Chapter 7

SEVEN

The tablet screen opened, producing a dark screen with icons and folders and files. "Oh god," Asher whispered. Harry knew he was reluctant, and truth be told, Harry totally understood why.

Afraid of what they might find.

"CCTV," Asher mumbled, clicking on a folder. There were hundreds of folders, filenames with dates Harry deduced were the dates of security footage. Asher clicked on the last entry. It was dated just days ago...

The footage began to play, the screen quickly dividing into separate boxes. Each box was a camera view of different locations within Yunho's house and the island.

The first was of the boat house and dock, other cameras focused on the grounds area. Then inside the house was the living area and kitchen, the back of the house, upstairs hallway, and of course inside the war room.

Oh god.

Around six in the morning, Lucas entered the upstairs hall from the main bedroom. He wore sleep pants, a T-shirt, and slippers. He left the bedroom door open, went downstairs to the kitchen, and proceeded to make coffee and set the patio table with fruits and yoghurt, some bread, and condiments. He shuffled back and forth in a well-practiced routine. He looked... happy. Normal.

Then Yunho appeared in the hall, showered and dressed. He skipped down the stairs, breezing over to where Lucas was standing in the kitchen. He was fixing a plate of meat and cheese by the look of it. Yunho pressed a kiss to Lucas's shoulder, murmured something the audio didn't quite catch, then carried the juice to the table on the patio.

Asher sighed, frowning at the screen. "They look so happy," he murmured.

They picked at their breakfast, sipping their coffee. Yunho pointed to and talked of a pair of birds who were back for the breeding season, they discussed the lawn maintenance, and they discussed the stock market.

Then at 7:03 a.m., Aranya appeared from a downstairs guest room. She walked out, fixing her hair. Harry had forgotten she stayed there while she worked to save her travelling by boat every day.

"Sawadee ka," she said as she went outside to the table.

"Morning," Yunho and Lucas both replied. They made small talk briefly about the beautiful day, and what their day ahead looked like: the market in the middle east, a data breach in China, leaking international finance fraud in Washington. All normal, everyday stuff for cyber hackers.

When, in reality, they had no idea what was coming.

Asher sighed. "Lucas will now go and shower, Yunho will go downstairs. Aranya will finish up breakfast and clear the table, like they do every morning. Lucas will come by later and wash up." He shook his head. "I'll fast forward to the end. We can go back and listen to the whole day later."

Harry nodded. "Good idea."

Asher scrolled to the end, and when there was a flash in the dark at the south side of the house, Asher paused and rewound it. It was pitch black, 10:12 p.m., and there was definitely movement at the south side of the house. Something glinted in the camera. Something metal.

Then four men dressed in all black crept into view. They dressed like navy seals, moved like it too. Professionals. Three of them had AK-74s and one had a black laptop bag slung over his shoulder.

Yuhno, Lucas, and Aranya were all still in the war room. All three of them spun to look at a security screen, only now seeing the intruders enter, as Harry and Asher could see on a screen. Yunho launched at his keyboard, the door to the war room slammed shut, and a second later, every screen went black.

On the screen of the living room, the intruders entered the house, heading straight for the door to the basement. The guy with the laptop bag pulled something out of it, stuck it to the keypad, pressed something, and the door opened.

Some kind of code breaker?

They went down the stairs, the guy with the backpack went in first.

One door done, one to go . . .

Meanwhile, in the war room, Lucas ran for the vault, coming out with handguns, and he handed one to Yunho.

"Aranya, get in there," Lucas instructed. "Close the door. Do not open it for anyone but us. Arm yourself. "

But as she went toward it, the war room door exploded inward and the three of them spun to face it, recoiling.

Two intruders slid into the room. One of them shot Aranya right where she stood—one shot, right to the forehead, perfect aim—and before Lucas could even raise his gun, the other intruder had his rifle at Yunho's head. "Don't fucking move," he warned Lucas.

There was an accent.

"Put your gun down," he said.

