Wilco- Lone Wolf 19

by Geoff Wolak

‘Why the hell not. I need one.’

  I led him inside and up to my room – many men stood stiffly, nodding and saying ‘sir', Harris getting keys for a room with Moran. On the balcony we sat, and I had white wine being chilled in a bucket.

  ‘Very nice,’ the Captain noted, his hat off as he reclined.

  I handed him a wine. ‘Men needed some down time, sir.’

  ‘My boys especially. After the near-death experience we now have the inquest and the blame game. What you said to media was accurate, but it caused a heated debate.’

  ‘Might do some good, sir.’

  He nodded and sipped his wine. ‘F18s should target missiles beyond twenty miles, yes, then get the hell out the way. Next week the enquiry team arrives, statements to be taken, formal enquiry when we hit port. Only need to lose a round of ammo and there's an enquiry, so for what happened here it'll be a bitch.’

  ‘Start making notes, and a timeline, sir.’

  ‘I have a captain's diary, very detailed.’

  ‘Bet your admiral is kicking himself now.’

  ‘He was off with a simple hernia, yes, and all hell breaks loose. He's been on the phone twice.’

  ‘What next for your group, sir?’

  ‘We're overdue in port, air wing to be taken off, so we'll leave in a few days and steam east, another group arriving on station here as we leave.’ He faced me. ‘Are you all done here?’

  ‘That’s a hard one, sir. There are still people out there, unanswered questions, and I think I want some answers from men I'll keenly torture and kill.’

  ‘FARC?’

  ‘They're just the hired help, sir. There are … others out there.’

  ‘You have a very odd lifestyle … for a major.’

  ‘That I do, sir.’

  Salome appeared naked on her balcony, waved and sat. The Captain turned his head to me.

  ‘Israeli intel major, sir. Don't ask, just … enjoy the view.’

  He cocked an eyebrow at me. ‘Like I said, a strange lifestyle.’ He sipped his wine. ‘A commander took your call that morning, and he's made a statement of what you said, and it makes us look bad. You gave a specific warning.’

  ‘I had a hunch, sir, no hard facts.’

  ‘We were slow to intercept the Elisa. From your Major Harris getting the detail, to intercept, was an hour.’

  ‘It was an intel link, not sight of missiles, sir. I could have been wrong. And I'll back you in writing with that; we had no hard intel.’

  ‘Might help some, yes.’

  ‘When the enquiry comes around, call me, I'll turn up.’

  ‘You would?’

  ‘Yes, sir. They can't call me, but I can volunteer. Some lunch?’

  ‘Hell yes.’

  ‘Steak?’

  ‘I'd kill for a good steak.’

  After his steak and wine, his ride returned and I waved him off from the poolside, soon sat sunbathing, but I kept my t-shirt on. Running Bear sat with me for a while.

  ‘Those drugs?’ he nudged.

  ‘British Intel got four million dollars.’

  ‘Nice haul.’

  ‘You want some?’

  ‘We have a slush fund. I can't touch it, but my CO could accept some cash.’

  ‘I'll organise something for your team.’

  ‘I get the feeling we'll be busy, us spics, now that war with the cartels is here.’

  ‘I would think so, yes. Question is, do we knock back the cartels only to see small groups take over?’

  ‘There'll always be a drugs trade.’

  I spoke to Katowski and his team, odd to see them out of uniform, then found my SAS regulars sat together.

  ‘This is all a bit odd, Boss,’ Stiffy noted.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Why? The fucking Regiment never gave us a holiday.’

  ‘I'm not Regiment, and I look after my lads. You lot were in a moderately warm climate for a few days, not shot at, so you need a break.’

  They exchanged looks and laughed.

  Doc Willy game out the pool and dried off. He looked fit and toned, but very white. ‘This is all a bit odd.’

  ‘People keep saying that, but my lads are used to it. It’s not the first time I've organised some down time. Anyhow, how was your first two weeks with us?’

