Wilco- Lone Wolf 19

by Geoff Wolak

‘How's it going?’

  ‘We have a command centre, abandoned old wooden church, patrols out to nearby high ground. No contact yet.’

  ‘We have more medics here, and a field cookery unit.’

  ‘Now you get one,’ he complained.

  ‘Wilco out,’ I said with a grin.

  From the rooftop I observed the filling of sandbags with sand from the construction of the new terminal, and tents being raised for the local soldiers, soon two Seahawks gliding in. Franks and Dick clambered down, but also Manstein and his gang.

  Sighing heavily, I walked down to them and met them on the apron, pointing Franks towards the booty.

  Agent Manstein closed in. ‘Petrov was in Panama City again last night. Walking around openly, flaunting his freedom here.’

  ‘Have you complained to the Panamanian Government?’ I asked with a straight face.

  ‘Several times.’

  ‘Maybe it’s not him.’

  ‘We got positive ID from a dozen people. He even signed autographs.’

  I would have to have a word with Gay Dave. ‘Did you get one?’ I teased. ‘Might be able to analyse the style or something. Does he finish the last character of his name with a confident sweeping style..?’

  He walked past me without another word, to look at the booty, as well as our rocket parts.

  Turning, Hispanic Panamanian Major Spencer was there. He whispered, ‘They have FBI written on their jackets.’

  I nodded. ‘Others are CIA.’

  ‘You walk around like they don't see you!’ he whispered.

  ‘Tomsk arranged a separate ID for me, a British Government officer. Spent a lot of money.’

  ‘My god.’

  I put a finger to my lips and he nodded, but he appeared very puzzled. And I was taking a huge risk here. Still, with Gay Dave being positively ID'd in Panama City I had Manstein off my case. For now.

  When my phone trilled it was the Deputy Chief. ‘News is coast to coast, as expected, every Republican senator with something to say. UN will meet to discuss it, but it looks like the White House will tighten sanctions against North Korea and make some threats. President is confident these days.

  ‘And they had film from the ships, and from last night, F18s dropping bombs, and somehow they had film of that airfield you're at, hours of it.’

  ‘Press officers here used the local land line to send images back, like a fax - only some clever computer thing.’

  ‘That would explain it. News makes it look like we have an entire division of men there and a hundred helos.’

  ‘And the Pentagon hawks..?’

  ‘Are secretly delighted, you earned a beer there. We look good from this as well.’

  Back up on the roof I could see that Rizzo was now awake, and chatting to young Marines. My phone trilled. ‘Wilco.’

  ‘It’s David, and I have an odd snippet for you, might be related. You have a love hate relationship with a certain FBI Agent, Manstein...’

  ‘Yes, has he complained about me?’

  ‘Not that I know of, I mean, not since the last ten complaints in West Africa, but I noticed in the file that he interviewed Terotski, here in London in 1990.’

  I froze. ‘Manstein … interviewed Terotski?’

  ‘Yes, a four hour session.’

  ‘Manstein would have access to the latest intel, he would see the name Terotski.’

  ‘Have you met him recently?’

  ‘He's with me now. And he never said anything.’

  ‘He might not have seen the name in the reports.’

  ‘I gotta go.’ I called Langley.

  ‘Duty Officer.’

  ‘It’s Wilco down in sunny Panama. Tell me, would the FBI be appraised of the Terotski investigation?’

  ‘They're working on it.’

  ‘They'd have all the intel?’

  ‘Senior staff would, plus those working on it.’

  ‘Do something for me, urgently and quietly. Find out if FBI Agent Manstein is up to speed -'

  ‘He is, he's on the recipient list. Is there a problem?’

  ‘Work on the assumption that he's passing everything he knows over to Terotski.’

  ‘What!’ came a shout.

  ‘Go inform the Deputy Chief, right now, and start digging.’ I waved at Franks and Dick and they came up. I led them to a quiet spot.

  ‘Problem?’ Franks asked.

  ‘Below us … is FBI Agent Manstein.’

  ‘Your favourite FBI Agent,’ Dick noted.

  ‘Manstein … is on the recipient list for all intel regarding Terotski.’

  ‘It’s his area,’ Franks noted. ‘So what?’