Russian?

"Shoot him," Yunho hissed.

The Russian pressed the end of his rifle to Yunho's forehead. "Shoot me, he dies on reflex."

"Shoot him," Yunho yelled.

But Lucas couldn't do it. What the Russian said was right. His finger was on the trigger. If he was shot, his muscles would retract in an instant, shooting Yunho.

The other intruder came around the desk, his gun trained on Lucas.

He spoke fast, his voice rough like he'd had a throat injury. "Put your fucking gun down," he barked.

Lucas put the pistol on the desk and the guy slid it away, then turned his rifle around and cracked Lucas in the side of the head with it. Lucas stumbled and Yunho flinched, but the guy closest to him grabbed Yunho's arm, twisted it up behind his back, and kicked the back of his knee, forcing him to kneel.

Asher growled.

The third and fourth intruder came in then. While the first two zip-tied Yunho and Lucas's hands behind their back, intruder number three went to the mainframe cabinet and took the box that had been missing .

Harry had wondered who'd taken it. The intruders, or even if Yunho had destroyed it.

Now he knew.

"They knew how to get in," Asher murmured. "They knew exactly what to take."

Harry nodded. "They had inside information."

Then intruder number four went over to Yuhno and Lucas. He took out a small black box, no bigger than a pack of gum. He flipped the lid, took out a small circular pad. No bigger than a dollar coin. He whacked Yunho's neck with it, hard. It stuck to the side of his neck and Yunho slumped forward. Lucas fought against his restraints, one of them cracked him again with the butt of his rifle. He fell back. Intruder three stuck one of those circular pads on Lucas's neck, and he never moved.

"The fuck was that?" Harry asked.

"Some kind of sedative," Asher deduced.

Then they hauled both Yunho and Lucas to their feet and all but carried their listless bodies up the stairs. They got upstairs, one intruder on either side of Yunho and Lucas, and hauled them outside, into the dark.

And they were gone.

It took less than four minutes.

The cameras kept recording, though Asher pushed the screen away. They'd see if anything moved, but for now, not even the curtains blew in the breeze where the doors were left wide open.

"They never tripped the alarm system," Asher said. He was so livid his voice was like ice. "They must have disabled it before they arrived. They knew the top door was a PIN pad. They knew the door into the war room would need a PIN pad and explosives. "

"And they knew exactly what mainframe box to take," Harry added. "And where it was. They knew everything."

"Like they had eyes in there," Asher said. Then his eyebrows knitted in a scowl. "Or had someone on the inside, feeding them intel."

Harry didn't like that idea as much as Asher clearly didn't like it, but it was a possibility.

He shrugged. "Aranya? They cleaned up that loose end real fast, didn't they? If it was her..."

"I'd like to think it wasn't. I liked her, as did Yunho. He trusted her and paid her so well that any money some asshole offered for information wouldn't even compare."

"Unless they took her family, threatened her that way," Asher added.

"A possibility," Harry said, because it was. And at this point, they had to consider anything. "I'll google the news around the Ranong area to see if there's any mention of Yunho's island."

Asher nodded. Then he rewound the footage back to the first sighting of the intruders' gun glinting in the dark and watched it again, looking at anything he might have missed the first time.

"They came in from the south," Asher said quietly. "Each of them had a specialty. Two for the hostages, one for the keypad and to blow the door, one for the mainframe and the tranquilliser."

He listened to their voices and rewound it, and listened to and rewound, several times over. "Belarusian," Asher said. "Maybe Latvian. Or Russian." Then he sighed. "I can't be certain. I'm out of practice. The old me would have known."

Harry gave Asher's arm a squeeze. "It's likely they were just a team paid a lot of money. Their accents aren't indicative of anything. I'm Australian and killed people all over."

Asher shot him a pointed stare. "We came to Europe because those men were Croatian. Are you saying it was wrong? Have we wasted time? Time Yunho doesn't have?"

