by Geoff Wolak
‘No, they had a quick look at a jungle strip through the trees, but they got a good look and reported what they saw. Families were not visible from the air, and rebel soldiers often have families close by – their fault; you don’t fight a war with your family alongside you.’
‘Lord Abrahams is on his way with his niece, UK police and forensic experts, Prime Minister has assured him of full cooperation.’
‘This is not a safe spot, so I’ll give them an hour.’
‘They may argue the case!’
‘Bollocks.’ I cut the call. Facing the mortars, I sighed. ‘It’s never easy, is it.’
Henri came back in, walking the length of the runway, a long time to reach us. He kicked up white dust and joined me as his team moved inside. ‘We saw a white man, with three blacks, all with AK47s. When the locals saw these men they ran, so we used silencers and killed the men.’
He handed me a dated and battered sat phone. ‘The Wolf took it apart, good with electronics, no bomb in it.’
I switched it on and held it at arm’s length, just in case, and past the test message it did not explode. I called SIS and had them trace it as Henri headed inside for some food.
It was starting to get dark, so I called Nicholson. ‘Go into the town with Tomo and Swan, get as close as you can without being seen, get up high, silencers on, and anyone with a rifle that looks dodgy – drop them. Quit around 2am, report anything odd, call for back-up if you need it.’
‘Moving soon, Boss. I’ll let the Seals know we’re moving.’
Inside, I enjoyed more ham, listening to the tale of a small patrol shot up by Robby.
When my phone trilled it was SIS. ‘You wanted a sat phone traced, and it’s been calling Conakry in Guinea. We can pin it down to a few city blocks, not much better than that.’
‘OK, update Captain Moran with the best guess coordinates please.’
With most of the previous day’s patrols back I had spare Wolves patrolling inside the tree line, 2 Squadron patrolling at the tree line. Those Wolves with Tomo and Nicholson would continue to patrol east and to watch the road.
As the sun set, many damp and smelly men were drying off, sleeping after their long patrols, or sat cleaning kit, some grabbing rations or more water.
Mitch called at 9pm. ‘We got company. Jeeps pulled up, had a look at our handy work and drove off. Now we got an entire company walking down the track towards the river.’
‘Stay back, don’t engage, call it when they’re across the river, give me accurate coordinates.’ Off the phone, I stood in the corridor and shouted, ‘Stand to! Anyone who’s fit and well - get ready! Man the mortars!’
Outside, I transmitted, ‘Wilco to all mobiles, we have a large force crossing the river north, company size. 2 Squadron, double back here, Wolf patrols – if you hear this, come back in.’
Swifty appeared. ‘I’m good to go.’
‘Get seven Wolves, get ready to move out.’
Monster stepped out. ‘Where’d you want me?’
‘Up the tall building, grab three Wolves, second floor.’
He headed back inside.
Swifty returned with his chosen seven. ‘What’s the plan?’ his dark outline asked as he checked magazines.
‘Go due north 500yards, find a spot for an ambush, careful of fire from here, so hunker down.’
He led his team off into the dark treeline, Henri appearing with his previous team, rifles being cocked.
‘Did you get any rest?’ I asked.
‘We found an abandoned house last night, we rotated sleep, yes, we’re OK.’
‘Go to the treeline, go east three hundred paces, go in three hundred, find a good ambush spot.’
He led his team off to the treeline.
Stretch led his former team out. ‘You fit and well?’ I asked him.
‘Yeah, got plenty of kip today, couple hours last night.’
‘Go to the treeline, count three hundred paces west, go in three hundred and find a good ambush spot. Hunker down or the boys here will shot you in the backside.’
‘Where are the Yanks positioned?’
‘A mile or two west.’
He led his patrol to the treeline and turned left. I transmitted, ‘Listen up. Teams are in the treeline, at least 300yards in and not wandering about, so watch the treeline for movement, and the east and west approaches.’
Glancing down the mine, I called “D” Squadron and alerted them.
The Engineers major appeared at my side. ‘What about our vehicles? They could be shot up in the cross-fire!’