  ‘Odd. I did a little medicine, then they taught me about tracks, trip wires, and I handled a few stag rotations, even a small patrol.’

  ‘So you learnt something, good.’

  ‘Learnt all about your jobs from them, the men that were in on them. Sierra Leone and Liberia, Camel Toe Base, so I'm up to speed on much of what you do.’

  ‘Good. But kick back and relax for a few days, be plenty of opportunities to get yourself killed next month.’

  I spoke to Haines and many of the 2 Squadron lads, less moaning now about the friendly fire incident, then enjoyed a massage without the happy ending.

  But my mind was elsewhere, so I called Tomsk and booked a helo. Moran was left in charge of the Brits, the Colonel in overall charge, and I put my uniform back on.

  I strode out to the pool kitted out, people asking questions as to where I was off, but they got no replies. The Huey loudly set down, a familiar pilot smiling, and I sat in the rear. Thinking.

  At Tomsk's new villa, his old original villa, I stepped down and ran, soon straightening. He met me on the steps.

  ‘This looks familiar,’ I quipped.

  ‘Just temporary. I have them rebuilding my villa quickly, round the clock work, three shifts. Only one side was damaged so it won't take so long.’

  Inside I greeted Big Sasha, Tiny running and jumping at me after I had dumped my kit, a big hug given. ‘Where's Gay Dave?’

  ‘Up in the base, training like a soldier,’ Tomsk told me. ‘He likes it, they say.’

  I faced Tiny. ‘Suzy?’

  ‘In the hotel, watching pickpockets,’ she told me.

  I accept a cold beer from Big Sasha. ‘You got my old spare clothes here?’

  ‘There are some, yes, I check. Your shirt stinks.’

  ‘How is that hotel?’ Tomsk asked.

  ‘Full of soldiers and sailors.’

  ‘I hope they don't wreck it!’

  ‘Those men spent two weeks saving your life, risking their own!’

  ‘Well … maybe.’

  ‘We need to talk.’ I led him to the patio and we sat. ‘I think the Americans want to take over here.’

  ‘Panama?’

  ‘Your drugs trade, and … everyone else’s, do it for themselves, make a lot of money.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Deep State. A branch of it. I have a lead as to who.’

  ‘You kill him?’

  ‘I will, but it has to be done with no evidence. You sent me more money?’

  ‘Yes, for the drugs. Use it to find these people.’

  ‘That’s my next task.’

  ‘What is it they want?’

  ‘They want to destroy all the cartels, from here to Mexico, bring peace, then collect the drugs from the growers in Colombia and fly it direct to America.’

  ‘Ha, they never do that, the cartels are not stupid.’

  ‘I killed Cholos, I grabbed Cali. What if they want me to hit the other cartels?’

  ‘Would you?’

  ‘I may have no choice, the British Government may ask me to.’

  ‘Already in Cali there is a new group, they offer to sell to me. If you kill them all their sons take over a year later!’ he spat out.

  ‘Yes, but if the Americans strike a deal with the growers, then what? What happens to the mules?’

  ‘I destroyed the mules here, less now in Costa Rica and Nicaragua, fewer even in Mexico.’ He faced me. ‘They come for me again?’

  ‘Maybe, so I need to find out who they are and deal with them.’

  ‘And if they order you to come for me?’

  ‘I give you a few days warning to get out. Then I destroy your nice villa.’

  ‘If they
catch you warning me..?’

  ‘To hell with them, I know where the bodies are buried. They won't put me on a witness stand.’

  ‘Your boss must love you.’

  ‘He has a few sleepless nights, but I work for myself. My unit, the politicians won't allow the intelligence men to control it, just ask us to do jobs. I work for the Army, technically, but they recognise I work for intel and so don't tell me what to do. I set my own agenda and both sides tolerate it. I sit in the middle. So if one side asks me to move on you, I pretend I work for the other side.’

