Savages: A Jason King Thriller (The Jason King Files Book 3) Page 17

  ‘You won’t retaliate?’

  ‘I can’t promise you anything,’ Brody said. ‘I just … need to know.’

  ‘We were screwed regardless. You knew that as well as I did. Even if we threw the fight and got away … there always would have been that tension hanging there. The mine isn’t far from your compound.’

  ‘I can’t stay there,’ Brody said. ‘No matter what happens from this point. Even if everything works out perfectly. The suits will hire new muscle. They’ll always have a problem with me. I’ve caused them enough trouble already — and that’s not counting what happens over the next few days.’

  King rolled the rapid sequence of events over in his mind for what felt like the millionth time. ‘We need Rex back.’

  ‘You think he’ll agree to sweep this under the rug if we get him back?’

  ‘I seriously doubt it. But I owe him that much.’

  ‘You don’t owe him a thing. It was his stupid decision to come here when he wasn’t needed.’

  ‘And it was my stupid decision to take a cage fight. Lars warned me so many times about how dangerous the Congo is. And I didn’t listen. I never should have left the compound — none of this would have happened.’

  ‘Then blame me for that. I encouraged you. You’re young and dumb. I should have known better.’

  ‘Doesn’t matter. We’re here now.’

  ‘You think we can arrange a swap?’

  King glanced across at Brody. ‘I think you know that lot better than I do. Would Wyatt do it?’

  ‘Probably. That group’s been together for as long as I can remember. I don’t think this guy’s disposable. I think he means something to them.’

  ‘You think they’ll realise they’ve got their hands on an American diplomat? You think Rex will tell them?’

  ‘I’ve seen those types before. Men like Wyatt. I’m sure you have too. They wouldn’t care if it was the President. Their egos are too large. They think they’re gods out here. Because there’s no rules. Because they can dump the body in the depths of whichever mine they’re being paid to protect and no-one will ever be able to amass the proof to prosecute. Not that they would prosecute, even if they found the body…’

  ‘You think that’s how this will go down? A straight swap?’

  ‘Let’s hope for that. But I’m going to get some information out of this guy first.’

  ‘What if he doesn’t know?’

  ‘He knows. He’s been there for years. And…’

  Brody trailed off.

  ‘What?’ King said.

  ‘I doubt Samantha’s village was an isolated incident.’

  ‘I doubt that too,’ King said.

  They returned to silence, and the ramifications began to set in. An American black operations official was in the hands of a rogue party of South African mercenaries, men who had no particular affiliation to any organisation or government and were simply in it for the money.

  If they realised who they had their hands on, they could extort Uncle Sam for as much as they wanted.

  And the blame for all this madness would rest squarely on King’s shoulders.

  He’d instigated the conflict. Brody had played his part, but the man had no more ties to the United States government. He could happily disappear. Start fresh somewhere else.

  This job was all King had.

  The jeep’s engine throbbed as it bounced recklessly over the track, and King’s heartbeat pulsed in turn.

  He had never been so out of his depth.

  35

  They arrived back at Lake Kivu a couple of hours after the sun had forced its way into the dawn sky.

  The jeep coughed and spluttered as it pulled up to the front gate of Brody’s compound, consuming its final few dregs of gas. Briefly there had been panic that they would run out of fuel in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by nothing but endless plains and fields of jungle trees. That would leave them at the mercy of passers-by — not the most ideal position to be in in the Democratic Republic of the Congo.

  King stirred as they approached the perimeter fence. He’d managed a couple of restless hours of sleep, interspersed with long periods of pensive thought as the dark surroundings rushed by. He’d been expecting an ambush at any moment, either from militants or bandits or gangsters. In retrospect, he almost wanted an attack to take place.

  Anything to take his mind off the mess he’d just become embroiled in.

  Despite Brody’s intentions to whittle the truth out of Thorn, King wanted nothing more than to alleviate themselves of the responsibility as fast as possible. The fact that Bernardi rested in the hands of someone as unstable as Wyatt set him on edge — it hadn’t been King’s idea for the man to come, but Wyatt was no doubt a dangerous man, and King had royally pissed him off.

