Wilco- Lone Wolf 16

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Wilco- Lone Wolf 16 Page 14

by Geoff Wolak


  ‘If that man has any trouble with the locals, we can assist. I will keep the FBI away.’

  ‘Ah, good. Atlantic are here, in a hotel, our best hotel. They have looked at the docks and at maps, some ideas. The water is shallow, so a pipe will go out four hundred metres, metal supports.’

  I nodded. ‘Same in Senegal.’

  ‘My god,’ the Russian gasped.

  ‘Have a drink,’ I told him.

  ‘Is that mine safe now?’ the President asked.

  ‘If Bastion was paying the men attacking us, yes, so we need to get answers to that question.’

  ‘We picked up some men attempting to transit our country, they are being made to talk.’

  I nodded. ‘Oh, try and get some men into the strip bombed by the Americans, see who is there causing trouble for us.’

  ‘I will, yes, I heard about the bombing.’

  ‘You know, the building at that mine, it has nine inches of reinforced concrete.’

  ‘What … for? It was just a mine,’ he puzzled.

  ‘That’s the odd thing. A very long runway, a very tough building. We’re trying to figure it out.’ I pointed at the diamond. ‘You can sell that?’

  ‘It will not be easy, maybe Tomsk can sell it. It is a great deal of money to hand over, perhaps … fifty-sixty million dollars.’

  ‘Don’t leave it lying around then. And … I hope to find more.’

  He squinted at me. ‘How?’

  ‘I have an idea where that came from. I’ll go look.’

  He nodded slowly as he studied the diamond, holding it up to the light. ‘A slight blue tint. Magnificent.’

  I collected the ambassador half an hour later, Swifty and Smitty looking bored, and our ride disturbed the city workers as it roared in. We boarded with our doctor, but without Bastion, a wave goodbye given, but we headed west and to the FOB, a short hop.

  Down from the Chinook, it took our ambassador and his doctor back to Freetown. Inside, I sat with Moran and discussed his deployments, a brew enjoyed before we grabbed supplies and had them stacked near the strip.

  I checked in on Wolf recruit Murphy. He was walking, but like a man with balloons for balls.

  A Puma set down later, supplies thrown aboard, and we set off northeast. Coming in over the vast white mine I could see a Hawkeye sat on the runway. We set down behind it, plenty of room, Admiral Jacobs stepping out of the main door with two Marines as bodyguards as I jumped down from the Puma.

  I ran across, eased upright and then saluted.

  ‘They said you were on your way back,’ Admiral Jacobs noted.

  ‘Got those aerial photos, sir?’

  ‘Inside.’ He led me in and to the HQ room, another naval officer there. Morten has his large battery lamp set-up.

  ‘Satellite images and the infra-red, some regular images,’ Admiral Jacobs told me.

  ‘Great, that’ll help figure the tracks and the footpaths. I’ll show you the layout.’ He followed with his team next door and up the stairs, the Greenies saluting. On the top floor I pointed out the features, the runway he had landed on, and where the attacks had come from.

  ‘Who are those people?’ he said, pointing down into the mine.

  ‘We found an old skeleton, and down there is the man’s daughter and brother, recovering it.’

  ‘Died in the civil war here?’

  ‘No, he was … silenced. This place was built by the men behind the coup against us, built in 1977. We found five bodies down there, problem is … the men are all alive and well and high up in British Petroleum, one was working with Mi6.’

  His eyes widened. ‘Sleeper agents? Shit…’ He stared down. ‘Russian?’

  ‘No, a rival oil company it seems, American. Russians were never that good. You’ll see it in the news because my government wants a loud public trial.’

  ‘God damn, twenty year sleeper agents. You don’t need an airport novel, huh.’

  ‘Plenty of intrigue around this place; I have the teams out looking for skeletons.’

  ‘You got the guy behind the attacks I hear?’

  ‘Behind many of the attacks, sir, yes. Might have nothing for you do around here soon.’

  ‘Then think about the Red Sea region,’ he firmly suggested. ‘How are our Lone Wolves?’

  ‘Shit hot, lots of experience, solid attitude.’