  ‘Manstein interviewed Terotski, in London, 1990 when he defected.’

  ‘He … never mentioned that,’ Franks puzzled.

  ‘Manstein has a particular interest in Tomsk, and Petrov, and we suspect that someone is trying to kill Tomsk and take over the drugs trade here. The Canadians were supplied with intel about Tomsk, technical diagrams of his villa.’

  ‘Shit...’ They exchanged looks.

  ‘Tell me. If I had not been involved, if the rockets had not be found, if the drugs had not been stopped, what could the Canadians and this drug gang do against Tomsk with rockets and some cash?’

  Franks began, ‘To hit Tomsk and his businesses the rockets would need to be accurate. Does Tomsk have a radar on his fucking roof?’

  ‘No,’ I replied, shooting him a look.

  Dick put in, ‘There may be a way. Mobile emitter, size of a sat phone. Leave in a sensitive spot, rocket homes in.’

  ‘To do that you'd need someone on the inside,’ I noted. ‘And Tomsk is careful, his staff with him for years.’

  Dick suggested, ‘They could fire a rocket at someone, and blame Tomsk.’

  ‘That would be a worry, yes,’ I agreed. ‘But no one in the Panama Government would believe it. And you'd call me and I'd call him, so you wouldn't believe it either.’

  ‘How about … they hit American airports,’ Franks began. ‘Evidence trail to Tomsk. White House would have no choice but to act.’

  ‘And Tomsk would run off and hide,’ I noted with a sigh. ‘Still not sure that’s it.’

  ‘You think Manstein is dirty?’ Franks asked.

  ‘Would his interview of Terotski be on file?’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘So he couldn't hide it, just odd that he hasn't mentioned it up the line. And here he is … investigating Terotski's pet rockets. You spoke to him on ship?’

  ‘We sat down for hours, going over the intel and the rockets and the players,’ Franks told me. ‘No mention of his interview with Terotski. And now it is sounding more and more unusual.’

  ‘Get your people looking at Manstein, and the NSA, all phone calls. Fast.’

  They walked off raising sat phones. And from the edge of the roof I could see Manstein below. I called Tinker. ‘Listen, FBI Agent Manstein is now in the frame, connection to Terotski. Ask GCHQ what rules they can bend, and have a good look at Manstein.’

  ‘I'll call now, but if he finds out..?’

  ‘Don't worry, he already has some awkward questions to answer. Work fast.’

  Ten minutes later Franks told me, ‘I have a contact in the FBI, he's getting Manstein's cost claims.’

  ‘Why?’ I puzzled. ‘You think he claimed too much for lunch?’

  ‘Shows his movements day to day, locations, hotels, gas stations.’

  I nodded. ‘Good. Send a copy to GCHQ as soon as you have it.’

  ‘Be an electronic copy, so I can send it on to your guy Tinker.’

  I called David. ‘We have a problem, with Manstein.’

  ‘You think he's dirty?’

  ‘I know it. He sat through a meeting with the CIA, a meeting about Terotski and his rockets, and never once mentioned meeting Terotski.’

  ‘Bloody hell. He would have been boasting about how well he knew Terotski, at least he should have been. I'll get a team on him quickly, he wor
ked in London on and off for years, and the Hague war crimes unit.’

  ‘Start to map his phone usage.’

  ‘When the news hits...’

  ‘Yes, a problem for the Americans.’

  A shout, and a Cessna was on approach.

  I stood at the west wall and shouted down and Marines and Seahawk crews below, ‘It’s OK, it was expected! They're bringing Red Cross parcels.’

  ‘Red Cross, sir?’ the Marines corporal queried.

  I sighed at him. ‘In the Second World War, British and American prisoners in Germany got Red Cross parcels, food and chocolate and sewing kits...’

  ‘Ah, right, sir,’ he said with a deep frown.

  ‘It’s a joke, dumbass.’

  The Cessna landed, taxied around, and Max stepped down with a suitcase and a shoulder bag. He looked like a lost tourist and it made me smile as he lugged his heavy case over.

  I met him down in the terminal, most everyone recognising him. ‘Oh my god, it’s Max from Camel Toe Base,’ I shouted. He shot me a look. ‘You on holiday, or here to do some work?’