  The sooner they could return to training, the better.

  You never should have left the compound.

  In the madness of the past twelve hours, the fight itself had taken a backseat. It had proved far easier than King had ever imagined — he’d entered that cage prepared for a war, ready to put his body on the line for the personal satisfaction of competitive achievement. Then he’d flattened his opponent with a single well-placed punch and followed it up with the manhandling and abduction of a ruthless South African mercenary.

  A successful evening, all things considered.

  It sure didn’t feel like one.

  Brody unlocked the gate and wedged it open as King stirred, checking on Thorn in the back seat. At some point during the drive Brody had looped the rope between his teeth, preventing him from uttering anything than growls. Perhaps the man had decided to protest his treatment halfway through the trip. It must have been whilst King was catching up on much-needed sleep, riding out the massive adrenalin crash that had struck him just a few miles out of Kisangani.

  Something about a cage fight and the intensity of a life-or-death situation weighed heavy on the soul.

  Brody got back in the jeep and accelerated through the gate, heading for the warehouse. It was a beautiful morning, with streaks of orange tinting the sky and the temperature under control, considering the climate. King realised his pores were closed even though the sun beat down overhead — a first during his time in the Congo.

  Then he thought of everything they needed to do before he returned to the States, and all other thoughts dissipated.

  He and Brody threw open the rear doors and manhandled Thorn out of the jeep, dragging him through the massive open entranceway to the warehouse looking out over Lake Kivu. Brody ducked into an adjoining storage room and came out with a rickety wooden chair. They bound the mercenary by his hands and feet to the piece of furniture, leaving him propped up in the middle of the cavernous space, staring at them both with half-closed eyes.

  ‘You took a serious knock to the head back there,’ Brody said. ‘Couple of them, actually. How are you feeling?’

  The South African man spat on the grappling mat between his feet. ‘Go to hell.’

  King lashed out and kicked him in the stomach, making him gasp for air and wince simultaneously as his guts twisted into a knot.

  ‘You’re going to answer every question my friend has.’

  ‘Are you two stupid?’ Thorn scoffed. ‘You don’t think we know where you live? You’re the only people around these parts for miles. Wyatt will come straight here.’

  ‘No, he won’t,’ Brody said. ‘Because he’s smart, and you’re not. And he has leverage.’

  ‘Leverage?’

  ‘He has a friend of ours,’ King said. ‘From Kisangani.’

  Thorn raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. ‘Oh. Then you’re completely screwed.’

  ‘How so?’

  ‘You think you can outsmart Wyatt?’

  ‘I think I can give it a go.’

  ‘You can’t,’ he said, then turned to Brody. ‘How long have you been in the Congo, brother?’

  ‘A few years,’ Brody said.

  ‘Well, that ain
’t long enough. Wyatt’s been surviving in this world for a decade. And he hasn’t been hanging around an isolated compound with his head down. He’s been in action — fighting, manipulating, moving. He never stops moving. You’re not going to beat him with this bullshit. You’d do best to let me go. You’re out of your depth, mate.’

  Brody smirked and crouched down by Thorn’s hunched form, squatting on the mat so the two men could see eye to eye. ‘What do you know about me?’

  Thorn said nothing. He’d sensed the atmosphere shift — so had King. Hesitantly, King took a back step to allow the conversation to change direction.

  This was no longer his business.

  ‘I asked you a question,’ Brody said.

  ‘I know you’re a pussy,’ Thorn spat, feigning a pathetic grin. ‘You hide here cause you don’t want to get yourself killed. Mate, I suggest you keep—’

  Brody hit him so hard in the jaw that a sharp crack echoed through the warehouse, jolting King in place. It was the first aggressive strike he’d seen the man throw during his entire time in the Congo, and with it something loosened in Brody’s body, something usually imperceptible. King had now spent enough time with the man to recognise the change.