  ‘So we can expect some good results.’

  ‘Recruit Murphy was wounded, testicle removed.’

  His face screwed up. ‘Ouch.’

  ‘I cut my own off in the field when it got infected.’

  He held up a flat hand. ‘No more balls getting cut off already!’

  His staff all smiled widely.

  ‘Is there something, sir?’ I nudged.

  He glanced at his adjutant. ‘I … got to have minor surgery down there. It’s … freaking me out.’

  ‘Bit late for you to worry about starting a family, sir.’

  ‘I got four kids, had the snip, now they say that the snip might have caused complications. Fucking doctors.’

  A chat to the Greenies and his Seals, and he grabbed his ride, the aircraft powering down the runway and lifting up with plenty of length to spare.

  With the drone abating I walked down into the mine. Dicky reported, ‘Got some bones, skull, teeth. This lot say he was smashed in the head with something like a rifle but, teeth knocked out.’

  I nodded, and waited.

  Facemask down, Doctor Abrahams walked over. ‘I want more time.’

  ‘I’ll give you that time, if you assist me.’

  ‘Assist you?’

  I led her away, well away. ‘I’ll help you … if you help me find the men who killed your father.’

  ‘You think you could find them?’ she puzzled.

  ‘I have some clues, yes.’

  ‘Black rebel soldiers?’

  I shook my head.

  She studied me. ‘What do you know?’

  ‘Do we have a deal?’

  ‘Why the cloak and dagger?’

  ‘The men who operated this mine are the same men that wanted to kill Princess Diana.’

  She was shocked. ‘What … what’s the link?’

  ‘This mine was operated by NordGas -’

  ‘The people whose building blew up!

  ‘And their security men were Bastion -’

  ‘Who also got blown up!’

  ‘And NordGas paid for the coup here, paid the men that fought against the British soldiers here.’

  ‘What in blazes for?’

  ‘Under your feet is more oil than anyone knows about. It was kept quiet.’

  ‘So … they wanted the oil, and not done through a fair deal. I see. And the link to Diana?’

  ‘A group of very rich and powerful men, some European, some American, many in the city of London, the old boy network, lords and peers.’

  She looked away. ‘And one of them wanted her silenced, no tell-all book, no marriage to a Muslim.’

  ‘When men have power, they move beyond simply making money, they think they can shape the world their way.’

  ‘Power corrupts, yes. And my father’s role?’

  ‘He was looking at ancient tribes here, and those ancient tribes found blood diamonds over the centuries, large ones. The tribes placed them in stone carvings.’

  ‘My father would have been interested in the carvings, yes, not the diamonds.’

  ‘And if he found some, worth fifty million dollars each…’

  ‘A great temptation for any man, yes. Enough to kill for.’

  ‘I think he never told them what he found.’

  ‘So they killed him, in spite.’ She nodded to herself.

  ‘Will you assist me?’

  She straightened her outfit and wiped a tear with the back of a gloved hand. ‘Yes, of course. What do you need?’

  ‘Silence for now. Get rid of that lot, stay behind a few days. We have some jungle to explore.’

  She took in the distant tre
e line. ‘To find what my father found. After all these years it will be overgrown surely.’

  ‘It must have been overgrown to start with, after a few hundred years of sitting there. Besides, I have thermal images, and some men who are good in the jungle.’ I pointed up at the building. ‘I’ll be up there.’

  She got back to digging as I left her, a trek back up in the limestone as I considered who might have killed our Paleontologist. A young Rene Bastion came to mind.

  In the HQ room I grabbed the photo pack and walked outside. I had 14 Intel bring a table out, and a chair for me. Sat there in the bright sun, I studied the images. The river came in from the northeast, moved west, south and around, out to the southeast; it almost surrounded us here and made for a good defensive position for an old tribe.

  But how did they live back then, and were they just hunter-gathers, I wondered. Few ancient stone items had ever been discovered in Africa, that I knew, but they had cattle and fire and an organised life, at least in many places. But there were no pyramids or stone structures around here.

