Wilco- Lone Wolf 19

by Geoff Wolak

  ‘Are we winning?’ he asked, a glance at the Colonel.

  The Colonel answered, ‘Only place to win a war is in the media.’ I smiled widely. ‘What do you say, Major?’

  ‘Oh, I agree with you, sir.’ I nodded affirmatively.

  The Captain commented to Colonel DeHavilland, ‘I was told to support his operations, not join Apocalypse Now.’

  ‘Major Wilco doesn't do things in half measures.’

  ‘Don't blame the messenger, sir, I just follow orders. Trouble comes and finds me.’ My phone trilled. ‘Excuse me.’ I stepped away. ‘Wilco.’

  ‘It’s David, and the Costa Rican news is running the story of the massacre as having been organised by the Interior Minister – and others – who took cartel money. Two junior ministers and a police chief have been arrested. It’s not looking pretty for them.’

  ‘David, it’s Nicaragua, this shit happens every week. By tomorrow they would have forgotten - and be watching the football.’

  ‘The new government in Nicaragua might argue with you there, they're taking great strides forwards, crime down, many reforms of the penal system – and now a will to actually enforce it. Our police are training their police.’

  Back with the group I began, ‘The Nicaraguan Government is cleaning house, and not liking what they're finding under the sofa; ministers arrested, police chiefs, all taking cartel money.’

  ‘Money is king down here,’ the Colonel noted. ‘Especially when you don't have any.’

  Helos landed, the SEALs back with us. Katowski led his team in, and I waved him over. He saluted the captain.

  ‘No injuries in Belize?’ I asked.

  ‘One twisted ankle, sir. Guy joked he might land on a turtle and break a leg, but he landed on a pink pushbike.’

  We smiled.

  Katowski continued, ‘Good job there were no cameras on the ground, sir. Half of us landed in the sea.’

  ‘How wide was the island?’ I puzzled.

  ‘Half a mile wide, three miles long, sir.’

  ‘And you missed, Sergeant?’ the Colonel teased.

  ‘Dropped from 14,000ft with a three mile an hour cross wind, so I think we did OK, sir. Water was shallow and we got to the beach in good order. All the houses were in one small row, so we woke them up one at a time. Third house had the man we wanted, maps of this airfield on his dining room table.’

  I smiled widely. ‘A top flight spy.’ I faced the Colonel as Katowski saluted and headed off. ‘Man was ex-British Intelligence, sir, the old Cold War Russian team, so he knew Terotski. We're trying to find out now if it was money, ideology - or just that he got passed over for promotion. Usually it’s the latter of the three.’

  ‘No clues as to where Terotski is?’ the Colonel nudged.

  ‘He's faked his death twice, and he faked his own plastic surgery – sent a man to pretend to be him being altered.’

  ‘God damn,’ the Colonel let out. ‘This guy is a real spy, old style, James Bond and the Cold War.’

  ‘A worthy adversary,’ I agreed.

  Franks approached. ‘Some news. The co-pilot of that crashed transport plane with the rockets, he didn't take his own life or kill the pilot. Forensics showed his neck was partly broken, grabbed from behind, definitely a twist, windpipe damaged and not from the cash – which was low impact.

  ‘They had a look at the food on board, and found three sets of prints, and the cargo handlers saw it take-off with a loadmaster.’

  ‘We found no tracks around the aircraft, no open doors,’ I told him.

  ‘He got out somehow. And they reckon he forced the plane to crash land, shot the pilots and then walked away.’

  ‘The co-pilot was Mossad,’ I noted.

  ‘They're admitting that now, and keen to find the loadmaster.’

  I began, ‘Given what you say the loadmaster did … I would have pegged him as being one of yours.’

  ‘We never knew about the rockets. Maybe a rival cartel.’ He walked off.

  The Captain asked me, ‘Is it like this all the time, your work?’

  ‘Yes, sir, more about the intel than the shooting.’

  ‘Got enough material for an airport novel,’ the Colonel noted.

  Salome walked past, green t-shit with no bra.

  ‘Who's that?’ the Captain asked, and not with his happy face on.

  ‘She's a major in the Israel army, sir,’ I told him. ‘And no, it’s no good telling her off.’

  ‘Who does she answer to?’

  ‘I'd like to say me, she's in my team, but I generally disown her.’

