Wilco- Lone Wolf 20

by Geoff Wolak

  ‘You want me on the team at GL4.’

  ‘Yes, but never talk about torturing someone, or the money. They have rules.’

  ‘Sanderson has no sense of humour.’

  Downstairs, we ate with Tomsk, something of a party atmosphere, Suzy turning up with her local man. Like Tiny, Suzy treated Tomsk like a father figure, a hug given, and not the boss of a dangerous drug gang.

  I spoke to her man, a tall Hispanic with good skin, and he was a fan of mine.

  In the morning I lounged around the pool with Tiny, getting a tan.

  My phone trilled at 11am, Miller. ‘They have the wreckage of that plane, a few bodies found, one being a white man with no fingers, already some odd questions being asked.’

  ‘And are you in a position to have the body incinerated?’

  ‘It will be handed to the Colombian authorities, they have jurisdiction, and the State Department has apologised for shooting down the plane.’

  ‘In which case I can get the body.’

  ‘I was hoping you’d say that.’

  ‘And the others, his team, still out there..?’

  ‘I don’t have a list, but if you come across them then shoot them by all means.’

  ‘A bit cold, seeing as they’re your men…’

  ‘Not my men, I have a team I work with, and there’s no crossover. Things kept separate are things kept safe.’

  ‘A good policy, yes. Oh, the FARC surrendered yesterday.’

  ‘I haven’t heard anything,’ he complained.

  ‘They surrendered to me, but I’ll drag this out, training for the teams. And, soon, your Navy will get a great victory, the voters appeased.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Wait and see.’

  That great victory was on the cards around 4pm, a location given. I had Moran get the Hueys in, and he headed to the location, but would land a mile or two away and sneak in.

  He called back more than an hour later, as it started to get dark. ‘We’re at the location, and there are six men tied to trees, civvies. These are the men you expected?’

  ‘Yes. Check the area for ambushes, be thorough, look for bombs, then pull back and call me. Leave the men alone, don’t let Rizzo steal their watches. And watch your rear, it could be a trick.’

  I called ship. ‘It’s Wilco. I need SEALs for some human asset retrieval. Note this location. Target time is one hour. My men are on the ground nearby, so have the SEAL leader call me.’

  Katowski called back ten minutes later. ‘Major, we have a lieutenant with us now, handing you over.’

  ‘This is Lieutenant O’Hearne.’

  I had to keep in mind how high up a Navy lieutenant was. This guy could be forty years old.

  ‘Well, Lieutenant, this is career make or break time for you.’

  ‘Why’d you say that?’

  ‘Because this is CIA time. When you land you’ll find a few men tied to trees. You’ll extract them, but report them captured, a correct report to Admiral Mulloy only. Get him to call me.’

  ‘So we make the folks back home think we caught these men.’

  ‘You do, my men in the trees with some CIA chaps. Warn your men. The CIA already caught these men, but you get the medal. Understand?’

  ‘I understand, yes.’

  ‘Good hunting.’

  Moran called back an hour later. ‘We searched around, no one here, and we have pairs covering all the angles.’

  ‘I’ll send the SEALs, you cover them.’

  ‘Rizzo did get a guy’s watch.’

  I laughed, and called ship. ‘This is Wilco, mission tasking for the SEALS. Note this coordinates.’ I gave them the coordinates and they read them back. ‘You will land and extract multiple prisoners, for return to the States to stand trial, have JAG officers standby as well as Corpsmen to check over the prisoners. CIA teams are in the bushes, but this is your show, you get the credit.’

  ‘We get the credit?’

  ‘Yes, get Admiral Mulloy to call me after the successful mission is complete.’

  Moran called me twenty minutes later, Seahawks down, top-cover above, prisoners grabbed and removed, the helos departing.

  I asked him, ‘How far out are you?’

  ‘Ten miles or more.’

  ‘Walk back in slow, have a sniff around, but avoid contact if you can. And be careful.’

  ‘Moving off now.’

  Admiral Mulloy called. ‘Major, what’s the story with these prisoners?’

