The Killing Grounds: an explosive and gripping thriller for fans of James Patterson

And with the helicopter beginning to rise and veer away from the yacht, Cooper shook his head. Gesturing desperately to the crewmen as he watched them tend to an unconscious Jackson.

‘Lower me back down… Now!’

‘Sorry sir, we have orders to get you straight back to the ship.’

Cooper’s voice was barely heard but he had no doubt his face conveyed the lost sound of anger. ‘I don’t give a damn about orders, Officer. Just lower me the hell down. There’s one other civilian still in the water.’

‘Sir, the other helicopter will have it covered. I’m sorry sir, there’s nothing I can do.’

*

‘Where’s Ellie? Answer me, Officer, when I’m talking to you.’

Struggling to hold down his sense of panic, Cooper stood on the landing pad of the USS Abraham Lincoln, as the air crewmen from the second Seahawk helicopter made their way from the chopper.

His panic. His fear. Emotions which held familiar echoes of his childhood. Feelings he’d refused to allow to penetrate as an adult began to engulf him. Overwhelm him.

‘You heard me, Daniels, where’s Ellie?’

The tall. Sinewy. Bald-headed seaman who Cooper could see was now regretting being first out of the helicopter, paled. Muttering the fewest of words.

‘I’m… I’m sorry, Lieutenant.’

The mix of bewilderment and shock and disbelief and confusion acted as a catalyst for Cooper’s anger. He lunged at the new recruit. Grabbed him by his oversized flight suit and shook the hell out of him.

‘What are you talking about? Answer the goddamn question!’

Daniels looked behind him, hoping his colleagues would come to help – not to his physical rescue, but to his verbal one. ‘I… I am, sir… I did.’

The pain of the migraine behind Cooper’s eyes began to blur his vision. The pain of it shooting down his nose. But he didn’t care. He didn’t give a damn. All he wanted was answers. ‘Then tell it to me again, Daniels. Tell me again… Where is Ellie?’

‘She’s gone. I’m sorry.’

Hysteria channelled Cooper’s words. He shook his head in disbelief. His voice a cocktail of laughter and pain and dread rose louder and louder. ‘Gone? Gone where, Officer? Where is it you think she’s gone? To the mall? To a baby shower? To a goddamn Yankees game?’

‘Sir, no sir. When I say gone, I mean missing, lost at sea… presumed… presumed dead… sir.’

Letting go, he pushed Daniels hard away. Knocked him to the floor. But Cooper’s rage engulfed him. Driving him on to crouch down to where the officer had fallen. Leaning over him and squeezing and pressing the officer’s throat. Feeling the man’s trachea moving about on his palm.

Daniels rasped.

‘I know what you mean officer, but you see, that’s not possible. Shall I tell you why it isn’t? Because she was there, you son of a bitch. I heard her… Do you understand what I’m saying? She was still there!’

‘That’s enough, Cooper.’

Captain Beau Neill stood slightly to the side of Cooper, kneading the base of his back with his knuckles as shock-waves of pain darted through his body. Sciatica. It was the damnedest of things. He’d experienced the battle of Huê, Vietnam, in the late February of ’68. Been on more tours of duty than he could easily recall without referring to naval records. Yet it was the sciatica which was beating him. Slowly. Painfully. Relentlessly. Forcing him to give up his career, which was tantamount to giving up life.

Through gritted teeth, Neill directed his conversation to Officer Daniels. ‘Go ahead, explain to Lieutenant Cooper what happened, he needs to hear it.’

Daniels stood up. Held his throat. Looked hesitant. Wasn’t able to hold eye contact, though he articulated the course of events confidently. ‘I was in the second helicopter sir, and once the lieutenant and the male civilian had been rescued safely, and due to civilian one being…’

Cooper snapped. ‘His name’s Jackson. Jackson Woods.’

‘Sir. Due to… due to Mr. Woods’s severe injury, Seahawk one headed back to the ship. Seahawk two’s main objective was then to pick up the second civilian… I’m sorry, Lieutenant, I don’t know her name.’

Staring at Daniels, Cooper’s eyes were void of emotion. Listlessly he uttered,

‘Just carry on.’

‘From the air we couldn’t see the second civilian, and as we were able to establish the present threat had left the area, as well as alerting the Kenyan coast guards, two divers began a search and rescue.’

Knowing the answer already but for due diligence, Captain Neill probed. ‘Were you one of the divers, Officer?’

