redemption Trilogy, the PRIMAL Series Book 5) Read Free Page B

how it goes. If anyone credible is even thinking about running it, we need
to intervene.”
    “Not a
problem, sir. It might also be worth having a word with her editor.”
    “I’ll put
some of the boys onto it. I want you to focus on making sure nothing stops the
mine from expanding. We need to be pulling three tons of ore out of the ground
a day by June.”
    “Understood.
We’ve only got a handful of farms left on the southern side. It ain’t gonna be
a problem.”
    “Good to
hear. Has the equipment you ordered arrived?”
    “Yes, sir.
I appreciate the espresso machine. That was a nice touch.”
    “Not a problem.
Anyhow, I’m sure you have it all well in hand. Check in with me in a couple of
days.”
    “Will do.”
    The line
went dead. Pershing selected a number from the speed dial menu and activated it.
“Where are you at with that contact I sent through?”
    “I’ve got
all her selectors on cover. She as much as farts near a device and you’ll know
about it.”
    “That’s
charming. You got anything else?”
    “Nope,
not hearing squat from any of our resistance friends from the church.”
    “No?
That’s unfortunate.”
    “Shit man,
you’ve been there and dealt with them haven’t you?”
    “I need
to go.” They were nearly at the mine.
    “Hey look,
this isn’t a one way street, bro. You need to pass me some intel or my boss is
going to get suspect.”
    Pershing
brushed dust from his Stetson. “How about something on the Sinaloa ?”
    “That should
do it.”
    “I’ll see
what I can do.” Pershing terminated the call as they drove through the security
checkpoint at the mine’s entrance. “Burro, get me some intel on the Sinaloa,” he
said to the cartel lieutenant who was sitting in the front passenger seat nursing
his head. “Something good. ”

 
    CHAPTER 1

 
    LASCAR ISLAND

 
    Bishop typed into a chat window on his
laptop. Hey mate, what’s up? He was
communicating with his fellow PRIMAL operative, Mirza Mansoor.
    His computer beeped as a response came
in. I’m good, mission success. I’ll be
back in a day or so.
    Bishop was sitting in the recreation room
on the accommodation level of PRIMAL’s underground facility in the southwest
Pacific. Two floors above him, in PRIMAL’s command center, the operations staff
were running covert missions across the globe. Only a few days earlier, the
Bunker, as it was known, was supporting his own operation against a Yakuza sex-trafficking
clan in Japan.
    The
laptop beeped again. Sorry to hear about
Kurtz.
    He had
tried to push the former German policeman from his mind. A member of his team
in Japan, Kurtz had gone AWOL after a particularly traumatic mission. Bishop
blamed himself. He had been forced to shoot a young girl who Kurtz had cared
for. The incident cost them a PRIMAL operative and, although he was loathe to
admit it, a friend he cared about.
    He kept
typing. How about that trip to New York? I’ve
already cleared it with Vance. He looked forward to getting away from the
island, from PRIMAL, and from the stress that came with covert operations.
    When?
    I’m flying today. You can meet me there.
    There was
a pause before Mirza responded. What is
it you say… I’m in like Flynn.
    He laughed
as he typed. Yankees or Jets?
    What about Broadway or the Guggenheim?
    He fought
the urge to heckle Mirza. Plenty of time
to get your culture fix. As long as we hit a Yankees game, it’s all good.
    Bish, I have to run. Will meet you in New
York. Stay safe.
    He managed
a smile. This trip was exactly what he needed. He opened a website and started browsing
for tickets to the Yankees. He ignored the sound of the door opening as he
searched for the best seats.
    Chen
Chua, PRIMAL’s chief of intelligence, walked to the fridge and helped himself
to a can of energy drink. The slightly-built Chinese American had a folder
tucked under one arm. “Planning the trip?”
    “Yep. Mirza’s
coming, he’s pretty excited.”
    “He
should be, New York is the