  ‘They’re senior FARC men, sir, involved with the cruise missiles. CIA team had been tracking them, and with my men we grabbed them, but you get the credit. We can’t mention the CIA team, their cover could be blown.’

  ‘I understand. OK, we’ll claim the credit, which I have no issues with whatsoever.’

  I laughed. ‘Milk it, sir.’

  Moran was back on twenty minutes later. ‘We stumbled across a team, trucks here, and heat-seeking missiles. They’re observing a hilltop.’

  ‘Would you say that it was the kind of hilltop you would have chosen for a helo extraction?’

  ‘The only suitable one around here.’

  ‘Capture the men, tie them up, get phones, and I’ll get Hueys to you, the men to be dropped to me up north. Move in slow in case they have hidden positions.’

  I called ship. ‘It’s Wilco, and we have real-time human intel of men with heat-seeking missiles south of the border area. Warn all fixed and rotary wing now, standby a bombing mission, target time is thirty minutes.’

  I had Big Sasha call Tomsk at the hotel, and he called me back. I told him, ‘Contact that FARC man we spoke to, ask why there are men with heat-seeking missiles setting traps.’

  ‘They tricked us?’

  ‘Maybe they have groups operating outside the usual command structures. Assume he is on the level, but pressure him’

  ‘I pressure him, yes,’ he warned.

  I had a look at the map, and it was the obvious extraction point. I called ship and gave the location.

  Moran called back, out of breath. ‘Someone is screwing with us here, we just sprung a trap. Tomo and Nicholson got up a tree, got a whiff of cigarette smoke and spotted the ambush team in time.’

  ‘Any wounded?’

  ‘A few ricochet, some blood, some stitches needed, but it was close, they almost had our backs. And we killed or wounded the missile men, who fought better than these FARC wankers.’

  ‘The ambush team, I want their ID and phones, they’re the important men. You have a camera?’

  ‘Yeah, from La Ninga, some film left.’

  ‘I want their faces. Get out of there in ten minutes, Americans will bomb.’

  ‘We were going to blow the missiles -’

  ‘Don’t, but start a fire. Is there a truck?’

  ‘Yeah, three of them.’

  ‘Set the fires, and get going. Work fast.’

  I called ship. ‘Standby my next call, target will have fires lit nearby. Missile operators have been neutralised, no missile threat from location one, but great caution is needed here.’

  Moran called back, out of breath still, ‘We’re running north.’

  ‘Be careful, could be other traps set for you. Zig-zag, and have the teams a hundred yards apart.’ I called ship. ‘This is Wilco, bomb when ready, my men are north of the target and moving away.’

  Moran called back fifteen minutes later. ‘We can see the flashes, hear the bombs, flares dropping like it’s a fucking firework display. The Yanks have dropped ten bombs already. I had the number for GL4, so they gave me the number to call to trace phones, so I called from two sat phones.’

  ‘Good work.’

  ‘Got their faces as well. They were local men, but they had dollars. One had a Police Commando ID.’

  ‘That’s naughty.’

  I called Tomsk. ‘Call your contact who grabbed our white man in Bogota, offer good money, find out who hired Colombian police commandos to operate near the border with heat-seeking
missiles. Offer a great deal of money, we still have a problem here, still someone trying to kill us.’

  I called Miller’s contact number, and he called back as I sat down to eat with Tiny. ‘Mister Miller, we have a problem.’

  ‘Another one?’

  ‘Yes, another one. Men with heat-seeking missiles on the border, and the target was Echo. They had a clear shot of your Navy SEALs and ignored them, waiting for my men to board helicopters. And that ambush team, they had another ambush team hidden to see if anyone would attack the missile ambush team.’

  ‘That … all sounds well beyond the abilities of the FARC.’

  ‘It does, doesn’t it. Any clues?’

  ‘Still some people out there, friends of Raywood.’

  ‘Professional friends, his team maybe. And still someone from above pulling their strings.’

  ‘I’ve already reported the issue, little more I can do.’

