Wilco- Lone Wolf 19

by Geoff Wolak

  ‘What about Tomsk?’

  ‘The missiles were to be used to kill him, the Medellin and the Mexican Tiujana want his territory here.’

  ‘They will have a war with us if they try! We will not have those dogs in our country!’

  ‘I will go seek them out, don't worry. In the meantime, we need more supplies, food and water, and tents, and sandbags, say – a million.’

  ‘I will organise supplies, and see how many sandbags we have, maybe a few thousand.’

  ‘And a mechanical digger, or two, local ones, some builders.’

  ‘That will be easy enough, yes. I'll sort something quickly.’

  ‘You heard about the FBI agent?’

  ‘Yes, we have him here.’

  ‘Make him talk, then have a prisoner kill him, accidentally incinerate the body, and don't worry about the Americans – they want that. They don't want a public trial in America.’

  ‘I will arrange something, yes. This man knows about the cartels' plans?’

  ‘Yes, he's an important player.’

  ‘Then I have some questions for him myself,’ he threatened.

  I called GL4 after checking my watch, getting through to the Brigadier. ‘Sir, we were hit by cruise missiles, as in Yemen, so the White House has declared war on the cartels. Can you try and get me whichever regular squadron is on standby, and fast, kitted for the jungle. There will be a formal request, but that will take a day or two.’

  ‘I'll chat to the UKSF Directorate now.’

  ‘And 2 Squadron, and the regulars assigned to me, any Wolves back off holiday.’

  ‘Jesus, it is all out war then.’

  ‘I even want Sergeant Crab, that shows how serious this is. Watch CNN, sir.’

  Phone down, it trilled. ‘Major Wilco, General Boltweir. Can you talk?’

  ‘Yes, sir, maybe a few loud bangs in the background.’

  ‘President wants action, for a change, and Lobos Cartel helped to change his mind on that, so you'll get extra men and equipment, ask for what you need.’

  ‘It’s down to the intel, sir, so go rattle the NSA for me. We need phones linked and calls intercepted, and some ships on the Pacific side with electronic warfare.’

  ‘That'll be arranged very quickly, San Diego is full of ships doing squat. You know who's behind these attacks?’

  ‘Yes, sir, but maybe not keen to discuss it on the phone.’

  ‘Understood, but go find the bastards and shoot them, we could have lost a great many men today, and coming so soon after cruise missiles in Yemen. We want those missiles stopped, and we'll step up our monitoring of North Korean ships.

  ‘According to the CIA you laid blame squarely with the Tiujana Cartel...’

  ‘That is correct, sir, but the motives are not quite what they seem. We would need to chat face to face.’

  ‘I may visit, yes. But they did fund the missiles and the attack?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘And they knew our servicemen were the target?’

  ‘Yes, sir, they did.’

  ‘If a foreign power did that we'd be at war. So we're treating this like a war, short-term emergency budgets, but good budgets. Military has a very good reserve budget, and we'll use some of it.’

  Call ended, I stared at for a while, then called David. Worried.

  ‘Ah, Wilco, American news is going crazy. You had an attack there.’

  ‘Two cruise missiles.’

  ‘Bloody hell. Where did they get them, North Korea?’

  ‘I would guess so, yes, customised by Terotski. We found a transmitter in time and moved it. Listen, Americans want blood, the entire US military on standby, war declared against the cartels, but they don't know the full picture. The cartels wanted to kill Petrov, then move on Tomsk, to get his territory.’

  ‘Whatever the cartel's motives, they have very dangerous cruise missiles and a willingness to lob them at people, including American soldiers. And Terotski wants to hurt us, Britain and America. You have a concern?’

  ‘I do when the White House is sending men to prop up Tomsk. If this got out?’

  ‘Yes, a problem. But the White House did make a choice as far as Tomsk was concerned; better the devil you know.’

  ‘If someone aims at you and misses, hits an American GI behind you, do you tell his bosses that you were the target, or do you let the Americans seek revenge?’

  ‘The Americans want to manufacture threats, more the better, it’s a military industrial complex. They'll be pleased, and care little of the motives, so don't worry. You managed small wars for us, they want the same.’

