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

Without saying another word, and holding onto the truck’s roof handle, Cooper leant out of the window and began to fire at the truck behind as they veered precariously close to the edge.

The forty calibre shots ricocheted off the hood as Cooper struggled to get a good aim, as his hand shook and the truck bounced around.

‘Give it to me, Tom…! Now!’ Climbing over her seat, Maddie snatched the closed bolt weapon out of Cooper’s hands and pushed across the selector switch to fully automatic. ‘Hold on to me!’ she shouted at him over the sound of the racing engine. ‘And make it tight!’

Without waiting she pushed open the passenger door which swung out over the three hundred foot drop, and as Cooper held onto her waist she leant out over the deadly drop and expertly aimed and held her hand steady and cut out everything around her and closed one eye and aimed at the truck’s tyre…

Bullseye.

The front left wheel exploded into a mix of sound and shreds of rubber, and Maddie watched as the driver of the vehicle fought with the steering wheel as if he were driving a herd of wild horses. And as she pumped a last hail of bullets into the other tyre, the guards’ truck came to a screeching halt, millimetres from going over the edge.

Closing her eyes for a moment and breathing deeply, Maddie gave a last glance to the drop below and, helped by Cooper, carefully sidled back into her seat. Put on the safety lock of the submachine gun. Threw it down on the floor. Turned to Cooper and said, ‘You’re a total jackass.’

‘But you, Maddison, you’re something else and the best shot around and that’s why we all love you.’ He winked. Caught the look of incredulity on her face. And he knew her well enough to know she was pissed. Well and truly.

‘You think this is funny do you, Tom? None of this is funny. Not even close. I told you a long time ago that I’m not going through this crap again, you hear me? You could’ve been killed in that place and we could’ve all been killed just now. I thought you’d finished with all this. Remember? Remember your promises to stop this crap? But oh no. Suddenly you’re playing action hero again, whilst Levi and I put our jobs on the line – not to mention our necks – and it’s not over yet. We still have to get over the border. You really need to start growing up, because there’s a lot of people who rely on you.’

Levi swerved the truck, only narrowly avoiding hitting the carcass of a large goat lying in the middle of the road. ‘Seriously Maddie,’ he said. ‘Do this some other time. He’ll be wishing he’s back in Mai Edaga.’

Watching a fly hitch a ride on the truck as they weaved up the mountain trail, Cooper rubbed his head. Felt the tiredness beginning to hit. He’d barely slept for the past few days, partly because of the cramped conditions in Mai Edaga, but mainly because he hadn’t wanted to let down his guard.

‘No, it’s cool,’ he said. ‘Maddie’s right. It isn’t funny, but honey, you know it’s just our way to get through stuff. I’m sorry though, okay?’

Maddie, not interested in being appeased – not interested in anything Cooper had to say – snapped angrily. ‘That’s bullshit, Tom. Bullshit! You’re not sorry. You never are. But like I said before, I won’t be part of it anymore.’

‘Maddie, come on, I…’

‘No, Tom, I don’t want to hear it. I’ve heard it, too many times. But the worst thing is, I’ve fallen for it too many times, but you can bet your ass not this time.’

Cooper turned to appeal to Levi, who was driving hard up the mountainside, wanting to get to the Ethiopian border before night fall. ‘Levi, help me out here.’

‘Bro, you know I love you man but on this one, Maddie’s right. You know that. It’s some crazy stuff you got yourself into back there. We all know you’re good at what you do. The best. But… hell, I dunno, recently it feels like you’re always looking for the edge and you wouldn’t care if you fell off. I don’t know what’s happened. It’s like we’re back in the past. And they were bad days, bro. Real bad days. And I’ll tell you something else for free, I’m not looking forward to the crap we’ll get when Granger realizes we took off to come and find you…’

Levi ended his sentence with a whistle to emphasis his words, as was his habit.

Resigned, Cooper said, ‘Leave Granger to me.’

Changing gears and grinding the gear box, Levi shook his head. ‘Listen Coop, I know you’ve pulled me out of some near misses. Jeez, I probably wouldn’t be here today if it wasn’t for you, but those days are over and I thought they were for you as well. We all did. I left the Navy to have a peaceful life, man, and apart from Mrs. Walker bitching every day, that’s what I get. I’m not looking for excitement, I’m looking to earn money and go fishing. Fishing and money. The only two things that matter. Everything else, especially women – sorry Maddie – is too much of a headache. But you and whatever’s going on, well it’s some kind of crazy.’

