PRIMAL Inception Read Online Free PDF

the six bodies lying face down in the dirt.
    In the months following the massacre, the situation in Kosovo had changed dramatically. A United Nations peacekeeping force, known as KFOR, had finally intervened and the Gray Wolves were disbanded. Along with the rest of the KLA, they had surrendered some of their weapons, buried the rest and waited to see what would happen.
    Their mission complete, Vance was sent to Sierra Leone in western Africa, where the UN peacekeeping effort was on the verge of collapse. Ice remained in Kosovo, posted to the newly established CIA Pristina Station. His task, under the cover of a State Department Security Officer, was to develop a source network to inform on potential threats to US interests. A broad mission that gave him the time and resources to pursue his own agenda; bringing war criminals to justice.
    “It’s down here.”
    The voice snapped Ice back to reality. “Coming.”
    His guide, a Kosovar Albanian, was leading him to the site of a mass killing. It was the last piece of intel he needed before submitting the case to the International Criminal Tribunal for Yugoslavia. The intelligence pack on Kreshnik was the first he had worked on. It had been shut down by both his boss and the ICTY. Since then he’d handed over another five. Three massacres by Serb Yugoslav forces, and two by KLA militias. The ICTY had only shown interest in the Serbian incidents. Albanian atrocities didn’t fit with the narrative justifying intervention in Kosovo. He had not even been given the chance to finish the pack on Zahir. The CIA station chief had given him clear direction not to pursue it.
    Reaching the bottom of the valley, Ice followed the guide to the farm. The vacant buildings were weather beaten and run down. That wasn’t surprising; his investigation had revealed the entire family was murdered.
    The guide pointed to a stone-walled barn. “This is where it happened.”
    He ran his fingers across the pock-marked surface, imagining the terror the family must have felt as they were forced against the wall. He took out his camera and snapped photos. Then he walked a dozen feet from the barn, crouched and examined the ground. Pulling on latex gloves, he picked up a shell casing and inspected the Yugoslavian head stamp. More photos.
    He entered the residence through the open door. A musty smell hit him. Birds had built nests in the ceiling and animals had crapped everywhere. The furniture was in disarray, the dining table thrown on its side. On a shelf over the kitchen sink, he found a family photograph. It had been a large household with parents, grandparents, and children; nine in total. His heart lurched as he studied their faces. On the far edge of the photo stood a teenage girl with sandy-blonde hair. She wore a mischievous smile that reminded him of his sister. The inside of the house suddenly felt darker, colder, almost sinister. He snapped a photo of the portrait and hurried outside.
    The guide was waiting. “Over here.”
    Ice weaved between rusting farm equipment and followed him into the forest. As they followed an overgrown trail, he noticed the complete lack of bird life. The woods were eerily silent.
    “This is where they left them.”
    Ice trod forward. Most farms had a refuse pit. This one had been used as a mass grave. The bodies had been flung on top of each other. Discarded like pieces of garbage. The flesh had rotted away but hair and clothing remained. One of the corpses stared up at Ice with empty eye sockets. The jaw hung open in an eternal scream.
    Hands shaking, he lifted the camera and shot a dozen photographs. More senseless killings. Innocents murdered because men like Zahir wanted power. Eye for an eye violence, perpetuated by their need for revenge.
    The guide’s face was gray. “Do you have enough?”
    Ice nodded.
    “Then we can go.”
    They walked quickly out of the valley, not looking back.
    “I’ll drop you at your village,” Ice said when they reached the