by Geoff Wolak
‘There is a new mini cartel of old members forming up already.’
‘A vacuum always does that.’
Off the phone, I sat staring ahead, tapping my chin with the phone as my team cooked. I called Franks. ‘Listen, where are the prisoners right now?’
‘On a tub headed north.’
‘Get a sat phone to the leader, right now, I need a chat. Lives are at stake.’
‘I’ll try -’
‘Make it happen, or I shout a little up the line!’
‘Leave it with me.’
I cooked with my team, a tea enjoyed, tinned meat downed, and my phone trilled half an hour later. ‘Hello?’
‘This is the Exec aboard the Boston. You the guy who needs to talk to the cartel boss?’
‘Yes, put him on.’
‘Hold on.’
‘Hello?’ came a familiar voice.
‘This is Petrov. I just destroyed your main drug labs, and took all your drugs, but that’s not why I’m calling. I have a deal for you.’
‘Deal?’
‘Yes, you confess all, on video, today, and later in court.’
‘And in return ... for this very odd surrender?’
‘You get your families to the airport tonight, I get them to Panama, new identity, and after that they live in America and visit you, or Europe. If not ... they’ll be dead within days, maybe hours; the city is a war zone, people wanting revenge.’
‘I would like to make a call.’
‘Put the Exec on.’
Hello?’ came and American accent.
‘Listen up. That guy’s family is about to be burnt alive, along with the families of the other cartel leaders. I’m working a deal where they confess all, their families get a new ID and a passport, visiting rights in the States. Otherwise, women and kids die and your trial of those men drags on and fails.
‘What I need you to do is to let the guy make some calls, have someone who speaks Spanish sat nearby, then get him to call me back. Don’t make a mistake here, you’ll be explaining it to a board of enquiry.’
‘It’s just a few calls, as you said.’
‘Get back to me. Out.’
I called our minister in Panama. ‘It’s Petrov. Have two C130 ready for after dark, to collect the families of the cartel from Cali airport.’
‘Collect their ... families?’
‘I want new identities for them, and protection. In return they confess all.’
‘Ah ... a trial would have been difficult, yes, they have money for good lawyers. They will stick to the deal?’
‘Will you let a hundred women and children die, even their children?’
After a pause came, ‘We will be ready.’
Phone away, No.3 said, ‘You make a deal, but will it work?’
‘They have little choice, Cali is burning. Get some rest first, then we swap.’
I had moved away downing after a tin of meat, my turn on stag, so my phone trilling did not wake my team. ‘Hello.’
‘I’m putting you on with the cartel boss,’ came an American accent.
‘Hello?’ came that same voice.
‘Do we have a deal?’ I asked.
‘I have spoken to the other men, most in favour, and we have little choice. Yes, we have a deal, but if it was anyone other than you I might think it a trick.’
‘Send your families to the airport after dark, get them to hide, bribe who you have to. There should be at least two aircraft, enough to carry two hundred or more people.’
‘I will arrange it now, there are few places in Colombia safe for them at the moment.’
‘Put the other guy back on.’
‘Hello?’ came the American accent.
‘Listen well. Let him make as many calls as he likes, get a video camera and then tape his confession, have senior officers witness it. Do you have any JAG?’
‘Yes.’
‘Have them represent the prisoners, tell them their rights. Then get a confession. And Exec, your president will be watching closely, so no slip-ups today.’
‘I’ll get the JAG officer here now.’
‘Any problems, call this number.’
‘You’re a Brit agent?’
‘Depends on the day of the week. Papa Victor Out.’
Stood there, an eye on the valley, I figured I should best update David, so called him. ‘It’s me. Listen, I struck a deal with the Cartel leaders.’
‘Deal?’
‘They confess all, go quietly, I get their families out of Cali. Panamanian Government will assist, they’re sending planes. Keep this under wraps for now, but what are the Colombians saying?’
‘They were stunned by the action, pleased behind closed doors, and have back-dated permission for the SAS to enter the country. They could not condone grabbing the men and burning down their houses since there were no arrest warrants – and even then you’re not allowed to burn people’s houses down, so they have quietly complained about that.
‘They have one face for us, another for their own people and their press. They’re pretending we went too far.’
‘That figures. And the American permission?’
‘They got none, and some high ranking US official told the Colombian Govern to ... go stick it up their arses.’
I smiled. ‘Good old American gunboat diplomacy. Any Colombian Federales or Army near me?’
‘They have been put on standby to bring order to the city, but ... I suspect they’ll allow the bloodletting to some degree, a few days at least. Your particular area is out of bounds to them for now, not that they ever bothered to venture there much in the past.’
‘I had twelve trucks full of drugs lined up on a road, ready to hand to Tomsk, but the Americans strafed the convoy.’
‘Anyone hurt?’
‘No, we were in the trees at the time.’
‘You would have handed that lot over?’
‘I have a part to play, remember. And Tomsk will send some money to the UK for me, so that’ll cover a holiday for the lads. I got him fifty million in goodies, plus a shit load of drugs, share certificates, but the Cartel’s bank codes ... they’re still on me.’
‘Ah. And what’ll you do with them?’