"No, we came here because it was the only lead we had at the time. And if those guys are Russian or Belarusian or Latvian, and if that's the only lead we have, then we'll go there too."

Asher frowned, almost sulked. "I hate not knowing."

Harry's heart hurt for him. He hated that he felt so helpless. "Then look at what we do know," he tried. He knew Asher would get stuck in his own head, mad at himself for what he deemed a failure on his behalf. "What can you tell me about the footage?"

Asher's eyes went back to the screen, where Yunho was now on his knees, sedated with that pad on his neck. "That those men are going to die."

"Yes."

"That one of them has or had an injury with his larynx."

"Yes."

"That I'm going to make it a whole lot worse."

"Good. And?"

He paused, his voice quiet. "That I'm glad they sedated him, so he wouldn't freak out when they dragged him off his island. So his anxiety didn't kill him."

Harry ran his hand up Asher's back and gave his neck a squeeze. "Do you think they sedated them to make transportation easier? Or because they knew of his agoraphobia? It's much harder to transport someone when they're having a medical episode. It's risky and unknown, and those are two things no transport team wants. "

Asher sighed again. "If they knew about the war room, then it's likely they knew about his condition."

Harry nodded. "Good. Okay, what else can you tell me."

"They came up on the south side of the island, so they definitely knew they'd have more cover than if they used the dock. That means it was likely a rubber dinghy so it could come ashore and they had a larger boat further out."

Now they were getting somewhere. "A safe assumption."

"They had intel on the island."

"Agreed."

"And they likely made landfall in Myanmar. Thailand's coastguard is better and there's more chance of going undetected or even paying their way through Myanmar."

"Okay, good." Harry wanted to ask, where would they have gone next , but that was a complete unknown and he needed to focus on what they did know. He tapped the screen. "Tell me what else you know about these intruders."

"Trained. Professional. Efficient."

"What else."

He looked closer at the screen. "Kalashnikov rifles. AK-74s, which tells me they're either from Russia or they were armed by the Russians. So that means likely Russian but not conclusive."

Okay, good. "What else?"

Asher pressed play again and waited until one of the intruders, the one with the gravelly voice, turned around. Asher paused the screen and zoomed in. It did pixelate a bit but it was clear enough. "That's a Kizlyar knife. That's Russian."

"Good. Anything else? "

Asher studied the screen before he shrugged. "Nothing. They're covered, have no VDMs, no old Yugoslav army tattoos on display. They look like a standard special forces op."

Harry agreed. "They do look military. Not just some hired loyalist, separatist nutjobs. They've been trained properly."

Asher's brows drew together. "Don't assume anyone with proper training and certain skill sets is military. I never enlisted, but I assure you, I was trained."

Harry conceded that point with a nod. "Fair enough."

"And our friend Ivan did say that ZBK group was taken over by an ex-general," Asher added.

"True." It was Harry's turn to sigh. "We need to find out what we can about them. Location, factions, chapters, however they operate, and who we need to question. I'm sure they assume their three men they sent to kill us are dead, but I'd like to tell them in person."

Asher almost smiled. "And I'd like to be there when you tell them."

"So our next call to action, before we pay Ivan a visit to collect our guns, is to find out everything we can." Harry tapped the screen that still showed the scene in Yunho's war room. "And what else Yunho has in these files. See if we can find out what he discovered recently or who he might have pissed off."

"He pissed off a lot of people."

"Yeah, but why now? Something must have happened in the last six months to bring this about. It might be an enemy from a decade ago who just found out he's still alive. But something must have recently tripped a wire somewhere. Because after all this time of Yunho being untraceable, they suddenly found him. "

Asher nodded, frowning. "I hope he's okay," he whispered. "I'm trying not to think about what they've done to him..."

Harry put his arm around Asher's shoulder. "We will find them. But we need to focus, and we need to think like Yunho. He gave you the access code to all his information. He wants you to find what we're missing."