‘No sir, I continued in the helicopter which located the skiffs, eight miles north. By then we also had assistance from the counter piracy control unit. After warning shots, the two skiffs conceded and the PC unit searched the vessels. It was clear, sir, they’d discarded their weapons overboard because the only items found were fuel barrels, long ladders and grappling hooks. The PC unit then commenced to confiscate the property to ensure the suspects had no means to conduct any attacks. We then transferred them all into the one skiff, destroying and sinking the other one, prior to escorting the suspects back to the Somali shoreline. On our way back to assist the divers, we were informed by the appropriate authorities they were changing the MO from search and rescue to search and recover… I’m really sorry, Lieutenant Cooper.’

Captain Neill, visibly tormented by the pain hitting the top of his legs with unyielding brutality, and opposed to any sort of sentiment in the line of duty, snarled at Daniels.

‘Now get the hell out of here.’

‘Wait…! I said wait.’

Cooper strode up to Daniels. He was finding it hard to focus. Thoughts chaotically crossing from Ellie to Jackson, who’d earlier been flown on to Nairobi.

‘Yes, sir?’

‘You said two.’

‘Excuse me?’

‘You said there were two skiffs.’

‘Yes sir.’

‘There were three… Three skiffs.’

Daniels shook his head. ‘With respect, sir, there were just the two.’

Cooper pressed his palm into his eye, feeling the pulsating throb. ‘Are you trying to tell me I don’t know the difference between two and goddamn three?’

‘No sir, of course not. But in this case there were only two skiffs.’

The bellow from Cooper made the crew on the far side of the landing pad turn round curiously. ‘Three! One, two, three. Which means, she’s on the third.’

A puzzled crease formed on Daniels’s forehead. ‘Who… who sir?’

‘Ellie. Who the hell do you think I mean? I…’ Cooper stopped to ride on a wave of nausea as sweet saliva rushed into his mouth like a fountain. He swallowed hard. ‘She can’t have drowned, so there’s no point in search and recover. There isn’t a body to find.’

Turing to Captain Neill. The strain. The urgency in Cooper’s voice was palpable.

‘We have to deploy two, perhaps three units to the shore and contact the naval land base in Lamu, then…’

Neill cut through Cooper’s animation with tangible disdain. ‘Get yourself under control, Lieutenant, you’ve got a position to keep. Your subordinates are watching.’

‘My only concern here is with Ellie and sending an operations team to get her.’

‘Maybe you should’ve thought about that before.’

Captain Beau Neill pivoted on his heel and walked away. He nodded to Daniels to do the same which he gratefully did.

‘Don’t walk away from me, Beau. You hear me? Don’t you walk away.’

The captain jerked to a standstill. The words acting like the slamming of brakes. He spoke to Cooper with his back turned. His tenor a quiet menace. ‘Who the hell do you think you’re speaking to, Lieutenant?’

‘I don’t know, Captain, I’ve often wondered that myself.’

‘Be very careful, Cooper.’

‘Careful, careful of what? How the hell do you expect me to behave, when every minute we stand here Ellie gets further away from my reach? From our help. They’ll take her God knows where and do God knows what. And maybe they’ll ask for a ransom or maybe like others before her she’ll just disappear without a trace.’

Neill swiveled round. Flexing and relaxing his mouth. ‘Now you’ve finished lecturing me, I’ll tell you what I expect. I expect you to conduct yourself with the appropriate decorum, Lieutenant, as is your duty.’

Cooper tasted the bitterness coating his reply. ‘Decorum. Conduct. Goddamn duty. Those words read like a handbook from my childhood, Captain.’

Neill stepped in closer. Inches away. ‘I also expect you to see the truth when it’s in front of you… There was no third skiff. Ellie’s dead. Drowned, Lieutenant.’

‘No… no, you’ve all got it wrong. She was there. Moments before, she was there.’

‘You’re embarrassing yourself, Lieutenant… Answer me this. Was Ellie wearing a harness? A lifejacket?’

Blinking, Cooper stared for a minute. Introvertedly he said, ‘No,’

‘And so correct me if I’m wrong, Cooper; you knew Ellie had no idea how to swim, yet you didn’t insist on her wearing a jacket on the yacht? Do the math.’

Cooper grabbed him. And grabbed him hard. ‘You son of a bitch, you’re enjoying this aren’t you, Beau?’

Neill stared coldly. ‘Get your hands off me, Lieutenant.’

There was silence between the two men before Cooper, awash with a sense of defeat, dropped his hold. His hope.