‘What would you like me to do with them?’
‘If we pinched the money it would come up in trial. Still, we could hold onto it for a while.’
I smiled widely. ‘If I make it back you may get them.’
‘We have a ship not far. I’ll reposition it. It has a Lynx, which could be used for medivac.’
‘Yes, good idea, but some around here do question my links to Western intelligence agencies.’
‘You’re in danger?’
‘Not in the least, which is a bit disappointing.’
‘Could use that Lynx to get those bank details...’
I laughed. ‘Set it up, let me know.’
Four hours later, I kicked No.3 awake, and lay down just as my phone went. ‘Papa Victor here.’
‘Deputy Chief, Langley. Can you talk?’
‘Yes, go ahead.’
‘White House was surprised that our prisoners were confessing on video, and just how that came about. You worked the deal?’
‘Yes, or their families would have been slaughtered.’
‘A few stunned individuals in the corridors of power, delicate questions being asked, since it’s being reported that our friend Petrov worked the deal. And, since he’s the world’s most wanted man – he’s someone we could never be seen to be dealing with, some great confusion in those corridors of power.’
‘Let the dust settle, then we can cook up a story. I’ll ask the cartel to forget about Russians being present and mention British soldiers. Then it’s Captain Wilco.’
‘They’ll cooperate?’
‘We can but wait and see, but as I found out when I raided their villas – their families are their weak points. They caved quickly when we threatened the families. Explain it to the FBI that if the families can visit th
e States, or even reside there, that the cartel bosses will cooperate.’
‘Will do. And this request, about the body of the Panamanian Minister’s son, we can see the logic and we’ll make a big fuss over it, yes, mend some bridges there after the DEA fiasco. But the real danger here is the publicity, and the Petrov role getting out.’
‘Try not to let it get out then, you are in charge of the world’s largest and best intelligence agency.’
‘If we were that good .... I’d find out who took my stapler!’
Smiling, I cut the call and got some rest, waking after dark. After a drink of water I had everyone kicked awake, Rocko and Rizzo having got eight hours rest almost. We formed teams, headcounts done, and I led the teams off to the north east, one major drug lab left to hit, but if they were still in residence they would have to be the world’s dumbest men.
A slow hour up and down steep ridges had me checking the map; finding a hidden base at night in the jungle would not be easy. I checked Rocko’s phone, did the maths, and altered course, counting paces and estimating distances as best I could.
We climbed over a rise and peered down, and whatever had previously been here was now well ablaze. There were no trucks or jeeps ablaze, so this had not been an attack. They had driven off, and had destroyed evidence as they went.
I led the teams north along the ridge, everyone glancing down at the fires in the valley below, and a hot hour brought us to a road, regular traffic seen, as well as an armed convoy. We moved to within four hundred yards of the road and headed east, back towards Cali, more than just a few Russians questioning the logic of that move.
But I knew I had to deal with the remaining gunmen, a fatal blow, or they would reform quickly – and head north to La Palma to attack Tomsk.
A further hour of slow movement parallel to the road, and I found the place I wanted, a place pinpointed by GCHQ. And down below were twenty jeeps, more than just a random gathering.
I called GCHQ and asked for any info about traffic in my immediate area. They were back on ten minutes later, this man Torgua organising men below, lots of men. Somehow, he had drugs and cash to pay men with. He wanted to get at the remaining drug labs before we did, and was planning on ‘dealing’ with us apparently.
I transmitted, ‘British snipers, destroy the jeeps below; tyres, engines and windscreens. Everyone else get behind something solid, good fire positions.’
Nestled behind a tree, No.3 the other side of it, quiet cracks sounded out, tyres soon exploding, men seen running for cover. Fire was returned, but they had no idea where we were. A few rounds pinged off the branches high above me.
‘It’s Nicholson, I got the man in charge.’
‘Good, now look for the second in command.’
After ten minutes of wanton destruction it fell quiet, the gunmen having run off north, a few killed – those having fired towards us.
‘Now what?’ No.3 asked as he eased back.
‘We set traps, we wear them down, or they come to La Palma looking for us.’
‘Better we finish them here than when I am sleeping,’ No.3 noted.
I transmitted, ‘Settle down for the night, set a stag per team, flysheets up for the rain, watch the road and our rear, we’ll be here till after dawn tomorrow.’
I found a good spot with my team and rigged up an elasticated flysheet big enough for ten men, ponchos down, a stag set up.
Ah hour later came, ‘It’s Tomo. I can see a door, and when they open it the light comes out.’
‘Shoot them if you want.’
The odd car drove past, none stopping, and it soon started to rain, but the heavy drone of Hercules caught my attention. The sounds dissipated, then grew fifteen minutes later, and I caught sight of three, not two, Hercules climbing away north; the rescue of the families had gone ahead as planned.
I called the Panamanian minister.
‘Ah, Petrov, we just got word that our aircraft have picked up the families.’
‘Three aircraft.’
‘No, two, but there was a civilian Hercules there as well, some smaller aircraft.’
‘Did all the families get away?’
‘Yes, only armed men left observing from jeeps.’