‘You could drive them to the middle of the mine perhaps, but a stray round could still hit them. Besides, I’m not planning on letting anyone get close to us. I have a team following the bad guys, and they can hit them from behind.’
‘Why not do that now?’ he complained.
‘Because I want the rebels a little closer, and boxed in. Get your men with rifles to the windows facing the trees, but listen out for when I say shoot or don’t shoot, you could hit our men as they move about.’
He walked off in a huff, leaving me shaking my head; he was Army in name only. At the mortars I found the 2 Squadron sergeant. ‘You ready?’
‘We checked tubes earlier, sir, cleaned them, shells lined up ready – and wiped down!’
‘For now, aim due north, 2,000yards.’
Compass checked, tubes were adjusted by torch light.
My phone trilled fifteen minutes later. ‘It’s Mitch, and they’re across the river, not that switched on, no one watching the rear. Do we cross over?’
‘No, you make sure they don’t get back over the river, and you watch your own rear – there could be more men arriving. Any guards left with the trucks?’
‘Some, yeah.’
‘Have someone kill them quietly. And before you leave, destroy the trucks, eh.’
‘Could drive them to you…’
‘You’d have to go east twenty miles, south fifteen miles, then west, then north, and you may run into someone.’
‘Ah, so forget that then.’
‘When I drop the mortars, you call the accuracy. Standby.’
I checked my map in the HQ room - people asking questions, I worked out the right bearing – allowing for the difference between map north and magnetic north, and I returned to the mortars.
‘Bearing zero-one-six, eighteen hundred yards. Fire … fuck … fire ten. Nine I mean.’
Tubes adjusted, shouts exchanged, and the first three shells were dropped, loudly popping out as the Press officers filmed. The second salvo loudly popped out, finally a third before the sergeant called a halt.
I called Mitch.
‘Hello?’
‘How was the aim?’
‘Good enough to scatter them, ten wounded say.’
‘They still moving forwards?’
‘Some are, I can see torches.’
‘Standby.’ Off the phone I said, ‘Shorten the distance by 100yards, fire three!’
Tubes adjusted, three shells were loudly lobbed.
My phone trilled. Mitch. ‘That was better, I saw the flash and men killed. They’re coming back to the river and arguing with each other.’
‘Get them as they cross.’ Phone down, I shouted, ‘Add on 200yards, fire three!’
Three rounds popped out. ‘Low on shells!’ was reported.
‘It’s OK, they turned around. You bastards spoilt their plans.’
‘What? Us?’ came a complaint.
‘Yeah, you, blowing up black soldiers out for a nice evening stroll.’
I left them laughing and climbed up the stairs to Haines. ‘Our aim any good?’ his dark outline asked.
‘Yeah, we turned them around, that lot at least. Could be more of them active tonight.’ I transmitted, ‘Wilco to Henri.’
‘Go ahead.’
‘Standby. Swifty, you hear me?’ There was no response. ‘Stretch, you hear me?’
‘Yeah, clear signal.’
; ‘The mortars hit the rebels moving this way, they’re turned around. Get some rest, every second man who needs it, go no intel on anyone else out there tonight. All teams, same routine, but take it easy, rotate the watch.’
I called Swifty. ‘You can stand down and wait, the mortars turned them around.’
‘Standby … got a cheeky chappy sneaking along.’
‘How many?’
‘Looks like two of them.’
‘Take no chances, they could be the good hired help.’ Off the phone, I transmitted, ‘All teams, this is Wilco, forget what I just said, we have small teams sneaking in. Henri, Stretch, get ready, use your ears. Rest of you, stay sharp, but stay down, heads down!’
‘Snipers?’ Haines asked.
‘Professionals by the sound of it, and not part of the clumsy brigade.’
‘So maybe the clumsy brigade were the distraction,’ he suggested.
‘Yep, to tie us up whilst the snipers get a shot.’ I called “D” Squadron and warned them. They would move to the trees and hide.