  ‘You heard about Manstein?’

  ‘Yes, and clever of you to hand him to the Panama authorities, no messy trial in the US.’

  ‘American media will complain about his apparent suicide here though.’

  ‘Yes, but not very loudly I suspect. Oh, we found little more about Gay Dave, nothing that suggests he's playing us.’

  ‘You heard about the third look-a-like?’

  ‘What! There's another one?’

  ‘Yes, in Tiujana, and you need to be ready. What if they film him raping a girl and slitting her throat?’

  ‘We'd have to move fast to prove it’s a double, and that’s easy enough – one stood trial here in front of witnesses and judges.’

  ‘You can't claim he's the double of Petrov.’

  ‘Ah, well no, that would be awkward, but we'll think of something.’

  ‘I've requested regular SAS, so update the MOD for me.’

  ‘I'll chat to the Cabinet Office now.’

  ‘And make sure that the PM knows what’s really going on here.’ I put my phone away and took in the airfield.

  ‘You look worried,’ Moran noted.

  ‘It’s not the fighting here, it’s the politics behind it.’

  ‘Rather you than me,’ he noted.

  My phone trilled. ‘Wilco, sir, it’s Murphy.’

  ‘What have you found out?’

  ‘This here fella speaks some English, and he reckons there's a missile on some ship, to be used to destroy some house.’

  ‘That makes sense. Listen, are there any sat phones?’

  ‘We got two of them.’

  ‘Make a note of this number.’ He wrote it down. ‘Use the sat phones to call that number, tell them who you are and where you are, ask that they trace the phone urgently.’

  ‘Got that, Boss.’

  I stepped to the radio operator. ‘Call the ships, have them move to General Quarters, cruise missiles on a civilian ship in this area.’

  ‘Shit...’ Major Morgen let out. ‘That'll get the juices flowing.’

  I waved over Franks and Dick and led them away. ‘More cruise missiles, on a ship, targeted at Tomsk's nice villa. I've put the ships here at General Quarters.’

  ‘They're not the target,’ Franks noted.

  ‘And if one of your ships gets close by mistake..?’

  ‘Well, yeah, could see a launch.’

  ‘Send it up the line from me, urgent call to put all US Naval vessels in Central America, Pacific side and Caribbean side, at General Quarters, radar-guided missile attack imminent. That way we're covered if they do get targeted.’

  Franks blew out and lifted his phone.

  My phone trilled, Tomsk. ‘They blew up my fucking villa! A missile!’

  ‘It came from a ship. Try and get the ship's name, stick a man in a helicopter, fly out to sea. Wait. Which way did the missile come from?’

  ‘Northeast of my villa they said, ten guards killed.’

  ‘Get that ship's name, it has to be within a few miles of the coast!’

  I stepped to the radio operator, taking my map out. ‘Signal the ships, missile fired from transport ship down the coast here, close inshore. Send a fully fuelled F18 to spot it and damage it, then try and get the Navy to board it.’

  We all waited as the messages went back and forth.

  The radio operator lifted his head. ‘British des
troyer and one of ours moving south at flank speed. But there's another British ship closer by, HMS Argyle, and she has a helo to dispatch, sir.’

  I stepped away and called SIS.

  ‘Duty Officer.’

  ‘It’s Wilco. Get hold of HMS Argyle fast, get them to call me.’

  ‘On it now.’

  I called back Tomsk. ‘Listen, organise a news black-out on the attack on your villa, it never happened.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Just do it.’ I cut the call.

  ‘We got the war on?’ Slider asked me, squinting in the bright sun.

  ‘Ship with missiles on, could target a naval vessel, or a town or city, or us here.’

  ‘Radar guided?’

  I nodded.

  ‘No radar here,’ he noted. ‘Not a working one. Another transmitter?’

  ‘Maybe. But that last missile went for Tomo's transmitter, not the building. It ignored the building. Take the lads to the roof, look for trouble coming. And search it again for anything odd.’

  He led the small team back across.

  ‘You're gunna occupy the terminal again?’ Morgen queried.

  ‘And search it.’

  My phone trilled. ‘Wilco.’

  ‘Captain Thornton, HMS Argyle.’

