Wilco- Lone Wolf 19

by Geoff Wolak

I was in civvy clothes, but armed. ‘Just wondering if everything is OK.’ I found a lounge full, his wife, son, daughter and the daughter's boyfriend.

  ‘Here comes trouble,’ his wife let out, but did so with a smile at least.

  Pete gestured towards me but addressed the teenage lad. ‘This is my boss, Major Wilco.’

  The lad was excited to meet me. ‘I read the book.’

  ‘It’s accurate,’ I told him, his girlfriend, Robby's daughter, offering me a drink, and gushing a little, noticed by Robby.

  I faced Robby's wife. ‘Do … er … do the families here worry about security?’

  ‘Of course, but we're used to it.’

  I nodded, fetching out a wad of cash. ‘Take a nice holiday, on me.’

  ‘You can't hand my wife money, she'll run off and leave me!’ Robby mock protested.

  His wife told him, ‘My sister is in Tenerife with mum, and you know how much you like them...’

  He was on the spot, a glance at me. ‘A week in Tenerife for you, without me, great idea.’

  ‘Two weeks, at least,’ she told him with a glare.

  I told her, ‘He couldn't make it anyway, we have a job on.’

  She sat counting the cash, the lad asking me questions for ten minutes, the daughter still gushing.

  I led Robby outside. ‘There's no job on, if you want to go to Tenerife.’

  He glanced over his shoulder. ‘With her mum and sister? I'd take my own life first!’

  I smiled widely. ‘That’s what I figured. But … what is the mood of the families?’

  ‘They're used to it, and the kids all boast about it – they think it’s cool. But … is there a new threat?’

  ‘Maybe, someone I upset.’

  ‘That’s a long fucking list!’

  I nodded. ‘Getting longer.’

  Walking to the pub, I thought about Cecilia, but I did not want anyone following me to her place. Sighing, I figured I was just being foolish. Inside, I got a pint and sat with the gang, Swifty wandering in, civvy clothes but with a combat jacket over the top. He got a pint and sat.

  ‘Well?’ I asked.

  ‘They committed my mum, yesterday, whether I liked that or not. Uncle's place is worth more than two hundred grand, mum's place is worth sixty, but I have to sell it. If she lives for another twenty years, and she might, all the money from the house would be gone. They don't know about my uncle's house, and – well – it’s mine not hers, so I can't be asked to pay for the funny farm.

  ‘Nurse there told me that if the money runs out they have to keep her there anyhow, so … fine.’ He sipped his drink.

  ‘Did it hurt, seeing her like that?’

  He stared into his beer and nodded. ‘Kinda hope I take a bullet, not get old.’

  Moran told him, ‘We'll do our best for you.’

  We all smiled.

  Coming back from the toilet I noticed the two new men wandering in, padded jackets and hard faces. All eyes were now on the men, my men reaching into jackets. I reached into my own, and from the corner of my eye I saw ten pistols aimed at the men, both of whom stopped dead, the barmaid running off. Tomo closed in on them from the side, pistol level.

  I told the men. ‘Open your jackets!’

  They glanced at each other.

  ‘Do you even speak English?’ I asked.

  The lead man checked the pistols pointed at him. A hand went into a pocket, my two rounds to the man's chest knocking him back as a roar of pistol fire tore up the flesh of the two visitors.

  ‘Grenade!’ Tomo shouted, grabbing it and dumping it behind the bar. ‘Down!’

  I knelt, the blast smashing the glass bottles, a scream rising up from the kitchens. I stood as my men rushed in to check the bodies, the men's pistols removed, my phone out as smoke wafted.

  ‘Duty Officer.’

  ‘It’s Wilco, at the pub outside my base, GL4. Shots fired, grenade has gone off, two X-rays down. I need the fire brigade, ambulances ... and some containment.’

  I could hear ‘Broken Arrow’ shouted in the background. ‘Broken Arrow?’ I queried as the smoke wafted.

  ‘It’s the code word we use for an attack at GL4, it sets in motion a number of things, saves time and makes sure we don't miss anything. What you can't see is ten people rushing around and on the phones. A minute from now, police near you will hear the same code word, and know what it is.’

  ‘I didn't think we were attacked that often.’

  ‘Ha.’

  I went and found the owner and reassured him that we would pay the damages, and that we were very sorry.

