WHATEVER THE COST: A Mark Cole Thriller Read Free

him, his nails dragging across skin, clothing –
    And then he felt the cold steel of the blade against his throat, felt the sharp edge dig into the fragile skin there, dig and cut straight across, and finally he tried to scream, although it was too late for that, too late for anything except to watch his own blood spray from his severed throat into the black sea beyond.
     
    Arief Suprapto looked down at the dead man at his feet, arterial spray covering the steel railings, regretful that he’d had to die.
    He was regretful, yet not remorseful; it wasn’t a moral problem at all. It was just that he preferred to capture people alive, as the more crew members they were able to hold hostage, the more money they could make.
    But this man had a gun, which made him a threat which needed to be eliminated; even if Suprapto had managed to subdue him without killing him, in his experience men with guns could be troublesome even after they’d been disarmed. And so Suprapto had a standing order among his men that anyone with a weapon should be killed instantly. It negated future threats, and sent a direct and very clear message to the rest of the crew.
    Don’t fuck with us. We mean business.
    Who needed words when you had actions?
    He received the all-clear from his men over his radio earpiece; the amateurish guards were down all over the ship, and the first phase of the plan was complete.
    Suprapto smiled; just because he was called a pirate didn’t mean that he wore an eye patch, carried a parrot on his shoulder and used a cutlass. On the contrary, his men were armed to the teeth with cutting edge weaponry, sourced by an agent who had access to vast stockpiles on the Southeast Asian mainland. Thailand, Cambodia, Vietnam, Laos – there was more military-grade equipment freely available there than almost anywhere else on the planet.
    And it wasn’t just weapons either; his men had night-vision devices, secure communications gear, advanced surveillance equipment and – most importantly for sea-faring pirates – high-speed, near-silent attack boats, stealthy craft which could transport a crew of armed men quickly and without detection.
    Suprapto had led his pirate gang since he was seventeen, nearly thirty years ago now; and he had taken command in the traditional way, by violently killing the previous captain and thus earning the respect of the battle-hardened men he now controlled. Respect that had lasted for three successful decades, an unusually long time for this sort of job.
    But Suprapto was ruthless, a quality he prided himself on above all others; if he survived, it was only because he was prepared to do more – torture more, scheme more, plan more, kill more – than any of the pretenders to his crown.
    And that was truly how he saw himself – with a crown, the King of Pirates like his hero Liang Dao Ming, who had run roughshod over the area seven hundred years ago with thousands of loyal followers.
    But now wasn’t the time for grandstanding, Suprapto recognized as he checked the luminous dial of his diver’s watch.
    Now was the time for phase two of the assault plan.
    He almost felt sorry for the crew.
    Almost .

4
    ‘Where is the ship now?’
    The question was asked by a man whose small stature and feminine voice belied the enormous power he wielded, and his sociopathic ability to use that power without consideration for how it would affect others. To Lieutenant General U Chun-su, Director of North Korea’s Reconnaissance General Bureau, people were merely pawns to be used in the worldwide game of espionage and counter-espionage; a game he enjoyed enormously.
    ‘The ship is on course,’ came the reply from Major Ho Sang-ok, who – despite the power he wielded over his own domain – stood rigidly to attention in front of his superior. Ho was in charge of the RGB’s Third Bureau, known as Office No. 35 due to its location in a former office of the Korean Workers’ Party headquarters. Charged with the