The waiting was tense, men staring out, heads turning like owls. Fortunately we had the white dust on the ground, the limestone, so no one would be getting close unseen. Up here on the third floor we had a gentle breeze from the north, so I sniffed the air for smoke every now and then – and used my ears for animal calls.
We also had Kamikaze bats swooping in and through the building, quiet yet piercing shrieks given off.
‘What’s with the bats?’ a Greenie asked.
‘They can smell you, they’re attracted to human sweat,’ I lied.
‘Really?’
‘No, idiot. But did you know that mosquitoes are attracted to human breath, the CO2.’
‘I did know that,’ he insisted.
My phone trilled as I sat against a wall with Haines, the men here being black blobs against a lighter background, the treeline black, the foreground a dark grey. ‘This is Sergeant Demoine, Seals. We just killed two armed men walking down the road.’
‘They were walking down the road?’ I puzzled.
‘And jabbering away. But they were jabbering quietly at least.’
‘Police up the bodies, be careful with booby traps.’
‘Boys are dragging them off now.’
Off the phone, I told Haines and the two Greenies, ‘Two rebels just walked down the road, got shot.’
‘Walked down the road?’ Haines repeated. ‘Good tactical move, eh.’
‘They probably figured they were far enough away, and that they’d duck into the tree line further along.’
I moved down a floor to Monster and his volunteers, two Greenies here as well. Sat against a side wall, I said, ‘They’re coming in, in pairs. But so far … still a bit crap.’
‘Treeline favours the lone sniper,’ Monster noted. ‘But they’d have to swing a big pair.’
‘Depends on what they were told … about us. A sensible man would avoid us, but they don’t know us, and probably think there are ten soft British soldiers here.’
Swifty called, my phone adding some light to a dark room. ‘We got these two. But, Wilco, one is a white guy.’
‘Shit. Any ID?’
‘He has a pass to a mine in Angola.’
‘A phone?’
‘No, unless he dropped it.’
‘I’ll want that body dragged back in the morning. Stay put.’
Half an hour passed, a quiet half an hour, just the crickets and the tree frogs for company. Cracks sounded out, but faint and distant, men up and looking.
I eased up. ‘Report the shooting.’
‘It’s Stretch, and we killed a white guy.’
‘In the morning, drag his body back. Stay there, stay sharp. Any ID?’
‘He has an ID for a mine in Guinea.’
‘Roger that.’ A mine in Angola, now one in Guinea. All security guards on the payroll probably, but working for who? The only connection was Bastion, who had security men in all countries down here, men wanting a bonus for some extra work.
My phone trilled twenty minutes later, as I sat in the dark, the bats buzzing us. ‘Duty Officer. GCHQ have some signals intel for you. Sat phone of interest, previously tagged near Freetown a year or more back, also Liberia two years back, and Guinea, now two miles east of you. It’s linked to Conakry with recent calls.’
‘Great, thanks.’
I called Nicholson in a hurry. ‘It’s me. Our bad boy mastermind is in your town, find him, find a white guy. Him stood in a light using a sat phone would be a good indicator, so don’t just kill all the white men.’
‘Got some suspicious movement, big compound on the south side, we’ll close in.’
‘I’m sending more men.’ I called back the Seals. ‘It’s Major Wilco. Get all your men together, get down the road fast, to where it branches, stop traffic from the town. You see a white guy, grab him. More men on the way. Move out fast!’
‘Right, sir.’
Phone down, I said, ‘Monster, these three, get ten more, get down that road at a steady jog, get north of the town and in groups of three of four, observe the town for movement, and any white men seen. Seals are at the road junction towards the town. Go! Wait, grab a fucking truck and a driver, ride some of the way!’
They rushed out. I walked slowly down the dark steps, thinking. Inside the main building, the HQ room well lit, I said to the Engineers major, ‘I need some jeeps and some brave men. We have the mastermind behind the attacks, in the town, need to stop him.’
Four sergeants volunteered. I placed four male members of 14 Intel with them, plus Mouri. ‘You drive to the road junction with the town, lights on, American Seals are there. If a jeep comes at you then turns around, go after it, capture or kill them. You 14 Intel men, you have my lads’ frequency, so listen out, they may call for you to move in – suspect compound on the south side. Go!’