  Robby burst in, pistol in hand. He stood shaking his head at me.

  I asked him, ‘How's that trip to Tenerife looking?’

  ‘I'll take the danger over a week or two with her in-laws.’

  With the guys taking the piss out of Robby I stepped out, a check of the car pack, sirens soon sounding out as patrol cars sped towards us, CT police and MPs running up to me.

  I shouted, ‘Check all the car number plates, fast, and look for a bomb!’

  My phone trilled. ‘It’s David. Are you OK?’

  ‘Yeah, two amateurs, tough men with hard stares walking into our local pub. They had ten guns on them in before they even ordered a pint and a packet of crisps.’

  ‘PM wants blood, our ambassador is in a bad way. He even suggested that you head up the investigation, a quiet investigation.’

  ‘Bloody hell. Is he mad? My lads don't do quiet.’

  ‘Still, someone shot our ambassador, and now an attack at your local pub.’

  ‘Our Dutch friend maybe, if he is Dutch – which I doubt. You want me to go find this man?’

  ‘Yes, and that comes from the top. Call for what resources you need, and … work fast.’

  Phone down, I stared at it, the car park full of panicked men searching cars.

  ‘Wilco, this car is foreign!’

  ‘Break the windows, then push it down the road, then blow it up! And fast!’

  The Fire Brigade arrived, ambulances, Robby shaking his head at me as he headed home.

  I called Cecilia. ‘It’s me.’

  ‘Hey you.’

  ‘Listen, I'm knee deep in dead bodies at my base -'

  ‘Oh my god.’

  ‘You'll see it in the news, but don't worry, I'm fine, just that … I'm busy. Where are you?’

  ‘At the cottage.’

  ‘Pack a bag, get out now, go somewhere with people, somewhere secure.’

  ‘You serious?’

  ‘Yes, just a precaution, but do it. I don't need to be worrying about you with a job to do here.’

  ‘You take care. And call me.’

  ‘I will do.’ I hung up, and sighed heavily.

  ‘Problems?’ Swifty asked.

  ‘My new girl.’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘I … worry about her, about someone following me to her.’

  He took in the melee around us. ‘If someone caught up with her, knowing she meant something to you...’

  We exchanged worried, knowing looks.

  I told him, ‘Man behind this, we'll go after him, hard and fast.’ I walked back to the base, CT police in tow, MP Pete close by, and we drove around to the hanger, Rocko inside and kitted for war.

  ‘They blew up the pub?’ he angrily asked

  ‘No, that was Tomo throwing a grenade.’

  ‘Tomo! I'll fucking kill him!’

  I smiled. ‘The grenade was dropped by the bad boys, he dumped it over the bar.’

  ‘Still, he damaged the damn bar, I'll kill him anyway – he should have put his body on it.’

  Smiling, I bound up the steps. In the Intel Room, the night teams in, I found Major Harris on duty oddly enough. I began, ‘We have a job on, top priority from the Prime Minister, so I want everyone in tomorrow.

  ‘This is about the ship that blew up and sank. It had a shit load of drugs, and the underworld thinks that our Navy sank it. You may have heard that our am
bassador in Amsterdam was shot, and the drugs were headed that way.

  ‘So, the man who owned those drugs is mad as hell, and has some good hired help. Money opens mouths. He figures we sunk his drugs, and … now this attack on us here.

  ‘If we assume that the attack here is connected, then he has a friend in the establishment, someone who can connect my tip-off to London back to me. At the moment, that’s less than twenty people.’

  ‘Jesus,’ Harris let out. ‘Another high-level mole.’

  ‘Perhaps, if the attack here is linked, we don't know yet.’

  I made a cup of tea and issued instructions, to get the detail of the ambassador incident, plus an Interpol list of the largest drug shippers in Europe, plus any intel on drug shipments through Amsterdam. Faxes started to pour in, Sanderson returning, and in uniform.

  ‘Sir?’ I queried. It was 10pm.

  ‘If there's a shit storm on, I want to be here,’ he loudly and adamantly stated. ‘Before the blame gets apportioned!’

  The blast had us all worried. I called the gatehouse. ‘What was that?’

  ‘The foreign car, they brought it down here rather than leave it on a civvy street, pushed it up towards the north woods -'

  ‘Is that road north ready?’ I puzzled.