‘I’m asking for your help, Captain. I’ve never asked you for anything. Not when I was a kid. Not as an adult. But I’m asking you now. Please. Please, Beau, I beg you. Send a unit to look for Ellie. Help me bring her back.’

For a moment Captain Neill held Cooper’s gaze. His mouth moved as if about to say something but instead, he turned and walked away without saying another word.

*

‘Lieutenant. Governor Woods has arrived en route from Lamu, he’s asking to speak to you, sir, before we fly him on to see his son in Nairobi.’

Cooper stood in a catatonic state by the ship’s railings as the slightly overweight 3rd petty officer informed him of the arrival. He nodded, too consumed with grief to speak.

‘Thomas, it’s good to see you.’ Woods stopped, realizing his voice seemed too loud. His composure too contrived. Then quietly he tried again. ‘Your Uncle Beau’s just filled me in on everything. I’m sorry about Ellie. It’s devastating. I liked her a lot.’

Continuing to stare out to sea as the night’s sky merged with the darkness of the ocean, Cooper answered. Barely. ‘And if you hadn’t, you wouldn’t be sorry?’

John Woods, the newly elected Governor of Illinois, pulled gently on his arm. Turning Cooper round to face him. ‘Hey, you know I didn’t mean that. Come on, Coop, don’t make me your enemy. I’m on your side.’

Cooper’s tone was flat. He sighed. Noticed the painful sunburn on Woods’s nose. Then a memory came to mind of how proud Jackson had been of him when he was elected Governor. ‘She’s alive. I know it. I can feel it… What? You’re going to tell me I didn’t see three skiffs as well?’

‘No… No. I just…’ The Governor trailed off before continuing a moment later. ‘What the hell happened out there anyway?’

Cooper said nothing. His thoughts trailed away. It’d only been this morning that he’d been laughing with Ellie. So pleased. So delighted. So happy she’d decided to come and see him.

The trip to Kenya had been a last minute, spur of the moment kind of holiday for Ellie, Jackson and John. The one time everyone’s diaries had coincided, but the driving force had definitely been Ellie.

Having been deployed to the naval base in Lamu – setting up and heading a new counter piracy taskforce in the area – Ellie had missed Cooper, and although his military training and experience had taught him to dissociate, damn, he’d missed her too.

Finding out he’d had a week off, Ellie had decided to fly out and visit, and when she’d mentioned it to Jackson – who she’d known almost fifteen years – he’d decided to come too. And then there was John, who, having always wanted to go on safari, and having a rare few days off, had taken the opportunity to join them as well. It’d been perfect. But like the petals of a rose, perfect never lasted.

Woods interrupted Cooper’s thoughts. Gently encouraging him, pushing him to talk.

‘Coop…? Tell me what happened.’

‘Okay. Alright… So you’d already left to go on safari. Ellie thought it’d be cool for us to all sail up the coast on the yacht we hired and have a picnic. I didn’t see a problem and Jackson was up for it. When we got there I anchored up. Had something to eat. And that was it really.’

‘Coop, come on, you guys were found just a few miles off the coast of Somalia. There’s no way you of all people would’ve sailed into danger and put anyone, especially Ellie or Jackson, at risk.’

‘Look, I was in charge of the yacht, so there’s no-one else to blame…’

‘Just tell me what happened. I want to hear it.’

‘It was hot. She was tired. So Ellie and I went downstairs for a sleep. I dunno, maybe I shouldn’t have done… Anyway, when I woke up… I knew we were in trouble.’

‘So it was Jackson.’

‘But he didn’t know the dangers. He’s a great yachtsman so I guess he wouldn’t have seen the harm in it.’

‘Jesus.’

Governor Woods leant on the railings.

Cooper spoke matter-of-factly. ‘I’m going to say it was me.’

The shock in the Governor’s voice was as clear as it was in his eyes. ‘What the hell for?’

‘Jackson. He’d been drinking.’

‘Oh, Christ.’

‘If I say it was me, it should really be the end of it.’

‘Not sure if the Navy will see it like that.’

Cooper shrugged his shoulders. ‘So I get disciplined. You know something, John? I really don’t care anymore.’

Woods shook his head. ‘No, I can’t let you do that.’

‘What’s the alternative? They find out Jackson was drinking, and then what? You really think the Kenyan authorities will just give him a slap on the wrist when he was drunk in charge of a vessel and caused…’ Cooper stopped, unable and unwilling to finish the sentence.