  ‘Mister Miller, if they succeed in killing my men I’ll follow them back to Washington and go public with what I know. Why don’t you mention that to your boss. And Mister Miller, my government has all the evidence, all the forensics, a very thick file.’

  ‘You confide in them, about everything?’

  ‘Certain key individuals, just in case. And I think we’re getting close to … just in case. From where I’m sat, Deep State just tried to wipe out Echo Detachment. I can understand people trying to shoot at me, but does anyone in Deep State want to see an end to my team doing what we do?’

  ‘No, definitely not.’

  ‘And the Joint Chiefs would be mad about it, I guess, if a file landed on their desks.’

  After a pause, came, ‘Yes, they would, they all love what you’re doing for us.’

  ‘So, Mister Miller, time to talk to your boss again before you read about yourself in the New York Post.’

  I ate with Tiny, but I was distracted, and worried, the pressure building. I checked my watch.

  Miller called back. ‘Senator Phillson just got his head blown off, outside a restaurant in Washington. From what the police describe, he was hit with a fifty cal, blood spatter across twenty yards and fifty guests.’

  ‘Is someone cleaning house?’

  ‘If they are, then it was not my team, and it was very loud and very messy. The investigation will be deep.’

  ‘Pity about that.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I mean, if people dig into Phillson, they may unearth something they don’t like, and something you don’t like.’

  ‘Well, yes, could be an issue.’

  ‘Perhaps you could find a mentally unbalanced man with a grudge against Phillson.’

  ‘Well … maybe. Oh, side note here on my desk. Raywood’s mother was a cocaine addict, took her own life when he was ten years old. He’s on record as hating drug users.’

  ‘Ah, so he wouldn’t be averse to killing them all off, I guess.’

  ‘It may explain the odd behaviour, to some degree.’ After a pause came, ‘If your team killed Phillson, would you tell me?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘In this game, we need to be able to trust each other.’

  ‘Mister Miller, the man in the next cubicle to you, the guy you chat to around the water cooler, is trying hard to kill me and my team. Why the fuck would I trust you?’

  After a long pause came, ‘I hope to get that trust back.’

  ‘Go earn it, and clean house.’ I ended the call.

  Tinker called.

  ‘You up late?’ I asked.

  ‘Yeah, but exited. We matched the phones to a physical point, and matched phones used nearby to Bogota and linked in a pattern. We have a big fish sat in Bogota.’

  ‘Give me the address.’

  He read it out. ‘It’s an expensive villa on a hill overlooking the city.’

  Tomsk returned from the hotel a few minutes later. ‘I have the police chief looking for who was at the border. He’s keen to make some money, and the Americans will pay for that plane shot down. The police get the bodies soon.’

  ‘Make sure that the white man is incinerated straight away,’ I warned.

  He nodded, seeming tired.

  I handed him the address. ‘Get back onto the police chief, because a main player is at that address, the man behind the heat-seeking missiles.’

  ‘This time, no planes, they make him talk their end. I want some answers from these bastards!’ He gave instructions to a manager.

  Tiny cheered him up, and we sat down together, a manager soon appearing. ‘Sir, that address, it’s a minister in the Colombian Government.’

  I exchanged a look with Tomsk.

  Tomsk finally turned to the man. ‘The price is now five million dollars.’

  The man withdrew.

  ‘It makes sense,’ I told him. ‘Someone in the government helping them.’

  ‘Always,’ he said with a sigh.

  ‘Some news from America. Senator Phillson, rumoured to be the boss of the white man with no fingers, got his head blown off, a bit of a mess made.’

  ‘Your people?’

  ‘My people wouldn’t harm a fly, you know that.’

  ‘One less shit out there,’ Tomsk noted.

  Past midnight, Tomsk took a call, the Colombian Minister now hung up naked, and I guessed that he was uncomfortable in that position, and not used to it at all.

  In the morning Miller called early. ‘Phillson was killed with a long-casing Teflon round.’

  ‘Oh dear, I hope no will think I did it.’

  ‘Unlikely, when you’re giving interviews on CNN a long way off. Besides, no one would consider you had a reason.’

  ‘Apart from you, and the men organising the heat-seeking missiles of course.’