Maddie sighed, ‘I don’t get it, Tom, why make everything harder? Why do this after all this time?’

Cooper opened the tepid bottle of water Levi had passed him earlier. Drank it down. Didn’t seem to quench his thirst. Sighed. Knew he should have some patience. Because he got it. God knows he got what she was trying to say. Problem was, he didn’t want to hear it. Not now. Not ever. He said, ‘Christ, Maddie, can’t you just leave it? I’m just doing my job. That’s all.’

Red with anger and frustration and pain at not being able to get her words out properly, Maddie spluttered. ‘No. No you’re not. This has nothing to do with the job. We both know that. And we both know who it’s about.’

Levi took his eyes off the road to shoot her a hard stare. A stare which Cooper had no doubt he’d been practising for Mrs Walker. ‘Leave it, Maddie… She don’t mean nothing by it, Coop. We’re all upset.’

Tying back her long corkscrew brown hair in a tight ponytail, Maddie’s face was flushed. Red like a fever. ‘Yes I do mean something by it. Don’t tell me I don’t, Levi, and what’s more, don’t get into my business.’

Levi Walker, always hoping he and confrontation had parted company a long time ago, tried to smooth down the situation, though he couldn’t help thinking how scarily like his wife Maddie was when she had something bugging her.

‘Hey guys, listen. Let’s not get into a fight. It’s been a tough day and Cooper, you look beat. And although I know he’ll never say it, Maddie, I bet he had one helluva tough time in that detention center. We’ve still got a long-ass drive in front of us, but the sooner we get to the border, the better. The plane we chartered from Addis Ababa is thirty miles west from there. We’ll fly it back to the airport and then tomorrow there are three tickets with our names on. So it’ll be goodbye Africa, hello USA.’

Levi’s attempt at peace-making fell short of the mark for Maddie. Always did. Never got close.

‘Shut the hell up, Levi. I want Tom to admit it that the whole thing in Eritrea, it wasn’t about the job.’

‘Maddie,’ said Cooper. ‘Enough.’

‘You don’t get off that easily. It’s started again, hasn’t it? But what I don’t know is why… Come on Tom, I want you to admit this is about Ell… ’

Cooper’s voice raised. Shouted. Shot her down as he interrupted. ‘Don’t say it…! You hear me? Just don’t.’ He paused. Clenched his fist to stop the past pouring in. Turned away to watch the unfamiliar countryside speed by. But even after a minute, all Thomas J. Cooper could manage was a whisper. ‘Just don’t say it, Maddie… Levi, wake me up when we get there.’

Cooper closed his eyes. Goddamn it the woman drove him mad. But he supposed that was part of her job. It was what women did.

Like Levi, he’d known Maddie for over twenty years and all that time she’d never changed. Tough and strong and loyal and caring and intelligent as hell. Put most men he knew to shame. But that didn’t mean she didn’t get under his skin.

He’d met her on the first day of Aviation Officer Candidate School at the beginning of his military career. The three of them were all tight friends. Been through tough times, and looking back he knew it’d made them stronger.

Even when he’d left the military they’d kept in touch. Or rather, Levi and Maddie had kept in touch with him. But he hadn’t appreciated it. After the accident he wanted to be allowed to hide away from the world, so he could be consumed by his own grief. His own loss. His own guilt. But they hadn’t let him. Not even for a moment.

The job they were now in, that had been Maddie’s idea, when she and Levi’s commissions in the Navy had come to an end. They’d both joined Onyx, an aviation and marine asset recovery company, specializing in tracking down high value commercial and private boats and planes for banks, leasing companies and, on occasion, the US government. Stolen, involved in a crime, or left with payments outstanding, it was their job as investigators to find them and bring them back. From wherever. However. And from whoever.

He had known Dax Granger, the owner of the firm, even before the others had, and being an experienced pilot as well as having a SEAL background, he’d been ideal for the job. It had taken a while for Maddie to persuade him to leave fixing up his ranch in Colorado, which never seemed to get fixed, and five years ago he had succumbed to the pressure. Joined the firm. Got his investigator license, thinking it was all a bit of a joke.

