Wilco- Lone Wolf 22

by Geoff Wolak

  The President finally came on. ‘Major Wilco, something urgent?’

  ‘Some information, sir, and some advice sought. First off, my sources now tell me that LAX could be the target, and London is tracking a phone moving towards LAX, and that you have two hours.’

  I could hear the hushed conversations in the background.

  ‘We have a plan, FBI ready to shut nominated airports, local SWAT teams ready, and New York’s airports have police in the flight path. Fortunately, the flight paths are mostly over water. Why the switch to LAX?’

  ‘Desperate men, time constraints perhaps, and we think there are five teams already north of the border,’ I lied.

  ‘Jesus, so five airports could be targeted.’

  ‘I have solid intel on LAX, sir, but I was seeking some advice.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘I have a Naval officer stood next to me, his wife and kids due to fly from LAX in a few hours. I was wondering just what the fuck I’m supposed to tell the man.’

  After a long pause came, ‘That’s below the belt, Major,’ but it was not from the President.

  ‘OK, let me make this easy for you. Ten minutes ago I spoke to the Press, a friend, and I asked him to delay the story about LAX by one hour. So you have about fifty minutes to do something before the panic spreads, and if this all goes to shit you can blame me.’

  The Admiral looked horrified.

  ‘We have no wish to discredit you, Major,’ came from the President. ‘You’re a valued asset, and we’re in your debt, more so now than ever. We have the warning from you, it’s recorded, rest is up to us. Thank you, Major.’ The call was ended,

  ‘Did you call the Press?’ the commander asked me.

  ‘Not yet,’ I told him.

  The Admiral put in, loudly, ‘You just tried to bluff the President, and that gets a man a lot of years in a cell!’

  ‘Well, sir, at least I’ll get to rest my aching back,’ I nonchalantly told him. I stood tall. ‘Do I release a story to the Press, sir, or do we wait for this officer’s wife and kids to board the plane?’

  He faced the officer I was pointing at. And waited. He finally began, and softly, ‘My family fly out of LAX in the morning.’ He faced me, and tried to hide his conflicting feelings. ‘Give the White House their fifty minutes first.’

  I faced the JAG officers, and waited.

  ‘Screw the President,’ one began. ‘None of us voted for the ass-grabbing jerk.’

  I smiled. ‘I was hoping for a legal assessment more than a moral judgement.’

  ‘Do you have a written contract of employment with the US military or the CIA?’

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘Does your government have one that covers you?’

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘Then they can’t touch you for releasing information.’ He shrugged.

  I faced the officer whose family were due to fly. ‘Got your wife’s cell number for me?’

  He faced the Admiral, who finally nodded.

  I made a call. ‘That Maddy?’

  ‘Yes..?’

  ‘Major Wilco, British Army, aboard the Kitty Hawk with your husband.’

  ‘Is he OK?’

  ‘Yes. But, legally, he can’t tell you that LAX airport will be hit with a major terrorist attack in a few hours.’

  ‘Oh my god, we’re driving there!’

  ‘Can you take a hint, Maddy?’

  ‘I’m turning around at the next exit.’ She cut the call.

  I faced the officer. ‘Does your wife gossip?’

  ‘Word will spread faster than Reuters,’ he said with a sigh, officers smiling.

  I faced the Admiral. ‘Your family won’t fly, sir. I’ll make sure of that, and to hell with my career prospects.’

  ‘What was it you said earlier?’ the commander began. ‘Ignore those above you, save the ten people in front of you..?’

  ‘Now you see how I live day to day,’ I told him. ‘I have tough calls like this one to make every week. And those above me don’t like to give me advice or direct orders, it would make them responsible for the tough decisions.’

  The commander asked me, ‘Why do they give you so much leeway?’

  I sat. ‘Years ago, they sent me out to kill various bad boys. But instead of killing those men I recruited them, helped them, got them dealing with each other, and six years on they’ve prospered and they trust me. Those men have an ear for underworld activities, but they only talk to me.’

  ‘Which makes you very valuable,’ the Admiral noted. ‘So don’t go taking any risks, eh.’