  ‘He did,’ the Colonel put in.

  The Captain shook his head. ‘What’s the plan here, Major?’

  ‘We have most of the teams back, or returning, sir, so then we'll sit down and look at the map. If the Colonel here controls the wire, and Charlie on the wire, we'll continue searching for cartel members and mercenaries, but I doubt there are many more within thirty miles.

  ‘But, if we sit here, they will send men now and then, and we absorb the attacks and mop up.’

  ‘We just sit and take it?’ the Captain asked.

  ‘There is a value to it, sir, fewer gunmen roaming around these parts as we wait some intel. We're yet to get a solid lead on where I can find the Tiujana Cartel meeting around a table.’

  The Colonel put in, ‘What about that camp in Nicaragua you hit?’

  ‘It has a mine field around it, sir. There might be some useful intel to be gained, but we'd lose a few men.’

  ‘We have mine clearance experts...’

  ‘Would take them a month, and by then we'll have wrapped this up, sir.’

  My phone trilled so I stepped away.

  ‘It’s me,’ came Tiny's voice. ‘Got a tinsy winsy problem.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Gay Dave, he found a bomb in his room.’

  ‘He's dead?’

  ‘No, no, he's fine, but when he found it he threw it out the window.’

  ‘The window! Were civilians killed?’

  People were looking my way.

  ‘No, no, not killed, just … not that happy with us, the bomb landed in the pool, people in it at the time, people around the pool, windows blown out, bit of a mess.’

  ‘Shit … get Tomsk to compensate people.’

  ‘I know the manager here, and Tomsk owns this hotel, so we'll sort it … eventually … when people calm down and stop complaining. You'd never think they'd been blown up before.’

  ‘Listen, girl, get up of your lazy backside and find the man who put the bomb in his room, it has to be an inside job. Stop enjoying yourself and earn your damn keep, eh.’

  ‘OK, grumpy, I'll go earn my keep.’

  ‘And send Gay Dave to La Palma, out the way.’

  ‘When I see you I'm going to pin you down and put my finger up your arse.’

  ‘Get to work!’ I cut the call. Turning, they were waiting. I sighed. ‘My body double, he … found a bomb in his hotel room in Panama City.’

  ‘He dead?’ the Colonel asked.

  ‘No, he … dropped it out the fucking window into the hotel pool, a hundred people sat around it at the time. I hear that the guests are not happy.’

  The Colonel noted with a smile, ‘Thing to do is to move that box at the front desk with ‘suggestions' on it.’

  I shook my head. ‘This'll be all over the news, and I get the blame.’

  ‘He is your body double,’ the Captain noted.

  I called David Finch. ‘Listen, small problem with Gay Dave. Who, technically, does he work for?’

  ‘For us, on assignment to you. Why, what has he done?’

  ‘He … found a bomb in his hotel room in Panama City so dropped it out the window -'

  ‘So would I!’

  ‘And into the hotel pool.’

  ‘Oh gawd. How many people hurt?’

  ‘A lot, no fatalities reported so far.’

  ‘I just remembered, he works for No.1 Field Recon, assign
ed to you. We disown him.’

  ‘It shows that the cartel are stepping up their game. They're not waiting for me to die of old age.’

  ‘No, so be careful. And have Gay Dave sent to some remote jungle hideout, alone.’

  ‘Regular SAS on the way?’

  ‘Landed in Belize today, so with you soon by an RAF Hercules that was there for exercises. Two Tristars flew, your people spread across them.’

  I stepped to the Colonel. ‘We'll need more tents, sir, if there are some stored in the bases around the Canal Zone.’

  ‘I'll make a call now.’

  I went and found the assistant manager, who was now the de-facto manager, albeit bribed with hard cash. He would get some large tents – he knew of some, and more camp beds. Plus tinned food, lots of tinned food.

  After dark the RAF Hercules set down, Regular SAS offloaded, a mix of G Squadron and D Squadron, weapons at the ready – all M16, Major Taggard smiling when he saw me. I nodded towards the Colonel, and Taggard saluted.

  ‘Major Taggard, G Squadron SAS, sir.’

  They shook.

  ‘Colonel DeHavilland, like the plane maker.’

  ‘My grandfather flew one in the war.’ The teams assembled behind him.