But quickly he’d learnt there was nothing funny about it at all. The first job he’d investigated had been to track down a Learjet 60XR, the purchaser not having kept up with the repayments. It was a beautifully crafted plane. But what he’d found inside had been at odds with both the plane and the quiet splendour of the Tahitian island he’d traced it to. Inside were the bodies of three women. Raped and killed. The owner of the plane? Whereabouts unknown.

The local police closed the case before it had really opened. But the vision of the women had sat inside his head, and much to Levi’s and Maddie’s dismay and protestations and objections, he’d tracked down the women’s families to let them know what’d happened to their mothers, sisters, daughters. Because to him it was the not knowing which killed you.

The job paid well. But it wasn’t about the money. Not for him. Especially not at the beginning. For the first year of working for Onyx he’d found himself most interested in the investigations which took him to Africa. And he knew why. And eventually everyone else did too… It had given him the permission. The reason. The opportunity to keep looking. To keep searching for her.

God knows he wasn’t good at remembering the past. Or maybe it was more a case of not wanting to. Too many shadows. Too many memories hiding round corners, things not even a loaded gun could protect him from. So he kept on pushing forward. Not stopping. Not caring, but always hoping and wanting and needing to know he’d been right all those years ago when he’d believed she was still alive. Somewhere in this beautiful, dark yet dangerous sprawling mistress called Africa.

But then things had changed. He’d stopped looking for her. Not because he’d wanted to, but because it’d been the right thing to do. Or that’s what they’d told him. That’s what his therapist had told him. And he’d made promises. Vows. And he’d kept to them. Until now. Because now was different.

The days he’d spent in the hole in Mai Edaga, that was stupid. A mistake. Nobody’s fault but his own. He knew that. The rule was if you had no papers, or if international relations with the country were volatile, just find the plane and fly it the hell out without being seen.

Eritrea had ticked both boxes. No papers, and no international relations with America to speak of. But instead of leaving when he should have done, for the first time since he’d made the promise to stop looking, just over four years ago, he’d taken the opportunity. Broken his promises and headed south, hoping to speak to a tribe of the Rashaida, a nomadic Arabic-speaking people, living predominantly in scattered areas of western Eritrea, wanting to know if they knew anything. Seen anything. Heard anything… about her.

But he’d been spotted by authorities. Accused of being a political spy and thrown into the detention center with no access to anything even slightly resembling an American consul. But then taking such stupid risks came with consequences. Danger. He of all people knew that. And at times he thought he lived for that. It was one of the few things which made him feel.

He also knew that was part of his problem.

Although he hadn’t known how and when, he knew Maddie and Levi would track him down and come. As they’d always done in the past. And he owed them. Both of them. But especially Maddie, for more reasons than one.

Abruptly. Cutting through the silence of his thoughts, Maddie spoke, in the high-pitched tone which made it impossible for him to ignore no matter how much he tried. ‘You know what I don’t understand is why you want to go that little bit further? What are you trying to prove? You wanna see if it breaks? Well it does, Tom. It has. We all do eventually and you of all people should know that.’

Opening his eyes. Slowly. Cooper looked at her. Sighed real heavy. ‘Listen, I made a mistake, deciding to travel through Eritrea. Don’t make this about us, Maddie.’

Maddie shook her head. Her look of disappointment hitting him like an ice cold shower.

‘Don’t do that Tom. Don’t try to get me to back off. You’re right, I am making it about us because it is about us. About you. More to the point it’s about her… You know what Tom. Forget it. Just forget the whole goddamn thing.’

Eight miles outside Buziba, Sud-Kivu

Democratic Republic of Congo

3

It was only the sound of the heavy rain which hid the screams. The blood flowed from the palm leaf roofed hut into the red dirt track like a tributary feeding into a river. Inside only an oil light flickered, barely disturbing the darkness. The carcass of a rotted goat writhed and wriggled as maggots fed and moved inside it. The sickly sweet smell of putrefying mounds of blood-covered feathers filled the air.

The villagers sat on the floor, dressed in vibrantly colored cloths with batik print and bold patterns – a stark contrast to the bleak. Taut. Tense atmosphere.

Papa Bemba nodded. Stood on the home made dais next to his folding wooden altar. His face disfigured, mutilated by his own hands. Scarred raised flesh filling the sockets where his eyes should be. It had been the souls of the undead, the spirits of those greater, who’d directed him to gouge out his own eyes. A gift bestowed on him to drive out the evil, allowing him to be the conveyer of all that is pure, and to rid those amongst them of the sorcery within. The darkness of blindness had given him the power along with the vision of the possessed. For now he saw better. Clearer.