  ‘I don't have my full kit, just cameras.’

  ‘Find a place to call home in here and … make do. There are no beds, but we have a few old mattresses.’

  ‘I figured.’

  I introduced him to Major Morgen, Max soon asking questions, notepad out, camera around his neck. I left him to it.

  ‘That Max?’ Moran asked from outside, near the steps.

  ‘With his suitcase and his Hawaiian shirt, fresh from his five star hotel in Barbados. Nice tan.’

  ‘I'll go take the piss then.’

  Half an hour later my phone trilled. I was still on the roof, pacing up and down and thinking. ‘Wilco.’

  ‘Deputy Chief, and I'm worried, very damn worried – and yes I would like to shoot the messenger. If this gets out...’

  ‘At the moment we have a puzzle, not a conviction.’

  ‘He should have declared his knowledge of Terotski. He should have been claiming that he was the go-to guy on the topic, yet he stayed quiet. No notes from him to us on that topic. And I called the head of his department, and that guy is worried a hell of a lot more than we are. Manstein didn't even tell his own boss.’

  ‘We need solid evidence before I shoot him.’

  ‘Don't shoot him, we need answers from him. And not even you would get away with shooting an FBI agent.’

  When Moran came back up I led him to a quiet spot. ‘Some bad news.’

  ‘What?’ Moran puzzled.

  ‘FBI Agent Manstein, he's working for the other side.’

  He pointed down. ‘Him? Mister do-it-by-the-book arsehole?’

  I nodded. ‘He interviewed Terotski at length in London, 1990, after Terotski defected. Yet when he meets with the CIA on ship to discuss the rockets and Terotski ... no mention.’

  ‘How could he not mention that he knows Terotski? That would be a crime, wouldn't it? Withholding information.’

  ‘Enough for him to be suspended. But I don't think Manstein is stupid, I think he's a schemer, and if he's involved then it could be about getting rid of Tomsk, and replacing him with someone more willing to hand out the cash to retired FBI agents.

  ‘But to move on Tomsk he would need an angle, and I can't figure it. Terotski had the rockets, maybe to fire at civilian airports and blame Tomsk, we don't know. Those rockets would have been little use in trying to kill Tomsk.’

  ‘That Tomsk dude has his fingers in every pie around here, so who'd be dumb enough to move against him? And he has you to protect him, and they all fear you – I heard the chit chat at the villa. First thing they'd need to do is kill you – or discredit you.’

  ‘Captain, you're a genius.’

  ‘I am?’ he puzzled.

  ‘Yes. So, how do you discredit someone?’ I posed and waited.

  ‘Film them doing something very naughty.’

  ‘Or film his double doing something very naughty...’

  ‘Gay Dave?’ Moran puzzled.

  ‘What if Gay Dave is not as stupid as he appears?’

  Moran considered that. ‘They pay him to rape a girl, slit her throat, all caught on hidden camera. You get the blame.’

  I nodded. ‘This is about me as much as it is about Tomsk, but we got their drugs and rockets, and fucked all their players. Just a few left -'

  ‘Unless we're missing something.’

  ‘And it’s the thing you're missing that kills you.’ I called David. ‘Listen, send people around to where Gay Dave lived and worked, find out all you can about him, the real him. Open a deep level investigation into him, and fast please.’

  ‘What have you found out?’

  ‘Nothing solid, but my gut tells me this is about removing Tomsk, and to do that they need to remove Petrov first – who's seen as stronger than Tomsk and the real power. To discredit me they need only film Gay Dave doing something naughty. If that film makes it to the UK, then the real me is screwed as well.’

  ‘Bloody hell. I'll get a team on it, we know the shop he used to work at and where he lived.’

  ‘School friends as well, see if he's a killer in the making. What’s obvious here is that if Manstein is linked in, then Hollister gave me up, as well as my double. Manstein knows that the alleged Petrov is in Panama City and that I'm here.’

  ‘Can you isolate Gay Dave?’

  ‘I will do, yes. Go investigate please.’ I called Tomsk. ‘It’s me. Listen, I have a suspicion about my body double. Make sure that he is watched at all times, never left alone, not in a room alone with someone.’

  ‘What’s he done?’