  ‘They ready for a leg stretch?’ I asked.

  ‘Fuck, aye, been on two bastard planes. Can't feel my arse.’ I led him inside and to the map. ‘You walk north to the treeline, Marines there, go on five miles to … here, they say it’s a good clearing with streams. You make camp, set stag, then patrol out.

  ‘North is a road, you don't go over it, but you observe it for trucks with missiles, drug dealers. Any armed men, shoot, but don't shoot local police and soldiers. But don't trust them either.

  ‘You go east to this road but not over it, west ten miles at most, I'd say five or six. You can expect paid local idiots with guns moving in to take pot shots at us, plus we found one gang of thirty Russian mercenaries, so it could get lively. Re-supply and casevac by helo from here. Simple.’

  ‘Any of your boys in the area?’

  ‘Most back here from that area, and you will find tracks, a few bodies, some weapons left behind. It’s not tight jungle and there are plenty of tracks. Got my sat phone number?’

  ‘Aye.’

  ‘Major Morgen is your contact. Get his number.’

  Morgen handed his number to Taggard.

  I told Taggard, ‘Once you're there, don't walk back into the line of Marines at the treeline here, they might shoot you by mistake. Helo back, or walk east to the road. We'll drop fresh supplies in the morning.

  ‘Once you're in the trees, any movement and you assume it’s hostile – shout a warning in English after you get down. In fact, no, wait.’ I transmitted, ‘Captain Moran and Ginger, come down fully kitted to move off please.’

  They arrived a few minutes later, Moran re-acquainting himself with Taggard.

  I told Moran, ‘Lead them north five miles, clearing that the Wolves reported, stay the night, back by helo. Be careful beyond the treeline, twenty yards ahead.’

  ‘All sorted then, we have a guide,’ Taggard noted, soon leading his large team off north and chatting to Moran.

  At midnight my gang of leftover men arrived, all kitted for war, 2 Squadron seen forming up. Crab and Duffy walked up, Monster and Parker behind them.

  ‘Parker, you healed?’

  ‘More or less, Boss.’

  ‘Ready to do something brave and stupid?’

  ‘I've learnt my lesson, as far as RPGs go at least.’

  British Wolves appeared, as well as Doc Willy.

  ‘Doc, you looking for some action?’

  ‘They said I should come, for the experience, the experience of really fucking uncomfortable aircraft.’

  ‘Tomorrow I'll insert you with the Regular SAS, you'll be their medic. Five miles north, you won't get killed.’

  ‘Right oh.’

  ‘You lot, find a place inside the damaged building next door, or the roof for now.’

  They trailed past.

  Haines led his team in, all looking like my men, except that several had large backpacks, Colonel Dehavilland and Major Morgen stood waiting.

  I nodded Haines to the Colonel.

  He saluted. ‘Flight Lieutenant Haines, 2 Squadron RAF Regiment.’

  I told the Colonel, ‘They were with us at Camel Toe, been on most jobs with me, sir.’

  ‘How was Camel Toe Base?’ the Colonel asked Haines.

  ‘Hot, sir, dusty, and full of loud bangs. Lost two good men wounded, amputees now.’

  I told Haines, ‘Find a bit of floor in here, we'll think about where to deploy you tomorrow. There are showers and toilets, a mess tent, and a handy shop.’

  ‘I have dollars.’

  His men trailed in, most greeted, smiles offered to me. When they were in I realised that we had too many warm bodies in here. Morgen and the Colonel could see it as well.

  I said to Morgen, ‘How about you give up the treeline north tomorrow, and spread the Marines there west, and cover the other areas.’

  ‘We are spread thin,’ he noted. ‘So we could bolster the other areas. It’s a long perimeter.’

  I turned to the Colonel. ‘Sir?’

  ‘Seems OK, but … you expect more attacks here?’

  ‘I'm here, sir, seen on the news and … they want me dead.’

  ‘They'd need an infantry division to get to you, so how?’

  ‘They have money, sir, they'll find a way.’

  He pulled a face. ‘OK, we set a trap. Tomorrow we'll give up the treeline, but that’s where the action will probably be.’

  ‘No, sir, they know that men on foot won't kill me. More likely someone coming through the gate with a cheerful smile, or rockets.’