Asher seemed bolstered by that, determined to search and find whatever that was. The thing was, it was like searching for a needle in a haystack, if the haystack was a few exabytes of data and they had no clue what the needle even looked like.

Harry busied himself with his own research. Google was a godsend, even though he could remember a time very early in his career when any information he needed to find had to be sent to him. Intel arrived via text or yellow envelopes, or a burner email account. Christ, Harry didn't even know what a VPN was back then...

Now he could find out information, get compound aerial views, street views, data records, addresses, and identification photos with just a few clicks of his keyboard.

Yet compared to Yunho and Lucas, Harry was as computer literate as a potato.

Asher was much better at it than Harry could ever be.

Harry was better on the ground, doing the grunt work, doing whatever he was told needed doing. But he could find some stuff easily enough: ZBK names, known locations, info on their new friend Ivan ?osi?. Like his known associates, tax records, and his home address.

Which came in handy at four in the morning when they broke into his house and woke him up. Poor guy almost crapped himself when Asher stood at the side of his bed. "Wakey wakey," he said .

Ivan woke up and shot backwards, bumping into the headboard. "Wh-wh-what the fuck!"

Harry hit the lights and Ivan recoiled from the brightness, but also from the fact that Asher and Harry were in his bedroom at four o'clock in the morning.

Luckily Ivan lived alone. They didn't need to account for anyone else in the house. No wife and kids, and for that Harry was grateful.

Something that, ten years ago, he wouldn't have cared too much about. Sometimes it even worked in his favour; it made the target more compliant. But now Harry was happy no one else had to suffer.

Christ, this is bad, Harry thought. Would he hesitate now because he'd somehow grown a conscience in the last two years?

He really wasn't sure.

"What the fuck are you doing in here? How did you get in?" Ivan said, clutching at his bedding like that would protect him.

"I know I said twenty-four hours," Asher said cheerfully as he sat on the edge of Ivan's bed. "But I do like to keep people on their toes. It's good for business, don't you think?"

Ivan blinked a few times, still confused. "How did you get in here? How do you know where I live?"

"I know all about the people I do business dealings with, Ivan. Now come on, get up. I have a merchandise order to collect."

"Y-you said I had twenty-four hours," he tried. "I don't even know what time it is."

Asher patted Ivan's leg. "Mr ?osi?, if you didn't have everything I'd asked for six hours after I'd asked for it, I'd be very disappointed. "

It was the cheerfulness, the buzzing excited manner with which Asher delivered his threats that made them more unnerving.

"Well it's not here," he said, pulling his leg away. "I don't have it in my house."

"I should hope not," Asher said. "You know, your security system is terrible. So easy to disarm. I thought you'd at least have a dog. I love dogs."

Ivan looked at Asher as if he were insane.

Asher clapped his hands, making Ivan jump. "Come on, time to get up. We're going for a little drive."

"D-drive?" He said, eyes wide. "Where to?"

"To wherever my merchandise is."

Harry picked up the jeans and a sweater that were on the floor and tossed them onto the bed. "Get dressed. And don't leave your clothes on the floor. What are you? Eight years old?"

He shook his head, pulling the sweater on, mumbling about getting home late, how he only left his club a few hours ago, blah blah blah.

Harry didn't give one fuck. "Just get fucking dressed."

Asher stood up. "And we're going to need the keys to your car."

Two minutes later, they drove out of the underground car park in Ivan's Audi. Asher drove, Harry sat in the back with Ivan, and while the car was nice, it wasn't built for a man Harry's size to sit in the back. Ivan kept looking up at Harry, their size difference very noticeable, and if he considered for one second trying to escape, Harry could break several of his bones without too much trouble.

Ivan seemed to know this.

The city was dark. Yellow streetlights in the blackness of night, a garbage truck a few blocks over, and the lights on in a bakery they passed were the only signs of life. That's why they were doing this before dawn.

Harry could remember a time when this was his favourite time of the day. Or days and weeks on end when he never saw daylight, not even once.

It was a different life back then.