  A glance over my shoulder, and I tried to imagine what this area would have looked like if a tribe lived here, above the river, trees cut down in some places, wooden houses on stilts maybe, kids running around, lazy smoke rising from a fire or two.

  The high ground was west, around 600yards from me, and it would have had a commanding view over the river basin, protected on three sides. And that river would have given up shiny stones to some woman sat cleaning clothes at the river bank, a sparkle seen, the stone kept.

  A Puma returned for our guests at 5pm, but Doctor Abrahams remained. I did see our RAF runway expert depart though. Would have been nice if he asked me first.

  The bones, the faded clothing, the teeth and other items had been photographed, catalogued, and taken away, and Doctor Abrahams joined me in the HQ room after washing herself as best she could. She did, at least, have boots on.

  I faced Morten. ‘See if you have any clothing suitable for Doctor Abrahams, she’s staying a while.’

  I went and found Maggy, a large pair of lightweight green trousers borrowed and handed over as Morten and his team shared food with Abrahams, a chat about the bones.

  After she had eaten I led her outside. Pointing west, I said, ‘That would have been the high point, a commanding view over the river basin.’

  ‘You’re thinking like a European, cannons and arrows. They had no arrows, no cannon, and did not seek good defensive positions, they would have been down near the river, houses on stilts.’

  ‘Well you’re the expert.’

  ‘We should search the river banks for old signs.’

  ‘Would they have buried the dead, a headstone?’

  ‘No. They often fed their dead to their animals, or hung them up in the forest for the demons to feed on. Animals would have eaten the bodies.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘No burial sites around here, but some tribes did bury relatives, the chieftains. We’d be looking for a stone carving, and it would have sat in the village to ward off evil spirits.’

  ‘Stay there.’ I fetched the satellite images and the infra-red, and she looked through them. ‘Here, down by the river.’ She faced west and then southwest.

  ‘Down there. A round area dug out in the side of the river. They would dig out an area, twelve inches deep, put in wooden stakes to trap the fish, a way in upstream which would be closed when they wanted to spear the fish.

  ‘That would have been near the village, so near the carvings. This side of the river.’

  ‘We can take a look in the morning,’ I offered.

  ‘Will we be attacked here tonight?’

  ‘If we are attacked then we’ll kill those attackers, we have more than a hundred off the world’s best soldiers here. Don’t worry, the Guinea soldiers are crap, only good for rape and pillage.’

  ‘And your clue … as to who killed my father?’

  ‘Four men are on trial in the UK, from BP, espionage trials. Their bodies were found down there, buried at the same time as your father.’

  ‘Their bodies?’

  ‘The men were replaced by sleeper agents, and killed, so someone here was willing to kill around that time. Those men should give up who they work for, and maybe identify who did the killing here. They may also know who killed your father, and why.’

  ‘And the men they work for?’

  ‘A work in progress.’

  ‘NordGas might know?’ she nudged.

  ‘If you approached them you’d be killed.’ I waited.

  She glanced down the mine. ‘Then I hope this trial reveals the truth. I’ll try and sit on it.’

  ‘Unlikely to be public, it’s espionage.’

  After she left me I checked in with Haines, his men ready, and I had three ambush points created, four Wolves in each. The Greenies were all back, but those four men who had remained here overnight now plodded west to create a static ambush point as we lost the light.

  When Monster came back in with his large patrol he took me outside. ‘We came across a dozen wounded, finished them off, stripped weapons and threw bits in the bush. Lower down we found a group of eight and pasted them, same deal with the weapons, and by the river we found a dozen wounded, most delirious. We chucked them in the river, they drowned.’ He shrugged. ‘Fish gotta eat.’

  ‘They do, yes. Get some chow and some rest.’

  ‘Chow?’ he repeated with a smile as he headed inside.

  Last team in was Mitch, coming in from the northeast after radio contact with Nicholson, no shouts for the medics as I stood there watching the black blobs approach.

  Mitch stood to one side as they trailed in, all tired and muddy. ‘No wounded, couple of scratches from trees. Didn’t come across anyone, but we circled around wide.’