  He faced Morgen, ‘So come dawn we address both, spies and rockets.’

  The final group to settle were my new assigned regulars, all lined up outside, a new troop sergeant, but one I recognised from a few jobs. There were eight of them, and they all looked fit and ready, all kitted like Echo. I recognised many of them.

  The troop sergeant saluted. ‘Major. I'm Stiffy.’

  ‘I won't ask about the name.’

  ‘Got a morning erection in the Paras one time. It stuck, the name not the erection.’

  I smiled. ‘In at the deep end, eh.’

  ‘We've all done jobs with you, some were at Camel Toe, some in Liberia, and we've all done a shit load of tours of Sierra Leone – still got the mud on our boots.’

  ‘Did any move their families?’

  ‘Three of the lads moved families, two to houses left from the last bunch. Rest are on base.’

  ‘Pub open yet?’

  ‘No, you wrecked it,’ he complained.

  ‘Blame Tomo, he threw the grenade. But he's done well here, he shot-up most of the intruders, found a transmitter on the roof.’

  ‘We all know his tall tales.’

  ‘One that’s true is that he did nail three hookers at the same time here in Panama.’

  ‘Any around?’

  ‘No, you have to make do with staring at the Israeli major.’

  ‘We heard about her, saw her in Liberia.’

  I stepped closer to the line of men. ‘Welcome to the quiet backwater.’

  ‘Bollocks,’ they let out, smiling.

  ‘Been all over the news,’ a man told me.

  ‘Well I won't keep you, you had a hell of a ride to get here, so get inside, find a spot of floor and make do. There's a shop, toilets and showers, so rest till you're fit enough to go kill some people.’

  Stiffy led them inside. We had camp beds, and a spare mattress, and they grabbed a corner next to 2 Squadron.

  ‘Who are they?’ Morgen asked.

  ‘They're regular SAS, but now assigned to my team, Echo, all volunteers. They go back to the regular regiment with experience, in a year, if they live.’

  Just before the dawn put in an appearance I was up on the roof, many Echo lads
asleep around the walls, green mats down, kit used as pillows, facemasks on. If it rained they would have to move, but it was warm and dry.

  Monster handed me a brew. ‘All over the fucking news, this. When I saw the news about your shootout in London I called in, but there was nothing anyone could do. And after you left I called in and they said it was no urgency that I get back.’

  ‘Boys haven't done much so far, simple walk in the bush in Nicaragua, then sitting here getting bombed. Wolves have been doing the job for us.’

  ‘Rizzo said he raided some drug lab...’

  ‘Yeah, simple operation, and he hid the drugs, so my friends here will grab the drugs and we'll get a bonus.’

  ‘Pity about the pub.’

  ‘Won't take long to re-decorate, replace the glass.’

  ‘That barmaid quit.’

  ‘Bugger. We'll have to offer danger money. Did you take a holiday?’

  ‘I got a kid I fathered, I see them now and then, couple times a year when the mother ain't so pissy. I still pay, but I don't have to - she re-married, but he got banged up.’

  ‘This woman likes to pick the bad boys, eh.’

  ‘Who … me?’ he teased. He pointed. ‘Is that a laser?’

  ‘Get down!’ I shouted. ‘Everyone down!’

  The crack sounded out just as a sandbag next to the fifty cal burst.

  I faced Monster as I knelt. ‘You remember where you saw it?’

  ‘Yes.’

  I led him to the fifty cal bent double. He adjusted the aim of the Marine on duty, and that Marine loudly hammered out twenty rounds quickly, the tracer rounds seen cutting through the dark sky.

  ‘We brought some of those new night sights,’ Monster told me, and fetched one from his bag, soon fitting it to his Valmet as men peered out, even Rizzo awake with all the noise. He knelt and aimed, soon firing, several pairs of shots. ‘Got him! He turned to run.’

  I stood. ‘Marines, go get the body, use flares. And be careful!’

  They ran to the steps and down as Nicholson got ready, shaking his head awake.

  ‘Nicholson, go back to sleep.’

  ‘Right, Boss. Keep the sound down, eh.’

  ‘Will do,’ I offered him.

  As the dawn light illuminated the airfield men peered out for trouble, Nicholson and Tomo now sat with a brew, the Marines nervous and ready, the intruder's body with the medics and bagged up.