  They laughed.

  I faced Franks. ‘No more risks, eh.’

  ‘Ha.’

  A meal of cold sandwiches was brought up to me, despite the fact that we were still at General Quarters.

  ‘When do you guys sleep?’ I asked.

  ‘One hour naps,’ I was informed. ‘Pee into bottle or use the nearest head, cold food at General Quarters, rotate the naps in your team or in the shops.’

  ‘Shops?’

  ‘A unit of men, like the electrical engineering shop.’

  Half an hour later, and CNN was announcing that LAX and San Diego airports were closing due to a terrorist threat, planes diverted north, or east to Vegas, all outgoing flights cancelled.

  When my phone trilled it was the Deputy Chief, sounding tired.

  ‘How is it out there?’ I asked him.

  ‘Total fucking chaos, LAX and San Diego closed, troops on the streets, and airports further north have each five hundred police around them, the flight paths covered. News is running this and nothing else, talk of New York being a target, so passengers are not turning up at JFK and Newark.’

  ‘You get Fisher’s face out there?’

  ‘He won’t get far, his face is all over CNN, listed as working for the cartels, but he was never officially with us – we have that at least. Still, there’ll be some awkward questions asked.’

  ‘This could all be over by tonight,’ I suggested. ‘Cartel seems keen to send men north of the border rather than wait it out. If they had some patience they might win here.’

  ‘Wait … what the fuck … the Saudi Royal Family, their plane was due to land in LAX, an hour from now.’

  ‘Ah … fucking bollocking hell,’ I sighed out, and closed my eyes for a moment.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Always hide a big lie behind a small one. The Royal Family were the target, the rest of it a giant smoke screen. It was a rich Saudi that worked with Saudi Intel to get the Stingers out and on a ship, and to plant the intel that would find its way to me.’

  ‘So this guy wants a change of leadership!’

  ‘He wants it badly it seems.’

  ‘He played you?’

  ‘He knew I’d follow the intel, and draw conclusions and pass the blame, and few would see the link with the Royal Family if ten planes were shot down – theirs being one of them. But I’m a few steps ahead, and a few hours ahead of them, or they would have got the family. Don’t release that theory yet, eh.’

  ‘No shit!’

  ‘I gotta go.’ I called David Finch. ‘Still in the office?’

  ‘Yes, be staying in a hotel tonight, wife is catching a show.’

  ‘The Saudi Royal Family was due to land at LAX in an hour.’

  ‘Christ, they could have been the real target here, the missiles sent by a Saudi with a grudge.’

  ‘You can be sure of it, rest was a giant smoke screen.’

  ‘Do they know?’

  ‘Deputy Chief knows, no one else yet. I can’t make any claims without risking my sources. But…’

  ‘But what?’

  ‘Talk later.’ I called the Ruler of Oman. He was still awake at this late hour.

  ‘Major Wilco?’

  ‘Yes, and the Saudis played you, that captain a plant.’

  ‘They played me?’

  ‘The missiles are moving into place to shoot down planes at LAX airport, the Saudi Royal Family
due to land in an hour.’

  ‘My god. The Stingers originated in Saudi, and that captain gave us the information to pass to you -’

  ‘Knowing exactly what would happen. But I’m a few hours ahead of them, and I got a lucky break.’

  ‘What will you do?’

  ‘Airports are closed, and we’ll try and get the missiles.’

  ‘This captain I have with me?’

  ‘Would have disappeared back across the border after a while,’ I suggested.

  ‘He will not be leaving now,’ the Prince threatened. ‘I don’t like being played.’

  ‘Revenge is mine, says Wilco. Leave it with me.’

  I called Bob Staines. ‘We were played.’

  ‘How so?’

  ‘Real target is LAX, my garden gnome guy confirmed that, and the Saudi Royal Family are due to land there in an hour.’

  ‘And it was a rich Saudi that helped get the Stingers on a ship. What a mess. What’ll you do?’

  ‘Not much I can do, and the Royal Family are safe now.’

  ‘If the Ruler knows the truth he might get the dissidents once and for all,’ Bob suggested.