"So, Ivan," Asher broke the silence. "What did you find out about a Mr Asher Garin?"

He made a face, and it was an expression Harry had seen a hundred times on his victims. He didn't know much, and his answer was not going to go over well. But there was something else in the way he swallowed hard...

"That he disappeared a few years ago. He had a price on his head but no one claimed the kill."

He looked up at Harry then, his eyes shifty, hands fidgeting in his lap.

"He knows more," Harry said to Asher. Then he looked down at Ivan. "You can't lie for shit."

"I don't know," Ivan said. "I don't for certain, and I don't like retelling shit that might not be true. You said you wanted information, not rumours."

Harry growled at him. "What rumours?"

Ivan shrank back from him, his hands up. "Okay, okay. There's been rumours. But it was about some other guy tied to Garin, not Garin himself. That the guy he worked for, who he got his intel from, was some guy that supposedly died years ago. They were running some big-time data funding ring together, him and Garin. I don't know. That guy who was supposed to be dead isn't fucking dead, apparently. Like, no shit. Bit hard to run some billion-dollar black market data farm when you're dead. But they found him. Some Chinese kid found him. I don't know. "

Asher's eyes flashed to Harry's in the rear-vision mirror.

Chinese kid?

"Who?" Harry snarled. "The Chinese guy? Who is he?"

Ivan slunk away, his back almost to the door. "I don't know. Some genius computer whiz. He's like fifteen years old or something."

"Who does he work for?" Harry bellowed at him.

Ivan went white, his eyes comically large, his hands shaking. "I don't know! Some guy in Moscow. Super rich. Garin's partner must have pissed him off. Deal gone wrong, how the fuck would I know?"

"You seem to know an awful lot of rumours," Asher said calmly.

"It was hot news this week, apparently. Those ZBK freaks you were asking about, in the photos..." Ivan said, grimacing. "The Russian guy hired them. Found some lead in Australia, where they reckon Garin was hiding out, and sent three..." Ivan's face went a shade of pale before his crazed eyes danced between Asher and Harry. "Oh fuck," he squeaked.

Harry sighed. "He's just realised I'm Australian," he said flatly. "He put the pieces together. You're a bit fucking slow, mate."

Ivan's mouth opened and closed a few times, and he blinked in Asher's direction. "And y-you're..."

Asher laughed. "I'm a paying customer." Then he nodded up ahead. "The address is coming up. Where do I go?"

Ivan could only shake his head, so he clearly needed some help getting the words out. Harry grabbed him by the neck and pinned him against the door. "Speak. "

"R-round the side," he gasped. "On the right. There's a roller door. PIN code access. Number is 4375."

Harry let him go and Ivan slumped down in his seat, rubbing his neck. "Jesus Christ," he mumbled.

"I doubt he'd be any help to you," Harry replied flatly.

Asher pulled up at the PIN pad, entered the number, and inched the car forward as the door went up. What the place was, it turned out, was a storage warehouse. There were pallets of different alcohols; beers, cans, bottles, and an older style Jeep parked off to the side.

Asher waited until the roller door was closed behind them, then he got out. He opened Ivan's door and helped him to his feet—he looked a little unsteady—and dragged him over to the wall. "Lights," he demanded. By the time Harry got out and walked around to meet them, the overhead lights flickered on.

"Whose place is this?" Asher asked.

"It's mine," he began. "I get wholesale liquor for my clubs. Bulk discounts and shit. Store it here."

"And our merchandise?" Asher asked.

He swallowed hard. "It's over there," he said, giving a pointed nod to the Jeep.

"Let's see it," Harry barked, and Ivan hurried over.

In the corner were some 44-gallon drums of oil, according to the labels. But Ivan pulled the top off and inside were black duffle bags.

Christ. They were dealing with an idiot.

"Inside the oil drum that has no business being inside a liquor store warehouse," Harry griped. "Really?"

Ivan looked about to apologise, but he was shaking so bad he couldn't even stammer out a reply.