‘I don’t know, Coop.’

‘Well, I do. And I also know what a hell-hole a Kenyan jail will be. We both know Jackson couldn’t cope for a day in somewhere like that, let alone serve a long prison sentence. I won’t do that to him. Or to you. There’s your job to think about.’

‘Look, this isn’t about my job.’

‘Oh yeah? Try telling the opposing party that. You know what’s it like, they’ll want to destroy you, John. They look for anything. And even though this has nothing to do with you, it’ll affect your political career… Jackson’s so proud of what you’ve achieved. Let him continue being proud.’

‘Governor Woods, excuse me, sir…’ The 3rd petty officer walked towards Cooper and Woods, slightly hesitant after what he’d seen happen to his colleague earlier.

He said, ‘Sorry to disturb you sir, but your helicopter is ready to take you to the hospital.’

‘Thank you, officer, just give me a minute.’

Woods turned to Cooper. Face taut with stress. Mirroring each other. ‘Okay. Do what you have to do… But Tom, this conversation never happened.’

He began to walk away but stopped. Quietly said,

‘I really am sorry about Ellie. Maybe you should go and see the Medic. He can give you something. You’ve had a shock.’

Cooper didn’t mean to sound so bitter, but he knew he did. ‘Pop a pill to make it alright? Make it all go away, John?’

‘That’s not what I’m saying.’

‘Thanks but no thanks. I’ve never been a believer in medicating myself and I’m not about to start now.’

‘Well okay, it was just a thought… And I’m here for you. If you need to talk, you know where I am.’

Cooper nodded slowly. Tried to smile. Gave up. ‘I appreciate that. Keep me informed about Jackson… And hey, put some cream on that nose, it looks sore.’

Absentmindedly, Woods touched the sunburn on his face, wincing slightly. ‘You know, Cooper, the hardest thing to do is to let someone we love go. But you have to, Tom. You have to let her go.’

Present Day

Eritrea – Horn of Africa Mai Edaga detention center

1

Thomas J. Cooper knew there were moments in life when you only had one chance. One shot. One opportunity to get it right. And he also knew such moments were often lost. Often wasted. Went unseen. But as he stood in the solidity of darkness, in his tomb-like cell, unshod and ankle deep in human waste, Cooper trusted his moment would come soon. And when it did, hell, there was no way he was going to lose it.

His tomb – part prison cell, part grave – was a hole in the ground. The place he’d been lowered into when he’d first been brought to the detention center, however many days ago that’d been.

The bodies of the unknown decomposing dead surrounded him; the ones who were still alive thinking their nameless brothers were the lucky ones. For the uncharged, untried prisoners of Mai Edaga, death would be their only salvation. A deliverance from the near ritualistic daily torture and the searing, crippling heat from the sheet of corrugated metal covering the hole, which acted like a furnace in the Eritrean sun.

The scraping sound of the cover being dragged off the hole had Cooper, along with the other men, protecting their eyes from the burning light.

‘Out.’ The guard – rich black skin, dressed in a knee-length shirt over heavy cotton pants – wiped away the veil of sweat forming on his upper lip. He sniffed contemptuously. Gestured his head to the prisoners.

Whilst the rest of the detainees fought to scrabble out of the hole, using the rotting corpses as a step to reach the edge and pull themselves out, Cooper waited patiently for an elderly man to climb up at the only point which didn’t require such extreme measures.

Once out, the guard sneered and jeered and jabbed the steel muzzle of his gun aggressively into Cooper’s stomach.

It took more than a minute before Cooper shifted his gaze from the gun to the guard. Lifting his eyes slowly. Staring with cutting derision. Then a wry smile spread across his face.

The guard’s broken English was deep. Guttural. He said, ‘What so funny James Dean?’

It was an anomalous reference from a bygone era as if somehow the guard, like the wild barren landscape Cooper found himself standing in, was frozen in time.

In stark contrast to the guard’s voice was the lilt of Cooper’s soft Missouri accent, scornful in its gentle defiance. ‘I don’t have to explain anything to anybody.’

The guard’s hostility darkened. Angered. Aware that he was somehow being mocked, though ignorant of the fact the reply had been a line from an old James Dean movie.

The butt of the guard’s gun smashed into the side of Cooper’s face.

‘What do you say now Americano?’

He stumbled back and it took a moment for him to recover. Longer than he wanted. But it hurt. Real bad. Shot pain waves through his entire body, setting his jawline on fire. But he was damned if he was going to show it… Never did.