  ‘If I go public with what I know then my source is in danger.’

  ‘Don’t go public then, ask for an audience.’

  ‘I’ll … think about that.’

  ‘And Car 55 and the teams?’

  ‘That list is suspect now. Can you research the list first?’

  ‘Already doing so, and some actively support al-Qa’eda and some oppose the monarchy and its cosy relationship with America. So some of this lot are definitely the right people.’

  ‘OK, keep working on the list, no one to be dealt with yet. Oh, Maria, hand her a fifty thousand Euro bonus, then we see what she does. See if she runs off.’

  ‘I’ll bet fifty quid she stays, after a good expensive meal, some wine, and time to think about the big outside world.’

  Half an hour later, still at General Quarters, and the Deputy Chief rang, but on a wall phone. ‘They just found Fisher and his co-driver, both shot dead in their jeep, Stingers in the back.’

  ‘Why leave the Stingers behind?’ I wondered out loud.

  ‘Hot potatoes, no one wanted to be caught with them, random roadblocks everywhere.’

  ‘So Weapons Manufacturer’s Deep State are cleaning house and covering their tracks.’

  ‘Jesus, a third deep state?’

  ‘Yes, and one you can’t touch. I’ll try and make contact with them soon, have a quiet chat.’

  ‘Which is a metaphor for…’

  ‘Making friends, not shooting them. Maybe we have a common agenda, just different ways of achieving it. Oh, his co-driver, was he a gang member?’

  ‘No, Caucasian.’

  ‘Interesting,’ I let out.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Cartel is being set-up for the blame here, white contractors north of the border to do the skilled work, ex-military, trained on Stingers. I get the feeling that the missiles will soon be found abandoned.’

  ‘Abandoned?’ he loudly challenged.

  ‘Job is a bust, LAX closed, Royal Family not landing, so the job is a bust, they never wanted to terrorise you.’

  ‘Jesus. I need a fucking drink.’

  ‘I know how you feel.’ Back inside, I told Franks, ‘Job is called off, it’s over now, missiles will be found abandoned, their drivers killed. First jeep was found, its white drivers shot dead, Stingers left in plain sight.’

  ‘It’s over?’ the commander cut in.

  ‘Just a hunch,’ I told him.

  ‘Bit of a fucking leap, more than a hunch...’

  Franks cut in, ‘Wilco’s hunches are often giant leaps and – annoyingly – not usually wrong.’

  ‘So why is it over?’ the commander pressed.

  ‘Airports are closed, others are well protected, roadblocks everywhere. They needed the element of surprise for this to work, and they don’t have the die-hard men keen to see the job done at any cost, lives thrown away.’

  Ten minutes later, and I was pointed towards a CNN segment on a wall-mounted TV, two Stingers found on the coastal highway north from the border. That left just six out there, some in Cancun.

  The Mexican police were soon reporting two men shot dead in a jeep in Cancun, just eight miles from the airport, two Stingers in the back.

  The Deputy Chief called on the wall phone. ‘Two missiles stopped in Cancun near the airport, now six found in California.’

  ‘That leaves just two out there.’

  ‘Wait … FBI got two in a petrol station, jeep abandoned.’

  ‘That’s all of them, so you can update the White House, and get some rest. Your wife must be missing you.’

  ‘How the fuck do we explain them just giving up like that?’

  ‘Airports were closed, roadblocks seen everywhere, they knew they’d not get through.’

  ‘I’ll stick to that bullshit version.’

  Off the phone, the Admiral stepped in. ‘Sir, recommend you stand down from General Quarters.’ He stood looking surprised. I faced the commander. ‘Can you assemble the Press again, I have some good news for them.’

  ‘What good news?’ the Admiral asked.

  I managed a tired smile. ‘All the Stingers are accounted for, sir.’

  The Admiral asked his staff, ‘How far are we off the coast?’

  ‘Forty-five miles, sir.’

  He considered that, and heaved a sigh. ‘Far enough. Turn us west when you can. Stand down General Quarters. And well done, everyone, some reports to write up when you’re rested.’