  He found himself afraid of what might come next.

  Brody inched closer to Thorn’s grimacing face, now drooling blood onto his lap.

  ‘Have you heard the name Samantha?’ he said softly.

  ‘No.’

  ‘You sure?’

  ‘Positive. Haven’t seen a foreign girl around these parts for years.’

  ‘How long have you been protecting that mine for?’

  ‘Four years now. Steady job.’

  ‘Who do you work for?’

  ‘Barnes & Cooper Resources.’

  ‘They a good company?’

  ‘They pay well.’

  ‘Did you start off guarding such a large area?’

  ‘Mate, what the fuck are you talking abou—’

  Brody hit him again, this time delivering an open-handed slap that would have looked comical if it hadn’t been backed by unbelievable power. The sound of his palm smashing off the side of Thorn’s face made King recoil, wincing as he imagined the nerve endings firing across the man’s cheek.

  ‘Did you start off guarding such a large area?’ Brody said, word-for-word identical.

  ‘Look—’

  Before Thorn had even started to utter the single syllable, Brody recognised that he wouldn’t get the answer he was looking for. He smashed an open palm off either side of the man’s head simultaneously, boxing his ears with all the force he had available. Inside Thorn’s head, it would have sounded like a nuclear bomb going off.

  The man let out something very close to a whimper.

  ‘Did you start off guarding such a large area?’ Brody said.

  Clinical.

  Methodical.

  ‘No,’ Thorn managed.

  Three strikes, and he was broken.

  ‘When you and your friends came onto the scene,’ Brody said, ‘what were you tasked to do?’

  ‘They were, uh…’

  Brody moved to slap him again.

  ‘No!’ Thorn yelled.

  King couldn’t believe it. The toughest goddamn mercenary on the planet not five minutes earlier had devolved into a nervous wreck.

  ‘Answer faster,’ Brody said. ‘So I know you’re not bullshitting.’

  ‘They were setting up their operations. I don’t know the specifics. I’m not a fucking miner.’

  ‘But you were tasked with clearing out areas for the operation to expand?’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  Brody boxed his ears again, even harder than the first time. King couldn’t imagine how unpleasant the sensation was.

  Thorn opened his mouth to speak, and Brody smashed his palms into the man’s ears for a third consecutive time, before he could even manage a sentence. He coughed and spluttered and grimaced, and the second he opened his eyes to look up at Brody, he was met with an underhanded palm strike to the base of his nose.

  None of the impacts were life threatening.

  But they were suffocating.

  Overwhelming.

  King stood back and watched, and even though he wasn’t on the receiving end he could almost sense the panic in Thorn’s chest.

  ‘Not comfortable, is it?’ Brody said.

  ‘Please.’

  ‘Want to know how long I can keep this up?’

  King sensed an inkling of Brody’s past roaring to the surface with all the dark knowledge and suppressed memories. The man knew how to break people, uncomfortably fast. King had never seen anything like it. He’d been subjected to interrogation resistance techniques during his brief stint in the SEALs, including a horrifying ordeal during the infamous Hell Week, but Brody had the most accurate timing he’d ever seen in the field. Every time Thorn flashed a fibre of weakness, Brody smacked him in the head hard enough to disorientate him.

  The effect was overwhelming.

  ‘Yes, yes, okay, for God’s sake,’ Thorn stammered. Already, his cheeks had started to swell from the repeated impacts. ‘Stop fucking hitting me. We did some shit back then. That’s the nature of our job. You want to kill me for that … go right ahead.’

  ‘What kind of shit?’ Brody said, still only inches from the man’s face.

  ‘Evicted people. Chased them out of the surrounding areas. Recruited militants for odd jobs who we knew would use the money to rape and murder.’

  ‘Did you shoot up villages?’

  Thorn stared at Brody with a perplexed expression. ‘Like, gun down civilians?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘I didn’t.’

  Brody smashed two palms into Thorn’s ears, causing him to cry out in pain. ‘Is that the truth?’