His fingers expertly guided him along the body of the naked man lying on the altar. He stopped. Thoughtful for a moment as he felt a lump on the man’s neck, before his furrowed swollen hands moved on, down to the area where his liver lay.

It was there. The evil. The Kindoki spirit. The force of wrong which had taken over this man’s being. Making him defiant. Making him question.

And then Papa Bemba cried out. Flamboyancy lacing his tone as he pressed down on the man’s ribs, rubbing his skin with berries.

‘I have found it. It rises. Pushes out towards the living to harm those gathered. To harm those with child. To harm those who seek a better life. Let us deliver your brother, Emmanuel Mutombo.’

Mutterings of Amen sounded through the hut as Bemba leant over Emmanuel again, pushing his ear down on the man’s face. He could hear the shallow rasps coming from him which told him the spirits were there.

He spoke to those assembled. His voice, trance like. ‘Pray for him. Pray for your brother, Mutombo… Vous êtes le médecin de mon âme. Vous êtes le salut de ceux qui se tournent vers vous. Je vous exhorte à bannir et chasser tous les maux et les esprits des ténèbres.’

He swayed rhythmically and the humming and moaning and chanting became louder.

Yes… yes, he could feel it now. It was time…

And with a sudden movement, Papa Bemba drove his thumbs deep into Emmanuel’s eyes, saving him from the sight of evil in the next life.

Helped by one of the assembled, Bemba, leaving behind Emmanuel, descended from the dais. Moved outside into the pouring Congolese rain and spoke once more to those gathered.

‘Il est temps,’ he said. ‘It is time.’

Kneeling down in the mud, where the wet red clay earth mixed with blood and stained his white and gold dashiki, he took out a piece of charcoal from his pocket. Placed it on the ground near where the other villagers had placed theirs. And shouted out once more.

‘Deliver him…! Deliver him!’

The hut having already being doused with petrol, and the twisted branches of the banana tree piled around, even in the humid, wet rain it took only a single match. A single moment for it to be greedily swallowed up by dancing orange flames.

And as Papa Bemba stood outside, he could feel the heat of the fire. Hear the smothered rasps. The terrified cries of Emmanuel Mutombo amid the crackling and sizzling and splintering noise of the blaze. He smiled. The screams were the sound of the possessed burning. Defeated. Overcome by the righteous. By the chosen one and he, like the other villagers, was satisfied.

*

As the night drew in and darkness set, cementing its rule over the day, a solitary figure, shadowed and blotted out by the night, moved quickly across the mud-logged ground. The noise of breaking branches over the sound of the heavy rain made the man crouch down, hiding behind the tangled foliage of the sprawling forest.

After a while, and deciding it was probably only the sound of the nocturnal animals who roamed and hunted for prey and, like him, didn’t want to be seen, he moved on, hurrying towards the partially burnt down hut – now doused by the heavy rain.

Drawing himself up against it, he looked round, making sure he hadn’t been followed. And it took a moment for him to be assured that darkness had been his advocate; letting him come here without being seen.

Inside the hut he called out. Moving towards the dais. ‘Emmanuel…? Emmanuel? C’est moi.’

The putrid smell from the burnt flesh of Emmanuel Mutombo was overpowering, but a groan – a sign of life – made him speak once more.

‘Emmanuel, I’m here to help you.’

Then picking up Emmanuel, he carried him out into the night, before both of them disappeared into the darkness and sanctuary of the forest.

4

At the Scottsdale airport, Arizona, which served as the home for many of the area’s corporate aircraft, Levi Walker wiped the sweat from his forehead.

‘Man, I’m hot. I got to get me a cold drink. I can almost taste the beer on my lips.’

Joining Levi by the side of the airstrip, Cooper leant on the hood of Maddie’s truck. His six foot three frame towering over both Maddie and Walker. He gave a crooked smile to his friend, relieved to be on US soil. He’d thought about this moment since Eritrea, and it sure as hell didn’t disappoint.

‘Anyone would think you’d spent the last week in a hot penitentiary, the way you’re talking.’

‘Not me, Coop, no way. I’ll leave that to the crazy folk… Oh crap. Is that who I think it is, Maddie?’