‘If there are costs, I will get you the money.’
‘It was a mercy mission, and all of Panama will soon know the depth of our compassion, and that right is on our side. And there has been a national TV appeal for anyone who lost relatives to the cartel to come forwards and give evidence.’
‘That will help with the trial, yes, and maybe some bodies will be found.’
‘That is the hope, yes. You are still in Colombia?’
‘I will finish the job, and kill the gunmen before I leave.’
‘We are grateful.’
I called Franks. ‘Have someone tell the cartel bosses that the airlift went off OK, all families at the airport airlifted out.’
‘Most of them gave video confessions, and will plead guilty, so the trials should not drag on. Where are you now?’
‘Above a road, just shot up an armed group, waiting the dawn to go hunting. A new group has formed already, so we need to deal with them before they deal with us.’
Two hours later, and Franks was back on. ‘Got some bad news. One of the Hercules with families on board was shot down.’
‘Shot ... down? How the fuck do you shoot down a Hercules at altitude?’
‘It was just over land, at the border, FARC territory.’
‘FARC? Shit, those fuckers still had a missile left.’
‘And a score to settle with the Cali Cartel; they have a history.’
‘Which Hercules was hit?’
‘Not the two Panamanian Air Force birds apparently.’
‘Get the cartel boss to call me. Do it now.’
Ten minutes later I got the call, the man sounding tired. ‘Listen, two Panamanian Air Force Hercules picked up your families tonight, but a third aircraft, a civilian aircraft also picked up families.’
‘Yes, organised by us.’
‘I have some bad news...’
‘What?’ came after a long pause.
‘As it flew over the border it was hit by a surface to air missile.’
‘FARC.’ I could hear the sigh. ‘They have wanted revenge for a long time.’
‘They broke the promise I made, so I will go for them. I will get you a list of families on the first two planes-’
‘The families of senior men went on the Air Force planes, they let us make calls earlier, I spoke to my wife. The last plane, they were families of employees.’
‘Then maybe I have kept my part of the deal. So do me a favour, and say that it was only British soldiers that grabbed you.’
‘A man questioned me about that earlier, and I figured you would not want a light shone on you, so we said little.’
‘Thank you, I will pressure the Panama Government to treat your families well, the Americans too.’
‘Your relationship with these groups is a puzzle to many, but I think I understand. You do the dirty work for them, their hands washed of blame if something goes wrong.’
‘You have a keen mind, yes. Things are never quite what they seem. And as I told some pilots recently: those who sing loudest in church ... are fucking small boys.’
He laughed. ‘The world ... as men like us see it, yes.’
‘I’ll get you talking to your family tomorrow, but after you get to the States I’ll have less influence.’
‘And what did your employer, Mister Tomsk, want done with us?’
‘He wanted you dead.’
‘You defied him.’
‘We have some leeway in our working relationship.’
‘As I have been learning, yes.’
‘Food OK on that ship?’
‘Surprisingly good.’
‘Good night.’
‘Wait,’ he called. ‘There’s no one listening to this at the moment. Do you think this phone is bugged?’
&
nbsp; ‘If it is bugged by the Americans there would be a high-level problem.’
‘I have money in Panama, hidden. I’d like it to get to my family somehow. I’d offer ... ten percent.’
‘I have no use for the money. So ... if you arrange for the bodies of the disappeared to be found by the Red Cross, I could see the money getting where it’s supposed to go.’
‘Your motivation is a great puzzle to me, a great puzzle. OK, we will list the locations. There is a mass grave at the following place.’
‘Hold on.’ I got my pad and pen, torch out. ‘OK, go ahead.’ He gave me the details. ‘I’ll send people there, and if we they find the bodies your family gets fifty percent of the money.’
‘And the other fifty percent goes to...?’
‘Families who lost husbands.’
‘Ah ... I see. Fifty percent then, since I am in no position to bargain.’ He detailed the location in Panama, a luxury apartment with a false wall. ‘And if the Americans are listening in?’
‘They get the money, then they get more shit than they would ever want. It would not be worth them upsetting me.’
‘Then I wait to hear from my family.’
‘I’ll be back in Panama in a week, after I kill your man Torgua?’
‘Torgua? He seeks power?’
‘Yes.’
‘I never liked him, and he is no leader. Kill the arsehole.’
‘Be a pleasure. Papa Victor out.’
I called Franks. ‘Make a note of this location.’ I gave him the detail. ‘Have Marines land tomorrow, doctors, it’s a mass grave. If your government does the DNA testing you’ll get favour with a great many people around here.’
‘How many bodies are there?’ Franks asked.
‘How many disappeared over the past twenty years?’
‘Thousands!’
‘Get on it for me, top priority.’
‘There’s CNN on this tub now, Washington Post, a few others.’
‘Perfect, have them land after the first body is found.’
As the dawn came up I was sat staring at a large spider moving slowly towards a frog, but I figured the frog poisonous, at least to us humans. I had placed my snipers to cover the road, teams now sat cooking.
‘This is Nicholson. We expecting the Colombian Army?’
‘No we fucking ain’t!’ I transmitted back. ‘Describe what you can see.’