  I stopped Greenie, and waited till Salome was inside. ‘How did Salome do?’

  He sighed loudly. ‘She’s cool under pressure, not afraid, knows here stuff, but she won’t listen to good advice and always does her own thing. Will you … be assigning her to me again?’

  ‘No, once is enough for any man.’

  ‘You’re damn right it is.’

  ‘Hey, if you hand me a bomb, I hand you an Israeli!’

  I led them inside, and in the HQ room many men ate and chatted about the patrols and the action, and getting bombed here. Mitch’s team bedded down quickly after eating, and went to sleep quickly, rifles held ready, but boots were off to air feet – a cause of complaint.

  I ate with Swifty and Sasha, chatting quietly, tinned fruit enjoyed. When my phone trilled it was David Finch. I moved to a window. ‘Right, Boss.’

  ‘You left Rene Bastion in Monrovia?’

  ‘Yep, he’s being … questioned.’

  ‘Many questions being asked about that odd move, but two doctors said he was too unwell to move or to stand trial, so … not much anyone can argue with. No arrest warrants for him as it stands anyhow.’

  ‘Red Cross doctors can visit him in Monrovia, he will have his fingers still attached.’

  ‘What state was he in?’

  ‘He was alert, yet dying from AIDS and syphilis, but the doctors think his decision making was flawed, and that might explain his actions. Maybe the bank told him “no” but he kept fighting.’

  ‘Sounds like he had nothing to lose,’ David noted.

  ‘No. What about our BP spies?’

  ‘Four out of four want to cut a deal and see families again.’

  ‘Working for an American oil company and senator?’

  ‘You are an annoying little so and so, you know that.’

  ‘I have friends in high places. What will you do?’

  ‘The Prime Minister wants the detail released, maximum public embarrassment for the Americans. A warning for the future.’

  ‘He’ll regret that, and learn how much influence they have over us.’

  ‘True, but for now he wants to throw his toys out the pram.’

  ‘And murd
er charges against the Americans?’ I posed.

  ‘If and when there’s some evidence, yes. For now that senator will be tried in the court of public opinion. Hold on.’ I heard the sigh. ‘Scratch that idea, a heart attack just took that senator out of the equation.’

  ‘You do live in a world of double-dealing and intrigue, eh.’

  ‘How is it down there?’

  ‘Quiet, many a dead Guinea rebel rotting in the jungle.’

  ‘And Doctor Abrahams?’

  ‘Is still here. They got the bones away, rest of the team departed, she’s still here.’

  ‘Why … is she still there?’

  ‘Indiana Jones time.’

  ‘There’s … something to find in a booby-trapped cave?’

  ‘There is. I’ll tell you if we find it.’

  ‘And the plan here..?’

  ‘We quell the area, make an assessment, get the oil boys in. You know, this mine was all about cement.’

  ‘Cement? No money in cement.’

  ‘No, but cement made the runway and the road, and would have made the road to the docks, and the docks themselves, a huge saving.’

  ‘Ah, I see. Yes, a prudent move – if you want to move oil.’

  ‘Maybe a pipeline encased in concrete.’

  ‘Another prudent move, yes.’

  ‘A concrete dam, bridge over a river…’

  ‘So … they had plans. Just that the civil war spoilt their plans. You know, until 1980 they were known as the Masonic People of Liberia.’

  ‘Masons? Black masons in the jungle?’

  ‘In the cities and towns perhaps. The white men who sent them were all masons.’

  ‘Masons get everywhere, don’t they.’

  ‘They do, yes. But not in SIS, we don’t allow it – for obvious reasons.’

  ‘And for obvious reasons, perhaps you should not allow it in the police, in the courts.’

  ‘Beyond my power,’ he quipped. ‘Hope you have a quiet night.’

  We did enjoy a quiet night, the grey dawn light seeping around the door to wake me. After my pee I quietly got a brew going, but I left Swifty to sleep; he looked comfy. At the door I stood with Tiny since she had landed herself an early stag. She looked tired.

  I offered her some of my tea and she sipped. ‘I love the dawn here, best time. Peaceful,’ I told her.

 

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