Asher looked in each bag, taking out a pistol. It was still in its box, brand new. Asher took it out and lifted it to his nose and sniffed it. "Ah. I love the smell of rust preventative in the morning."

Harry chuckled and Ivan looked between them again, clearly thinking they were insane. He tried to smile but he also looked about ready to puke so it didn't quite hold.

Asher tossed the hunting knife to Harry. "For you, my love."

Harry caught it easily, unsheathed it, and inspected the blade. "Nice."

"Now," Asher said sweetly. "I did ask for a MAC 50. I know they're hard to get, people tend to ask all sorts of questions. Like, ‘Why do you need that kind of weapon?' and ‘That's a specialist sniper rifle.' Like I don't already know that." He sighed dramatically. "So while I won't be surprised if you couldn't get one, I will be disappointed."

Ivan nodded to the next drum. "I got it, I got it, it's in there." He went to reach for it, but Harry grabbed him, stopping him.

"I'll open it," Harry barked.

Inside was a black rifle carry bag and nothing else. Harry pulled it out, rested it on top of the drum, and opened it.

"Is she pretty?" Asher asked Harry, but he was facing Ivan.

Harry pulled the rifle out to show Asher. "Take a look."

Asher gasped excitedly. "It's an R2. It's an older model," he told Ivan.

Ivan shook his head. "It was all I could get. Like you said, they're not easy?—"

"Relax, dear Ivan," Asher said. "The R2 is my favourite. The weight distribution is so much better, less recoil. I don't know why they insist on updating these things when the older model was perfect. "

Harry put it back in the bag, zipped it all up, and picked up the bag of ammunition. "The Jeep's ours?"

Ivan nodded. "Yes. Like you asked for. Nondescript, Bosnian plates, registered, should the cops do a spot check, and the tank is full."

Harry began loading their gear into the back of the Jeep while Asher took Ivan by the arm. "Now, let's discuss payment."

Harry checked the Jeep over while they did what needed doing. Asher would transfer the money directly into the account of Ivan's choosing. They both stood there looking at their phone screens. There was a ding, Ivan nodded, and Asher smiled.

"It's been a pleasure doing business with you," Asher said.

Ivan nodded and swallowed hard. "Glad I could help."

"Now, about telling anyone," Asher began.

"I won't tell anyone," he said quickly.

Asher laughed. "It's probably best you don't. If they find out you did a business deal with Asher Garin and didn't tell them so they could claim the bounty on my head, you will have cost them a lot of money, and they won't take that very lightly."

"I won't. I wouldn't," he said, panicked.

"As for the ZBK boys, well, I don't think you'll need to worry about them too much. Because we're about to kill all of them."

Ivan swallowed hard.

"And if they know we're about to turn up, I'll know you warned them. And after we've finished gutting them like we did their three comrades in Australia, we'll come back and do the same to you." Asher grinned at him. "M'kay? Are we clear, Ivan? "

Ivan nodded quickly. "Understood. I won't tell anyone."

"Now, are you sure you don't remember anything else those pesky rumours said about my dear friend who was supposed to be dead years ago, but obviously wasn't, and the Chinese boy computer whiz who found him?"

Ivan stammered a bit and shook his head. "No, that was all. Just that they found him. That's all I know."

"And who told you this?" Asher asked, his tone sweet, his smile cute.

"I know some guys who find out information," he said. "Drugs, guns, that kind of stuff, whatever. I asked one of them if he'd heard anything on Asher Garin—" He paused, stricken. "Because you asked me to, no other reason. And he said he'd heard because he... maybe he does deals with the ZBK. He gets them guns and drugs, I don't know. I don't deal with them crazy fucks. I haven't ever. You gotta be crazy to get into business with them."

"I need a name," Asher asked, not so sweetly now. "A name of your informant friend who does business with them."

He baulked, so Harry took a step toward him.

Ivan put his hands up. "Daris Guli. His name is Daris."