  ‘It’s a gravel track so far, gate this end.’

  ‘Anyone hurt?’

  ‘Two CT police knocked off their feet, but OK, a few rude words.’

  ‘How's the pub?’

  ‘No fire, being searched for bombs, Ordnance on their way, bodies were removed.’

  ‘Were they dead?’ I teased.

  ‘Each hit twenty times, so questions will be asked.’

  I sighed. ‘Another enquiry.’ Phone down, I explained it to Sanderson as others listened in. I finally told them, ‘Prime Minister has handed this one to me, to us, so … we find them and we go kill them, simple as that.’

  Sanderson called the team together, white board set up, a plan of action created.

  I stepped outside into the cold dark night, finding Rocko arguing with Tomo, a crowd gathered. Seems that Tomo was not about to throw himself on a grenade, Nicholson laughing.

  I called Bob Staines. ‘You awake?’

  ‘Yes, and watching the news. British Ambassador shot?’

  ‘Your next assignment, and go all out. The boat that sunk off Cornwall, it had three tonnes of cocaine and five tonnes of weed.’

  ‘So someone is out of pocket, and mad as hell. Did the Navy sink it?’

  ‘No, Tomsk found out about it, tipped off the Bolivians, and they snuck a bomb on board.’

  ‘Hurting their rivals, but now the UK is caught in the middle of it.’

  ‘Drugs belonged to a main Nicaraguan gang, sub-leasing through a Puerto Rican gang, so do some research. What I need to find out is who the European main man is, then go kill him. So, ask around, who could handle that amount of drugs.’

  ‘I'll make a start, someone must know something, it was a hell of a shipment.’

  ‘Look for people rushing to buy drugs to fill the hole, offer to sell to them, get a meet set-up. PM has handed me this one.’

  ‘He has? That’s … odd, and an affront to Mi5 and Mi6, and the police.’

  ‘I have the contacts, they don't, but yes – odd. I was surprised.’

  ‘Be careful, don't need to upset anyone.’

  ‘David passed it to me, and I work for him, so … this is an Mi6 operation. Listen, stay up late, make calls, offer large rewards, I need some movement on this fast.

  ‘We had two men walk into the pub at the base, grenade in hand, both shot dead. Might not be related, but if it is then this drug czar has a mole high up in our Intel.’

  ‘Bloody hell. Another link to the Belgian bank?’

  ‘Let’s hope not. Any stragglers our there?’ I asked.

  ‘All on the run, no major players left, French arrested dozens. All the underworld scum now know that being associated with the bank is a death sentence. They're running scared.’

  ‘And Leon? How is he?’

  ‘Still affected by the loss of Casper, and he blames himself. He's struggling on.’

  ‘I'll try and meet him again at some point.’ I walked back to the hangar, the debate still raging. ‘Tomo! Next time, do the decent thing and jump on the grenade, the bar will be out if use for weeks.’ Grinning at Rocko, I left them to argue.

  In the Intel Room, Harris began, ‘We have the largest drug dealers by size, not their height but estimated size of shipments annually.’

  ‘Any Dutch?’

  ‘Not a one. Most are East European as you can imagine, one in the south of France, some Italian Mafia.’

  ‘Ask GCHQ for any links between any of them and Puerto Rico or Nicaragua.’

  David called.

  'Working late, Boss?’ I asked.

  ‘Panic on, over the ambassador, alerts sent out. Anyhow, your two stiffs are from Moldova. And, wait for it, registered at an art college in London for visas.’

  I laughed. ‘Yes, they looked the type for pottery classes.’

  ‘We're looking at their known associates now, a request in to Moldova, but the police there are … lax and corrupt; whoever sent them will know soon enough.’

  ‘Phone usage?’

  ‘GCHQ is on it now, they have two mobile numbers and one Chinese sat phone. These two boys were not the smartest bunch in art class, the last numbers called were not deleted.’

  I smiled. ‘Pottery students are just not as good as they used to be.’

  Called ended, Tinker walked in.

  ‘What you doing here at this hour?’ I wondered.

  ‘Got called in by Mister Sanderson, said it was urgent.’

  I pulled a face. ‘Could have worked from home. Anyhow, your mob just got the phones, and some juicy numbers. Call them, tell them we're here all night and to get a move on.’