They rushed out, jeeps started, lights on, and they sped down the road come runway.
Mitch called as I stood watching the jeep lights fade, the truck returning. ‘We hit twenty trying to cross over, so they’ve given up on that idea, now scattered.’
‘Dangerous for you to come back that way, so go to ground till dawn then go the long way around. And we’re seeing men approach in pairs, from a few directions, same crap planning though at the moment. Is Salome still alive?’
‘None of us have tried to kill her yet, but the night is young.’
Back in the HQ room I had two medics and kit sent to a jeep with a driver, to be ready to grab wounded men – or a wounded prisoner.
The Seals called half an hour later. ‘Sir, a jeep failed to stop and tried to turn, so we shot out the tyres. They grabbed a rifle so we shot the men inside, two locals.’
‘Push the jeep to the side of the road, try and get any ID or sat phones.’
‘No sat phone, sir, we searched, but a big bag of weed.’
‘In that case, you killed the local dealer not the men we were after. Stay sharp. Oh … and make sure that the weed is tossed away.’
‘Right, sir.’
Nicholson called a few minutes later. ‘We can see a white guy, bald and a bit fat, beige utility waistcoat and a pistol.’
‘Sounds more like the boss than a mercenary.’
‘He likes his pudding, this one.’
‘How many men with him?’
‘A dozen at most, and we have radio contact with our boys north, they’re moving south down a stream – for cover, be with us soon. Thought I heard shots fired west.’
‘Seals shot up the local drug supplier, not related to your mark. Hit the local men, but try real hard and get the white guy alive.’
He was back on fifteen minutes later. ‘That new guy, Monster, just hit six of the blacks here as they tried to leave, we hit the rest. Our white guy is hiding inside, so we’re shooting out the windows to tempt him out.’
‘Did Monster coordinate with you?’
‘Yeah, they were moving up quietly when the men walked out t
o vehicles. He walked up into the light and shot them quick but casual then double tapped. Reminded me of you.’
I smiled. ‘I would have done it in a professional manner, not casual.’
‘Ha, you often look casual.’
‘Get me my white guy alive, and back here, then withdraw everyone.’
‘Right, Boss.’
I waited at the door with Dicky, chatting quietly in the dark, people stepping out for a pee. When Tiny wanted a pee she asked that we watch her. She meant for safety, I was reasonably sure. At least, I though she meant that.
She squatted and peed in the dark, then kicked dust over it, trousers back up. ‘That’s better, I was holding it, for a lull.’
‘Use a bottle, pour it out the window,’ I suggested. ‘Or just stick your arse out the window.’
‘Don’t be crude,’ she told me as she headed inside.
‘How was that crude?’ Dicky wondered.
Fifteen minutes later my phone trilled. ‘It’s Nicholson, Boss, and he surrendered after we set fire to the place. We pinched a jeep, Monster is tabbing back down the road with the others.’
‘Have the Seals wait for Monster then withdraw to normal positions.’
‘Right, Boss.’
I soon saw the lights, a jeep coming on and down the strip, and it finally parked next to the Army’s jeeps, our prisoner bundled off and dragged forwards by Tomo, Nicholson and Swan.
I had Dicky take our prisoner inside, my snipers sent back to their usual position. ‘Stay sharp, pairs of snipers sneaking in.’ They jumped into the jeep and drove it down the runway.
Inside, I had Morten look at our fat prisoner.
‘Who’s he?’ the Engineers major asked, the RAF runway expert listening in.
‘The man who pays for Guinea rebels to attack us.’ Morten handed me a wallet. I took the dollars out and gave them to Rizzo. ‘Beer money for the lads.’
‘That’s hardly due process,’ the major complained.
‘Killing British enlisted men is hardly due process.’
‘No, but he has rights, the right to a fair trial.’
‘And he may get one. In the meantime, don’t throw away our career and get yourself a prison term.’
His eyes widened and he shocked upright.
‘This is Intel work, high level. Majors who interfere get shot and buried.’