Wiping his mouth and tasting the salty blood trickling from his lips, he locked his stare with the guard’s. Stepped forward. Pushed his stomach onto the muzzle of the gun.

‘Haven’t they ever told you?’

‘Told me what?’

Cooper winked. Whispered. ‘Never take on a crazy guy who’s got nothing left to lose.’

The guard, unnerved and taken aback by Cooper’s apparent fearlessness, took a few seconds to regain his composure. ‘Less of your mouth Americano… Now, move it!’

He pushed Cooper towards the line of barefoot prisoners waiting to walk the scorching six kilometre trek through the rough, hard, brutal terrain, to bring back heavy hessian sacks full of rice which tore mercilessly at the men’s hands, leaving them with painful open sores.

And the sun beat down. Ruthless and fierce and unrelenting, and the guard shouted and fired his gun giving the men no choice but to set off.

*

Ten minutes into the journey and the ground was unforgiving. Sharp stones cut into Cooper’s feet but he knew better than to stop, the guards being crueller than any barren land.

Vehicles made their way dangerously fast down the unmarked rocky track. Like giant clouds of powdered cinnamon, the sands swirled densely, high above the road. A battered truck sped along towards them as Cooper and his fellow prisoners approached a huddled figure clad in a full blue chadri, sat beside the road. Their face was entirely covered with dense material, save the small section around the eyes which was laced with a net grille.

As the empty sheep truck slowed down, coming to a noisy stop, Cooper stared at the driver. Locking eyes. Holding his gaze. And then he knew. This was the moment. The one chance he’d been waiting for.

With arresting speed and a quick glance round, he rotated his body and a caught the gun which was thrown to him by the huddled figure in blue, who now stood up, revealing the weapon concealed underneath their chadri. Cooper aimed the gun at the guard.

To the chants and cries and calls and yells of the other inmates of Mai Edaga, Cooper fired warning shots towards the guard, as his disguised associate jumped in the waiting truck. He fired a few more shots for caution. For himself. For every dead man who never made it… For every dead man that was still there.

‘Cooper…! Come on…! Come on…! Jump in!’

Thomas J. Cooper did just that.

2

‘What kept you?’

Cooper was wired. And he could feel his eyes were wild with adrenalin as the truck sped and raced along the rough sand terrain. He broke into a smile which made him flinch as his parched, inflamed lips cracked further. He licked them in the hope of some relief. There wasn’t any. But damn, it tasted good. Freedom always did.

Levi Walker, a small stocky black man from Connecticut, with a cynical outlook on life, kept his eyes on the road as he spoke. ‘Oh, I don’t know, Coop, maybe a few thousand miles of sand. That, and the tiny matter of the Eritrean government.’

A woman’s voice came from the back. ‘More like deciding whether or not to bother getting your ass out of trouble… Again.’ Cooper swivelled round in the vehicle’s hard front seat, watching as she busily took off the chadri she’d been wearing. Grinned. Leant his well-built but battered body across the seat. Stretched over to the back where she was sitting. And landed a large kiss on her cheek.

Soft.

Warm.

Everything he hadn’t had for the past few weeks.

He said, ‘It’s good to see you too, Maddie… and you should keep that chadri, it’s a good look on you.’

Levi Walker burst into laughter. ‘Maybe I should take one home for Mrs. Walker. Save me having to look at her sour face across the breakfast table in the mornings.’

Cooper shook his head. He liked Levi. Always did. Always had. And he knew he couldn’t say that about a lot of guys. ‘Who wouldn’t have a sour face if they’d been married to you for the last twenty years? Beats me why Dorothy hasn’t thrown you out a long time ago… Oh shit, we’ve got company.’

Maddie span round and watched as a sheep lorry, driven by the prison guards, drove up behind them on the narrow mountain road, ramming into their tailgate and bucking them forward. She glanced quickly to her left; nothing but a crumbling sheer drop down to the hillside below. ‘Won’t this thing go any faster?’

‘I’ve got my foot right down on the gas! Our only hope is that their truck turns out to be slower than ours.’

Grabbing hold of the Heckler & Koch UMP 40 on the seat next to him, Cooper pulled back the folding stock. Leant his body out of the window. Began to fire at the truck as it continued to ram into them.

He shouted at Levi, ‘Keep it straight!’

‘I can’t! The road’s too bumpy. Too many potholes and any closer to the side, we’re going over!’