Levi pointed up to the sky. Shielded his eyes from the dazzling sun. Watched as a beautiful Diamond DA62 aircraft with turbocharged Austro AE330 jet fuel piston engines came into view. Soaring down gracefully.

‘I’m afraid so.’

Levi raised his eyebrows. Scratched his newly cornrowed afro and admired the expert landing of the plane. He walked towards it but stopped. Turned back. ‘You know, Coop, I never told you earlier, but it’s good to have you back.’

And in the glaring sun a few hundred meters back from the plane, the warm winds caressed Cooper’s handsome face and the light bounced off the white body of the aircraft, making it difficult for him to see.

The jet’s door opened and casually he sauntered forward. Greeted the pilot with warm words and a gesture of his hand.

‘Hey! Good to see you, Granger.’

The punch to Cooper’s jaw was quick. Hard. Knocked his head sideward. He touched his lip with his tongue and tasted the spring of blood. He stared back at Granger. Said nothing.

‘If you ever. Ever, do anything like this again, you’re out. You got that Cooper? You want to play Superman, maybe you should’ve done that when it mattered.’

Cooper lunged forward, but although he was angry he let Maddie grab him, letting the familiarity of her touch calm him down.

‘Don’t like the truth Cooper? Neither do I.’

Granger rubbed his face, red from stress. He turned to Maddie and Levi. ‘I expected better from you Maddison, thought you were the one who was supposed to have a sensible head on. And as for you, Levi, never, ever try to pull a fast one on me again.’

And with that he stomped back to the plane, stamping his feet into the dust, followed by Levi.

Cooper watched on, unable to move. Resentment had a funny way of doing that to him. Granger had a funny way of doing that to him. He felt Maddie touch his arm gently.

‘It’s only because he cares, Tom. We were all worried. I don’t know what you expected. You can’t just go around doing what you want and think it won’t hurt others. Because it does… It really does.’

Without bothering to say anything, Cooper lit a cigarette before walking over to join the others. Something told him this was going to be one helluva day.

5

Cooper wasn’t sure what had woken him up. Knowing it could have been one of many things he decided not to dwell on it. Even though the Colorado night was cool . Chill. Both he and the white linen sheets which Levi, or rather Levi’s wife Dorothy, had bought him last year for Thanksgiving were drenched in sweat. He kicked them off. Sighed away the images of the past which had awoken and were playing in his head like a movie reel.

Reaching across he grabbed one of the many bottles of pills by the side of his bed. It didn’t matter which. As long as they worked. How many he took, it didn’t matter to him either, though tonight it happened to be three. Two OxyContin and a Xanax always seemed to do the trick.

Rubbing his face and feeling the hurried job he’d done with shaving the night before, Cooper wearily got out of bed to get some water. Just to do something, rather than just lying there. Thinking. Anything was better than that.

He didn’t bother to look at the clock. It was dark. He was tired, which could only mean it was late. Any other information seemed irrelevant. He wasn’t going anywhere, not even to sleep, it seemed.

The sanded wooden stairs felt smooth under foot. It’d taken him the whole of last year’s 4th July holiday weekend to complete them. Unlike the unfinished kitchen of the ranch. Seven years untouched. Semi-masked up, with unopened paint tins with names such as Ancient Map and Cottage Leaf and Proud Peacock, colors he couldn’t even guess without opening the tins, yet colors he and Ellie had argued about when they’d bought them… just before he’d been deployed to Lamu.

He hadn’t seen the point of finishing the kitchen. Not now. He never cooked anyway. At a push he used the microwave to heat up the meals Maddie or Dorothy Walker made for him. Because it was Ellie who’d wanted the big, open plan room with a Sully seven burner stove and a view out over the acres of meadow which ran up to the aspen covered hills and on to the mountain ridges beyond. She’d wanted it. Not him. But like the ranch, which she’d fallen in love with when the realtor had simply shown them photos of it, he’d been happy to give it to her. He’d have given her anything.

So now he was stuck with the ranch along with the paint and the unused brushes and the stove which he’d always thought too big and the view of the goddamn meadow. And the only way he could see round the problem was for her to come back. Come back to him. Just so he could give it to her all over again. Because he needed her to remind him of what the colors were, to prove to him why the hell, when there were just the two of them, they needed seven burners instead of four, but this time, this time, he wouldn’t care if she painted the whole of the goddamn place bright green.