  He nodded and entered his office.

  I told Sanderson and Harris, ‘The two men in the pub were Moldovan, so update a board, and we got their phones and contact numbers.’

  ‘A good breakthrough,’ Sanderson encouraged.

  Half an hour later, and Harris had a link between our Moldovan pub wreckers and a drug dealer in Hamburg. A call to Interpol, the relevant officer found at home, and he knew the man in question, he had been trying to nail him for ten years.

  ‘He's not the top dog, his is a distributor, he has a paymaster in Prague, a Russian Jew we think.’

  I called Leon after thanking our new Interpol buddy. ‘Did I wake you?’

  ‘No, just settling down.’

  ‘Listen, Russian Jewish paymasters for big drug deals, based in Prague.’

  ‘Ah, try Kroskow for the funding. He’s an illusive man, very rich, made money from illegal arms sales, large orders to Pakistan and a few countries in Asia and Africa, countries rather than warlords. Then he went quiet, people thought him dead, but he is still there.’

  ‘Would he use Moldovan hit men?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Would he use crap amateur Moldovan hit men.’

  ‘No, definitely not, unless they were meant to be caught.’

  ‘Ah. Anything else, let me know, I'd appreciate it.’

  ‘I'll talk to Bob in the morning, make some calls.’

  ‘Thanks.’ I lifted a desk phone and called the Gate House. ‘It’s Wilco, I want everyone ready, full alert, armed police roadblocks five miles out. Trouble is coming, more trouble, so have Rocko set a rotation.’

  Next call was SIS, London. ‘It’s Wilco. I want a standing alert on all government installations around London and the UK, all soft targets, attack imminent. Got a code word for that?’

  ‘No, we just panic, but there is a police system for dealing with a general threat to London. This linked to the Moldovan men at GL4?’

  ‘They were the distraction, set-up to fail. Get everyone ready.’ I went and found Tinker. ‘Those Moldovan men, they were set-up to fail, a distraction, so warn G
CHQ that the numbers might be deliberate dead ends.’

  I discussed this turn of events with Harris and Sanderson.

  Harris began, ‘We find the Moldovans, who might have got lucky with a car bomb, and we track back to someone that’s not the paymaster here, but maybe the paymaster wants this person out the way. We do his dirty work for him.’

  ‘We're smarter than that,’ I assured them. ‘Work on the assumption that maybe Kroskow in Prague is pulling the strings, but using middle men that he wants caught.’

  Salome walked in, wrapped up warm.

  ‘What you doing here?’ I loudly asked. ‘This is British Military Intel, not a kibbutz.’

  ‘I just got back. You want me on rotation with the others?’

  ‘No, let them get their balls cold tonight. Where you can be useful is with some intel. You know a Kroskow in Prague, Russian Jew?’

  ‘I met him, he works with us.’ All eyes were now on her. ‘What?’

  ‘He may be behind attacks on us here, and our ambassador. A ship with drugs on blew up, bomb on board, but this idiot thinks our navy sank it. Go talk to your bosses, because I aim to kill him.’

  She was back ten minutes later, and handed me a slip of paper with a phone number on. ‘They say he is not involved, and not to kill him.’

  I took the number and called it on my sat phone, stepping to the corridor with Salome.

  ‘Da!’

  ‘Mister Kroskow?’

  ‘Who is this?’

  ‘Major Wilco, British SAS.’

  ‘Wilco? Why … why are you calling me?’

  ‘I have orders to find you and kill you, but Mossad says you are innocent of what we think you did. Hence this call first.’

  ‘And what do you think I did?’

  ‘You funded the drugs on the ship, Grenada Star II?’

  ‘I loan money to many people, I don’t control what they do with it. Did your Navy sink that ship?’

  ‘No, a certain Bolivian gentleman got a bomb on board to upset his friends in Nicaragua.’

  ‘Ah. You are well informed, for a Major in the Army.’

  ‘I use another name: Petrov.’

  ‘You … you are Petrov?’

  ‘One and the same person, and well informed and well connected.’

  ‘Why tell me this?’

  ‘Because I hope we can work together, not shoot at each other.’

  ‘I have heard good things about Petrov, seems they are true. What do you want ... exactly, Petrov?’