same facility.”
“You’re sure?” asked Vance.
“We’ve been through all of the footage and compared it to our imagery. It’s definitely the same.”
“The front gate has been breached,” Vance observed from one of the images. “Looks like someone busted out.”
“Look at the number of body bags.” Chua pointed to another image showing firefighters lining up casualties.
“Looks like they got hit hard.” Vance got up with a smile and started heading back to his office.
“Don’t you think it’s likely that Kurtz and Aleks did this?”
The big man stopped and turned to Chua. “I’d be disappointed if they didn’t.”
“It could affect Bishop’s op. The Syndicate will surely increase the level of security at all their facilities.”
Vance shrugged. “It is what it is. Let’s just see if he gets an invite.”
CHAPTER 13
CASTLE LORAN, EASTERN HUNGARY
The two BMW X5s powered along the narrow gravel road that led through the Loran Forest to the castle. They swept out of the tree line and across the clearing that surrounded the ancient walls. The convoy slowed as it reached the bridge over the moat and passed through the stone arch that held the gatehouse aloft. In the cobblestoned courtyard they turned in a tight circle until they stopped in front of the keep.
Masateru and his two Kissaki bodyguards alighted from the vehicles and started up the stairs. The two former Japanese Special Forces operators were a direct contrast to their boss. Heavily built, with short military-style haircuts, they wore black suits and white shirts open at the neck. The cut of their jackets was loose, designed to hide the B&T MP9 machine pistols they carried.
“Welcome to Castle Loran, Masateru,” András greeted the Yakuza lieutenant at the steps to the keep. “Your visit is a welcome surprise. What brings you to Hungary?”
“I think we both know that already.” He used both hands to smooth out the creases in his light-gray woolen suit and slick back his hair.
“Yes, of course, everything is in place for the auction. Already the girls—”
“Take me to your office. We have business to discuss.”
The Yakuza lieutenant led the way up the stairs and into the foyer of the mafia headquarters. Seemingly immune to the lavishness of the former boutique hotel, he passed through the main hall, guards in tow. He headed directly to the bank of elevators that had been installed in the ancient building. András followed with his own men.
When they reached the office they left their men in the hallway. Masateru took a seat to one side of András’s desk, allowing the Hungarian to sit behind it.
“So tell me about how you have fixed this problem.” Masateru reached into his coat and extracted his cigarettes.
“What problem is that?” András feigned surprise, his thick eyebrows raised.
“You know better than to think there will ever be secrets between us.”
“It is only a small problem. My men are dealing with it.” András reached for his own pack of cigarettes, hand shaking.
“A small problem? I would hardly call the loss of your entire supply network a small problem.” Masateru lit his cigarette and tossed the gold Dunhill lighter to András.
“They can be easily replaced.” András lit his own cigarette and handed back the lighter.
“That is not what concerns me. What concerns me is you have no idea who did this. What’s to stop them from doing it again?”
“I have some leads. My men—”
“No you don’t,” Masateru cut him off. “You have no more idea who did this than I do. That is why I am here. I will find out who did this and then you will kill them.”
“Thank you.” András nodded respectfully. “Do you want me to cancel the auction? Some of the guests have already arrived and we have a new client who has the potential to significantly increase our market.”
Masateru took a long drag from his cigarette as he considered the information. “Is there anything linking the
“You’re sure?” asked Vance.
“We’ve been through all of the footage and compared it to our imagery. It’s definitely the same.”
“The front gate has been breached,” Vance observed from one of the images. “Looks like someone busted out.”
“Look at the number of body bags.” Chua pointed to another image showing firefighters lining up casualties.
“Looks like they got hit hard.” Vance got up with a smile and started heading back to his office.
“Don’t you think it’s likely that Kurtz and Aleks did this?”
The big man stopped and turned to Chua. “I’d be disappointed if they didn’t.”
“It could affect Bishop’s op. The Syndicate will surely increase the level of security at all their facilities.”
Vance shrugged. “It is what it is. Let’s just see if he gets an invite.”
CHAPTER 13
CASTLE LORAN, EASTERN HUNGARY
The two BMW X5s powered along the narrow gravel road that led through the Loran Forest to the castle. They swept out of the tree line and across the clearing that surrounded the ancient walls. The convoy slowed as it reached the bridge over the moat and passed through the stone arch that held the gatehouse aloft. In the cobblestoned courtyard they turned in a tight circle until they stopped in front of the keep.
Masateru and his two Kissaki bodyguards alighted from the vehicles and started up the stairs. The two former Japanese Special Forces operators were a direct contrast to their boss. Heavily built, with short military-style haircuts, they wore black suits and white shirts open at the neck. The cut of their jackets was loose, designed to hide the B&T MP9 machine pistols they carried.
“Welcome to Castle Loran, Masateru,” András greeted the Yakuza lieutenant at the steps to the keep. “Your visit is a welcome surprise. What brings you to Hungary?”
“I think we both know that already.” He used both hands to smooth out the creases in his light-gray woolen suit and slick back his hair.
“Yes, of course, everything is in place for the auction. Already the girls—”
“Take me to your office. We have business to discuss.”
The Yakuza lieutenant led the way up the stairs and into the foyer of the mafia headquarters. Seemingly immune to the lavishness of the former boutique hotel, he passed through the main hall, guards in tow. He headed directly to the bank of elevators that had been installed in the ancient building. András followed with his own men.
When they reached the office they left their men in the hallway. Masateru took a seat to one side of András’s desk, allowing the Hungarian to sit behind it.
“So tell me about how you have fixed this problem.” Masateru reached into his coat and extracted his cigarettes.
“What problem is that?” András feigned surprise, his thick eyebrows raised.
“You know better than to think there will ever be secrets between us.”
“It is only a small problem. My men are dealing with it.” András reached for his own pack of cigarettes, hand shaking.
“A small problem? I would hardly call the loss of your entire supply network a small problem.” Masateru lit his cigarette and tossed the gold Dunhill lighter to András.
“They can be easily replaced.” András lit his own cigarette and handed back the lighter.
“That is not what concerns me. What concerns me is you have no idea who did this. What’s to stop them from doing it again?”
“I have some leads. My men—”
“No you don’t,” Masateru cut him off. “You have no more idea who did this than I do. That is why I am here. I will find out who did this and then you will kill them.”
“Thank you.” András nodded respectfully. “Do you want me to cancel the auction? Some of the guests have already arrived and we have a new client who has the potential to significantly increase our market.”
Masateru took a long drag from his cigarette as he considered the information. “Is there anything linking the
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