  ‘I think they may now be … worried.’

  The Deputy Chief called next. ‘Senator Phillson.’

  ‘What about him?’

  ‘Two things. One, he was hit with a long-casing Teflon round fired from 500yards off, and two – I had suspicions about the bad company he was keeping. We’re not allowed to investigate senators, or generally allowed to operate on US soil, but we had our suspicions.’

  ‘If I was you, I would … try and confound the investigation into who Phillson may have been dealing with. I think that maybe some of your ex-staff would show up, and then … well … you’d get some shit.’

  ‘We would.’ He sighed. ‘So I cover up a mess, is that what you’re hinting at.’

  ‘You had suspicions about him, and you were correct, and he has cocaine on his fingers, laced with Lucinda plant.’

  ‘Jesus.’

  ‘So … do what you think is best.’

  Salome called from New York. ‘I see on the news about Senator Phillson.’

  ‘Yes, a sad passing. Take a holiday, visit friends.’

  ‘I do, yes, some shopping. But I came, so … you still owe me.’

  I laughed. ‘I still owe you. Even though I gave you the intel as part of the deal...’

  ‘We’re even then. Sixty-forty.’

  I called Bob Staines. ‘Hey Bob, how goes the travel industry?’

  ‘Our friend is back across the Canadian border, all safe and well, his rifle in a very deep lake, no evidence left behind apart from the fingerprints of Lee Harvey Oswald painstaking re-created by an expert and placed on cartridge casings, with those of J Edgar Hoover.’

  ‘Bob, that was mean, that will confuse the police.’

  ‘I would think so, yes. They really should have a fence up with Canada.’

  ‘They should. But at least I had a section of the Mexican border laid with barbed wire. Ten miles.’

  ‘Ten miles. That’ll deter people, yes. Oh, tainted cocaine found in several European capitals. Panic is spreading.’

  ‘Perhaps they’ll give up harmful cocaine and stick to harmful alcohol instead. But both damage your liver.’

  ‘Indeed, and did you know that Scotland has the highest incidence of kidney failure due to alcohol?’r />
  ‘I would have bet good money on it.’

  Finding CNN on the TV, Tiny and I sat and watched as I rubbed her feet, the story of the FARC leadership being captured now mainlining.

  David Finch called. ‘These FARC chaps that were captured…’

  ‘I struck a deal with FARC leadership after they surrendered, the men to be handed over.’

  ‘So they were not operating with the consent of the leadership.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘And what will they say on the stand?’

  ‘Their families are being held by the FARC.’

  ‘Ah, so they’ll say whatever we want them to say. Listen, Navy is offshore if you can use them.’

  ‘I’ll try, but the shooting has ended.’

  ‘And talking of shooting, any take on the late Senator Phillson?’

  ‘Someone sending a message, a long-casing round used, as with that Saudi.’

  ‘No clues?’

  ‘No, and I doubt they’ll find any evidence.’

  At 11am Tomsk’s managers took a call, and wrote down the detail at length.

  Our Colombian minister had been working with Raywood for two years, and was in touch with the Medellin Cartel – who had introduced them. The minister, along with the police, assisted the cartel, which came as no shock to any of us; that had been going on for decades.

  The minister knew little about tainted drugs, or cruise missiles, but had helped Raywood, a.k.a Bannister, move trucks around and across borders and on and off ships. The heat-seeking missiles came by ship, he did not know where from, and his instructions came by phone, number withheld, an American who spoke Spanish with a Colombian accent.

  Whoever had been using the minister was cautious and careful, a real pro, but Raywood had met the minister many times, less of a pro. I was now certain that someone sat between Raywood and Phillson, the real Zulu, since neither were good enough to operate at this level.

  I called Bob Staines. ‘Terotski gave us two men, so maybe he wanted to give us more. Have someone sent to his former home in Canada, and to look for hidden messages in Russian. And go back through those contracts, look to see who else he gave up.’

  ‘I’ll have a team on it, and Terry saves me time now.’

  I gave him the detail of the Colombian minister.