  ‘How far are you from the Panama coast, sir?’

  ‘Sixty miles. We were on our way to join the Cardiff.’

  ‘Send your Lynx, sir, armed, to damage that ship if they find it, look for a launch ramp on deck.’

  ‘They're about ready to depart.’

  ‘Americans are steaming south to board her, but if you get close first then be damn careful, sir, I think they'd rather blow themselves up than face a jail in Panama.’

  ‘We'll be careful.’

  I could soon see my lads up on the terminal roof and searching, Nicholson aiming out and peering through his lens.

  Tomsk called ten minutes later. ‘A helicopter went out, only ship there was Santa Maria IV, and it had a ramp for like a missile. It’s sailing northeast.’

  ‘Americans will board it soon.’ I recalled the number for HMS Arglye, being put through by a rating. ‘Sir, that ship is the Santa Maria IV, steaming northeast from the coast.’

  ‘I'll update the Lynx, she's moving towards the only suitable radar target, big ship inshore at a place where there are no suitable ports. But we have American aircraft on radar, will be with us soon.’

  ‘Get the name of the ship to them, sir.’

  ‘Will do.’

  ‘Wilco out.’

  Franks stepped closer. ‘With that ship boarded, is their attempt on Tomsk over?’

  ‘I'd say yes, but … we've been caught out here before, so let’s be thorough here. We need Terotski, fingernails off, to know for sure. Oh, did I tell you, they demolished his villa.’

  Franks lifted his eyebrows. ‘He can afford another one. Was he hurt?’

  ‘No, he had already fled.’ I heavy a giant sigh and took in the line of helos. ‘If they had been a few days earlier they would have had him and me, and Panama would be looking at a civil war of drug gangs.’

  ‘You dodged the bullet so many times the bullets avoid you now. But this won't be the last time someone wants to unseat him – and move you aside.’

  I shook my head. ‘No, it won't be.’

  ‘Don't know how you sleep, even with high fences.’

  ‘It’s getting harder,’ I told him.

  ‘Moran for Wilco, no transmitters on the roof.’

  ‘Have a look inside, high up, outside walls, then the tall lights. Have Nicholson scan each tall light.’

  ‘Will do.’

  Fifteen minutes later HMS Argyle called. ‘Major Wilco, Captain Thorton.’

  ‘Go ahead, sir?’

  ‘Americans dropped bombs next to that ship after they refused to be boarded, some loud bangs, then our Lynx shot up their bridge, and put a rocket in the crew quarters. She's smoking, could be on fire, crew not heading for the life rafts though – they're all hiding.’

  ‘If you board her, sir, there's a chance she'll blow, so my advice is to stay away.’

  ‘We'll be alongside her in an hour, guns on her. If they don't leave the ship we'll give her a slow leak. That'll make their minds up for them.’

  ‘Keep me informed, please, sir, but the ship's crew are facing the electric chair in America or a firing squad in Panama, so I don't think they're keen to surrender.’

  ‘No much of an option, no. I'll update you if something happens, but they’ve turned due south for Colombia.’

  I called the Panamanian minister. ‘It’s Petrov. Tomsk's villa was destroyed by a missile.’

  ‘My god, is he alive?’

  ‘Yes, he was away from it, he evacuated. The missile was fired from a ship on the east coast, the British Navy shooting up the ship as we speak.’

  ‘Is that an end to it?’

  ‘How lucky are you feeling?’

  ‘Not very.’

  ‘My people will keep looking for missiles, and we'll hit the Tiujana Cartel.’

  ‘And Medellin?’

  ‘When the time is right. But if we destroy the Tiujana Cartel then Medellin will go quiet.’

  I stepped to Max and gave him a story to put out on Reuters, no mention of a missile being fired at Tomsk's nice villa. I sighed and lamented the loss of the villa; it was a nice villa.

  Tinker called. ‘We traced a phone number given by some hick-town American.’

  ‘That would be Wolf Murphy, my best man.’

  ‘It links to the ship we just heard about, Santa Maria, but also to a small island off Belize, a dozen houses.’