  ‘Yes! I don’t know what the others did.’

  Brody snatched a handful of his thin curly hair and yanked his head into an upright position. ‘Look at me. Look right at me. Is that the truth?’

  ‘I didn’t shoot any villagers — Jesus Christ. I beat people up who didn’t deserve it. I watched soldiers rape civilians and did nothing. It entertained me to drive them out of their homes. But I didn’t kill anyone for no reason. I’m a soldier of fortune but I don’t do anything without getting paid. And I wasn’t paid to kill anyone innocent — believe me, mate. I’d tell you if I did.’

  ‘I don’t think you would,’ Brody said. ‘But I believe you. What about your friends?’

  ‘I honestly can’t say.’

  ‘Because you don’t want me to know?’

  Thorn’s eyes lit up with fear. ‘Nah, not like that. I mean — I don’t know. It was pretty chaotic at the start. We were all making a lot of money with no direct orders. Just general commands. We went and did our own thing. I can’t say what Wyatt or Link did. Or the other crews.’

  Brody paused. ‘Other crews?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘What’s that mean?’

  ‘What do you think?’ Thorn said, then winced as he recognised the sardonic nature of his tone. ‘Wait — you think it’s just us protecting Barnes & Cooper Resources?’

  ‘I figured. I only see you lot around.’

  ‘Mate … we guard one side of the complex. And that’s a full time gig. There’s a lot of psychos out here.’

  ‘And the other three sides?’

  ‘Three more mercenary teams. One per side. We all keep to ourselves.’

  ‘But if I have you here…?’

  There was a silence in the air that King recognised as the tide turning in Thorn’s favour. The brutish South African sported a sudden smirk, raising both eyebrows to scoff at their predicament. ‘Oh … you think it’s just Wyatt and Link? I assumed you had this place locked down.’

  ‘Be honest,’ King said, piping up for the first time in a few minutes. ‘You think Barnes & Cooper will send all their troops to get you back? That’d leave them awfully vulnerable.’

&nb
sp; ‘Who knows, mate,’ Thorn said, shrugging as blood ran down his face. ‘That’s life. Maybe they will. Maybe they won’t. Only one way to find out.’

  As absolute silence settled over the warehouse’s interior, King picked up a noise on the edge of earshot. Barely perceptible, almost unnoticeable. He narrowed his eyes and pricked up his ears. Listening hard.

  It grew louder.

  The distant rumble of an engine.

  ‘We might have trouble,’ Brody muttered.

  36

  By now the sun had completely risen, and as King and Brody took up position on either side of the compound’s entrance gate it beat down mercilessly on their exposed skin, baking the cracked earth all around them simultaneously.

  There was nowhere to hide in these sweeping plains, and the approaching vehicle was visible for miles in the distance. They both recognised it immediately — another brand-new Ford Raptor, this one painted dark red as opposed to the jet black palette of Wyatt’s fleet of vehicles.

  ‘You think it’s him?’ King said.

  Brody shook his head. ‘Guess the mercenary crews don’t keep entirely to themselves. Was probably an impulse decision for them to all purchase the same vehicles. This is another crew.’

  ‘You sure?’

  ‘Pretty sure.’

  ‘Then go back to the warehouse.’

  It took a moment for Brody to process what King had said. ‘What?’

  ‘You heard me.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘If this isn’t Wyatt and Link steaming towards us with guns blazing in a rage, then we’ll have time to talk. They won’t be here to kill us.’

  ‘You have no way of knowing that.’

  ‘What’s been stopping them killing you all these years, ever since you turned one of them into a bloody mess?’

  ‘You don’t know what they’re going to do, King.’

  ‘No, I can’t predict exactly how they’ll react. But I know they’ll give us time to talk. And that’s all I need.’

  ‘So why do you want me out of this?’

  ‘Couple of reasons.’

  ‘You’d better be convincing, because I’m not going anywhere in a hurry.’

  ‘Take this how you want, but you’re not in the clearest mental state right now.’