  ‘And if someone offers you a hundred million to kill me?’

  I shot him a look. ‘Since when have I been interested in money, eh? They can offer all the money in the world.’ I raised a finger. ‘But … if they offered me a threesome with Sharon Stone and Jennifer Aniston, well then I'd definitely kill you.’

  He shot me a look as I laughed.

  I finally asked, ‘You sent car bombs to Medellin?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘No, then who?’

  ‘I’ve been asking. If it was me, I hurt some people. These car bombs, few hurt.’

  ‘Odd. Have you spoken to Medellin?’

  ‘Yes. They pretend all is OK, I pretend all is OK.’

  ‘You ship a lot of their drugs?’

  ‘Say … twenty percent. I buy from the hill farmers here and on the border, and from a few in Colombia, so I don’t rely on just one group.’

  ‘You are indeed a wise men.’

  Up in my room, my kit dumped down, Tiny walked in and closed the door behind her.

  ‘You need a back rub, soldier?’

  ‘I need more than a back rub. Do you do all over rubs?’

  ‘I do, and I offer great discounts for bulk orders.’

  ‘Great, I have dollars to pay with.’

  ‘I don't come cheap.’ She slipped off her dress, nothing on underneath.

  ‘That’s what a soldier needs to see more often, a leg knife.’

  She took it off and threw it as I eased my shirt off. ‘Were you injured?’

  ‘No, not this job.’

  She helped me get my boots off. ‘God, what a smell.’

  ‘And I washed them as well.’

  ‘Bin the socks.’

  Naked, I led her to the shower, getting stiff. ‘I turned down Salome again, I had you on my mind.’

  With the water cascading over us, she asked, ‘What did you see us doing in your dirty mind?’

  ‘Not sure, but … I need someone, and someone I can trust, and someone that can look after herself, and you fit the bill.’

  ‘More than just a quickie?’

  ‘More than just a quickie, if you're up to the task.’

  ‘Task?’ She washed my cock.

  ‘It comes with risks, like getting killed.’

  ‘I don't fret about my security, and I killed those men easily. I enjoyed it.’

  ‘That’s what I need, to worry less about someone I'm involved with.’

  ‘And back at base?’

  ‘You're training to be a spy, so if you can't keep a secret you're crap – and we'll sack you.’

  Dried off, and on the bed, we made love like a couple, not like a hooker and her punter, an hour used up. We finally lay cuddled, her head on my chest.

  ‘So what comes next?’ she asked.

  ‘Next comes the part where I worry about you.’

  ‘You worry about Swifty?’

  ‘He's like a brother, and if he was killed it would affect me, but I won't hold him back, and he'd be annoyed to fuck if I did. He doesn't want to grow old, he wants a bullet.’

  ‘Well you don't need to worry about me, I'm tough, and men always think I'm too small and cute. And they never see the leg knife.’

  ‘When we're back in the UK I'll get you some training courses, make a proper spy out of you, and you join my intel team.’

  She lifted her head and rested her chin on my chest as I stroked her hair. ‘I join the team?’

  ‘You have a head for this, and they can send you out on jobs to get intel. Like you said, no one suspects you.’

  ‘And SIS?’

  ‘You'd find it boring. More action with me. And more for you to do around Panama and Central America. They would be loaning you back to me. Besides, you'd last a week with them before facing a disciplinary.’

  She giggled.

  I told her, ‘If you stole money from men you killed or caught they'd boot you out, so never admit to that. They have rules.’

  ‘Rules are for pussies.’

  ‘I may have stretched some myself over the years.’

  ‘We go back to the UK now?’

  ‘Fuck no, it’s cold there. And I think things here will go from bad to worse.’

  ‘How'd you mean?’

  ‘Some of the Americans want to replace Tomsk and take all the money.’

  ‘Ah, he's so cute and cuddly.’

  ‘He'll need to be tough, war is coming.’