  ‘Ah, someone's retirement pad. Got the coordinates?’ He read them out. ‘Great, we'll see who's retired there.’

  I call Colonel Mathews and gave him the coordinates. ‘Need a special forces mission to secure the island and its residents, only a dozen houses there.’

  ‘There are more ships steaming towards you, some have Marines.’

  ‘If a Hawkeye can land here and take the SEALs, that would be best. There might be a road on that island to land on, have a look at the map.’

  ‘I'll get back to you.’

  I stepped to Major Morgen. ‘I think we can move people back, move the helos back but spread out, and put the medics tents south a hundred yards, sandbags around them. We have mechanical diggers coming, could through up a wall and make some ditches by dawn.’

  ‘I'll get them organised. And ask for a new fuel truck!’

  I walked back over with Franks and Dick, the fuel truck still smouldering, and they reclaimed their former home as I climbed the stairs to the roof. ‘Anything?’

  ‘Searched where we could,’ Moran told me. ‘And for a transmitter to work it needs to be exposed.’

  ‘Go tell the locals they can come back.’

  He laughed. ‘You're optimistic, aren't you?’

  ‘Tell them they'll be well paid, in dollars.’

  Laughing, he headed down with Ginger.

  My phone trilled. ‘It’s Miller, and you've been busy...’

  I stood at the wall and peered north. ‘Just another day at the office.’

  ‘The news is great, and my bosses are very happy, deliriously happy.’

  ‘Do I get a medal?’

  He laughed. ‘We can't be seen to hand it to you, we don't exist remember, but we'd like to – you have the entire US Navy on alert.’

  ‘There's a genuine need; one of your ships might a missile up its arse.’

  ‘How many more missiles are out there?’

  ‘That’s the question, and I don't know the answer.’

  ‘So what comes next?’

  ‘If the rockets fired at us here, plus the one fired at Tomsk, are all the custom rockets, then it'll go quiet for a while. And we may have a line on Terotski. If we get him we'll check his teeth.’

  ‘Where do you think he is?’

  ‘Island off Belize.’

  ‘Interesting,
I'll check the intel. But his file says he doesn't like warm climates, hence the chosen location of Toronto, which would never fit the bill of a warm climate. People lock themselves away after Christmas and don't come out till April. They're like hamsters.’

  ‘I hate the cold. I'd retire down here.’

  ‘I doubt you would walk around in swimming trunks.’

  ‘Well … no.’

  Over the next hour we got the medics tents all moved south, well away from the terminal building, and what sandbags there were we piled up and made into a wall, many breeze blocks carried out.

  HMS Argyle called. ‘They still won't abandon ship, nor respond. So we're just about to hit them forwards, time for them to get off.’

  ‘No other ships nearby?’

  ‘None. Why?’

  ‘In case you shoot and miss, sir.’

  ‘Cheeky bugger.’

  ‘And the last time you did this..?’

  ‘Well, never, so we'll try not to miss.’

  He was back on fifteen minutes later. ‘Harder that it looks, firing at a big ship. But we're moving up and down and so are they. Still, two out of five hit, holes made, they're nose down and now stood on the deck with life vests.’

  ‘The reputation of the fine British Navy is intact.’

  The airport assistant manager soon appeared with a small army of builders, trucks and slow-moving diggers being driven by sweaty men with large bulging arms. The diggers got to work, followed by men with shovels, and a three-foot high wall of dirt was thrown up around the medics’ tents, a handy ditch for them to hide in if we had incoming being a bi-product.

  When I pointed out his smouldering hangars the assistant manager just shrugged. Seemed that he was not a model employee keen to see the airport up and running anytime soon. The manager, however, was refusing to return. His elderly sisters, who ran the shop, were made of sterner stuff and did return; they could smell a profit.

  A truck turned up with sandbags, and bags that were strong enough to be sandbags, those bags soon being filled with dirt and compacted down. Still, they would do the job, and the wall around the medics tents was growing.

  Colonel Mathews called back. ‘There's no road on that island, so we'll HALO drop the SEALs in.’

  ‘That is what they're trained for, but I suggest dawn as the target time, wind checked, and helo recovery fifteen minutes out. And make sure the SEALs each have a camera.’