  ‘I just found out that an FBI agent is involved with Terotski.’

  ‘They try to get rid of me?’

  ‘Yes, but first they need rid of Petrov. No one will move on you if I'm around.’

  ‘Well, yes, true. You scare people.’

  I called Tiny.

  ‘Hey, Boss.’

  ‘Listen, are you alone?’

  ‘Far enough away.’

  ‘Don't trust Gay Dave. It may be nothing, or he's a world class actor and hired killer.’

  ‘I could test him.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘I can have gay lad pick a fight. Either Dave screams like a girl and runs, or he fights back like a pro.’

  ‘Tiny, you just earned yourself a good shag.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Maybe. See if you're right.’

  ‘I'll be all over this with a purpose, a shagging purpose.’

  ‘Oh, the man you tortured, he had a diagram of Tomsk's villa?’

  ‘Yes, and a map of the grounds, all very accurate, like a satellite photo.’

  ‘Interesting. Where'd he get it?’

  ‘It was handed to him here in Panama City, a courier. He passed out a lot after that though.’

  ‘Do you know when it was passed to him?’

  ‘That would be … a week ago. But it was not sent from outside the country, it was local.’

  ‘Thanks, go to work.’ I went and found Franks. ‘See if Manstein was here in Panama a week ago.’

  ‘He was, top level talks about our new extradition treaty.’

  ‘A week ago a local courier handed a Canadian player some satellite photo details of Tomsk's villa.’

  ‘Manstein would have access,’ Franks agreed. He blew out. ‘Shit.’

  Swifty called, a juicy target spotted, a large drugs lab, part of it underground. I rallied Rizzo and his team, and dispatched them in a Huey that was sat there waiting something to do. Before he left, I mentioned to him that if he borrowed a few tonnes of drugs and hid them someplace – he'd get a bonus. He was a motivated NCO as he strode purposefully to the Huey with Dicky, Mouri and Swan.

  Running Bear returned from a Huey flight, having shot up a drugs lab and some trucks. He had not landed but would take a team back, eight men. I had five SEALs tag along, to keep his Spanish speakers on the Seahawks.

  I glimpsed Mans
tein several times during the day, very tempted to shoot him.

  David called at 5pm, and so far it had been a quiet day around the airfield, men catching up on some sleep in the midday heat. ‘We spoke to someone who worked with David, or Gay Dave as such, and he reported Dave as aggressive to the point of being unstable and manic. A history of fighting, including martial arts.’

  ‘Something he never mentioned at the base with me. Still, Tiny will test him as well.’

  ‘She will?’

  ‘Wait and see what she comes up with.’

  Ten minutes later and gunfire registered, reports coming in of wounded Marines in the treeline north; they had engaged ten armed men. Two Seahawks with medics made the short distance, short in a helicopter that was, long to be carrying wounded men, the Marines soon back with us, and two were critical and rushed inside as the support teams and aircrew looked on.

  The critical men had good help from the colonel and his team, but one died on the operating table. The other was stable, and moved by Seahawk to Panama City with a body in a bag, the embassy to handle things.

  Bodies and weapons were brought down in a truck, soon laid out, weapons glanced at by Manstein and his FBI buddies, as well as Franks. I was staying well away for now.

  I called the ship's Captain.

  ‘We have wounded Marines,’ he noted.

  ‘Yes, sir, eight wounded, one critical, one died.’

  ‘Damn. And the men shooting them?’

  ‘Trying to identify them now, sir.’

  ‘How's the operation going otherwise?’

  ‘We're hitting drug labs and trucks, yet to find more rockets, if there are any more – but we have to look.’

  ‘Yes, of course.’

  ‘We're covering a good area, they won't fire any further rockets at us, or mortars.’

  ‘Hence the sneak attack. Keep me informed please.’

  Franks came and found me on the roof, the air still and hot – yet loud with the helos coming and going. ‘The shooters have prison tattoos and some gang tattoos, but the kit is second rate. This lot were lied to about who's here and then paid well, they had about ten grand on them – between them.’

  ‘Phones?’

  ‘Being traced now.’

  ‘I know the Marines are supposed to be able to do the job, but still - I'd like my men out there.’

  ‘You can't do everything. And the Marines won the engagement.’