  I was led down, facemask placed on, and to the same hangar deck, the Press getting ready. When they gave me a hand-chopping motion I stood at the podium. ‘Members of the Press, I can now take the liberty of reporting to you early – and without consulting with the White House – that all of the Stinger missiles that we know about have been accounted for.

  ‘The Mexican, they police found two missiles at Cancun airport a few hours ago. My men recovered or destroyed ten on the Mexican coast south of Tijuana as you know, two were recovered by your special forces in a helicopter assault across the Mexican border east of Mexicali, and the remainder have been found abandoned in California – one fired up at an F18 on the coast down here.

  ‘With the airports closed, and with roadblocks everywhere, they knew they would not get a chance to fire their missiles and so they abandoned their jeeps and the missiles and ran. Some of the drivers seem to have been killed, but I have no details yet.

  ‘I can inform the citizens of Mexico, and of America, that all of the missiles that we knew about have been accounted for, and that the danger has passed. Normal flights can resume, and overfly, there is no evidence to suggest further missiles or terrorist-style attacks on airports.

  ‘I cannot speak for the White House, but I see no reason why the airports should remain closed. Normal flights could resume straight away, to save the disruption, and if there is too much disruption then the cartel gets what it wants – and wins.

  ‘To those British passengers stranded in Cancun, I say – enjoy a cold beer till tomorrow, when your flights should come and fetch you now that the danger has passed.

  ‘I would like to add that the British Government and the British Embassy in Mexico City did all that it could with the resources to hand, and with the information I was supplying in the timeframe we had. I can see no alternate course of action other than that taken by the Government – you cannot plan for a sudden disaster. Thank you, that’s all for now.’

  They fired questions at me as I walked off with my escort, soon back up in the planning room.

  My segment was soon on CNN, and we stood watching on the flag bridge.

  Major Harris noted, ‘Our government will be happy enough, they might let us back in – without Rizzo!’

  Franks noted, ‘A few things left out of your statement.’

  I glanced at him. ‘I’m sure I have no idea what you mean.�
��

  The commander moved his eyes from me to Franks and back, but offered no comment.

  Tinker called. ‘The chat in the cartel is all about who the fuck drove the Stingers north. They don’t know.’

  ‘Ex-CIA contractors, white men, drove them, not cartel men. It was a Deep State ploy to blame the cartel.’

  ‘Ah. Which Deep State, because I’ve lost track?’

  ‘Not the first Deep State, nor FBI Deep State.’

  ‘So … Anon Deep State then.’

  ‘That title works as well as anything else. Any progress with our phone hit at GL4.’

  ‘No, none, just dead ends.’

  ‘That’s a worry.’

  ‘Could have been a drive by.’

  ‘If it was, then they planned an attack. Tell the MPs to stay sharp.’

  ‘They know, and they’re worried. No need to remind them – they sit armed even when they’re fishing.’

  The President was soon on the phone, the desk phone, officers told to hush down. ‘Major Wilco?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘You sure we got all the missiles?’

  ‘My original intel was for twenty-five, sir, and that’s the number of missiles being mentioned as recovered, so I have no intel on further missiles being out there. In the absence of further information we go back to normal life, sir. You can open the airports.’

  ‘You sure the danger has passed?’

  ‘Yes, very sure, but … not on the phone.’

  ‘I don’t like the sound of that.’

  ‘You’d lose some sleep, sir.’

  ‘Maybe we chat soon then.’

  ‘I’m heading for Washington next, sir.’

  ‘Safe flight,’ he quipped.

  Out on the platform I called the Deputy Chief. ‘It’s me. Listen, the cartel, they’re all scratching their heads and wondering just who the fuck drove the Stingers north of the border – it wasn’t them.’

  ‘Who knows that, besides you?’

  ‘It won’t get out from my side,’ I assured him.

  ‘Fisher and his buddy can disappear, bodies swapped, and there are no other bodies, maybe prints.’

  ‘And the serial numbers?’

  ‘Will all match to a batch we sold to Colombia ten years back,’ he assured me.