by Geoff Wolak
‘Fishing without a license, bailiff shot him.’
‘Damn right,’ a few men agreed. ‘Our fish.’
I got a brew and sat with Moran, Ginger, Mitch and Doc Willy.
‘More trouble coming?’ Moran asked, none too concerned.
‘Whoever sent that man was being bugged, and another man got there first. So we have friends out there.’
‘Why not just tip us off?’ Doc Willy puzzled.
‘That would have been the simplest idea,’ I agreed. ‘But what was the dead guy going to do, swim? He must have been stood at the edge when he was shot, to fall in. No second prints.’
Mitch put in, ‘He saw the water, wondered what his chances were, and then he was shot.’
‘Guy in the tree was waiting ready,’ Moran noted. ‘Dogs missed him.’
‘That tree is three hundred yards to the water,’ I told them. ‘Dogs would miss him for sure. Patrol route adds another … sixty yards at least.’
Mitch noted, ‘Three hundred yard shot, at night. He’s a pro, the shooter.’
‘Rizzo was asking about bonuses,’ Moran put in.
‘Monday morning,’ I told them. ‘Then we start training for war in Kosovo. You’ll be in deep dark woods, Serbs with dogs after you.’
They laughed.
‘No, seriously.’
‘We will?’ Doc Willy asked. ‘Because I read the book, and I have nightmares.’
‘You did the three-day scenario, so being in Kosovo will be the same,’ I told him. ‘That’s what it’s there for, to feel what I felt.’
I walked to the hangar and spoke to the Intel team, and they now had something to do on a cold Sunday. I warned them about Kosovo, and they would start studying the geopolitics.
The police divers turned up, kit donned, and into the cold water they went as I observed with a few of the Echo lads. Only now I was in my warm sniper outfit, and kitted ready for war. The divers searched, but found no weapon, and the man had no pistol on him.
I exchanged a puzzled look with Rocko.
Rocko asked, ‘What was he going to do, swear at us?’
The divers would return in the morning, when the silt had settled, and try again. They headed off for a hot shower in the empty barracks. And to make a mess on my floor.
David Finch called. ‘How goes the investigation?’
‘It’s a puzzle. Man number one walks to the water’s edge without a weapon, gets shot in the back. Man two climbs down from the tree and walks off, blood sample left behind. Chase up the police forensics.’
‘Mister Kitson is on it now, his area.’
‘The dead man seemed familiar, so I asked for a photo and artists impression - you know – how he might look without a few hours in the cold water.’
I called Bob Staines, Terry answering the phone in French. ‘It’s Wilco.’
‘Right, Boss.’
‘Where’s Bob?’
‘Cooking lessons with The Banker, some castle.’
‘I heard they like cooking. Mention to him we had an attack at GL4, and to see if he can get any DNA databases.’
‘I’ll make a note.’
‘How you settling in?’
‘It’s great, no arseholes to work with.’
‘That’s what we all want in life. Chat soon. Oh, you can ring Tinker and ask for what phone checks have been made, so don't be shy. Tell him I said you could.’
I called GCHQ and asked for a scan of phones used around my base and five miles out, all car plates on the M4 near me. And could they get credit card payments in motorway service stations. They said the police could, and they would ask for it.
Monday morning, and Echo grouped in the briefing room, all in uniform and ready for work, Murphy and his buddy now hear, our regular troop now hear. Swifty was sat in, but would also be in with the Wolves meeting.
At the head table I sat with Moran and Billy, Rocko stood behind us. ‘OK, shut up and settle down.’ I waited. ‘Any injuries, list them for us, but we have nothing on at the moment, so you bunch of lazy holidaymakers can get some training in.
‘Get the kit sorted, clean weapons and check, replenish what you need. OK, we had an intruder over the weekend, fishing without our permission, so someone shot him.’
They laughed.
‘The police will be around today, police divers getting very cold in the murky water. OK, we now have with us Murphy and his mate.’ I pointed at the man. ‘What do they call you?’
‘Name is Terence O’Dowd, sir, but they call me Nappy.’
I waited. ‘I don’t get it.’
‘It’s a brand of nappies where I’m from, sir.’
‘What did you mother call you?’
‘Shithead.’
The guys laughed.
‘From now on you are Terry. Murphy and Terry.’
‘Right, sir.’
Billy shot me a look and shook his head.
‘We also have a new regular troop, led by Stiffy; he once had a morning erection in the Paras, but he's married now so no more erections. Get to know them and their names and moods. They’ve got the years in, did well enough in Panama, no bitching and complaining.’
‘We complained about the bloody smell,’ Stiffy put in, Echo nodding heads.
‘Blame the US Navy,’ I told him.
‘Why can’t we have Hueys?’ Rizzo complained.
‘If they were here, and we had a job in … Borneo, how would they get there, eh? Right, you all met Doc Willy, who didn’t crack in Panama, nor complain. Slider, Rizzo, I want some training sorted for him. We know he can do the medicine, so let’s make a killer out of him.’
Salome walked in, in civvies, and sat.
‘Glad you could join us,’ I told her.
‘Whatever.’
I faced the group. ‘OK, just so that you know, the two girls from 14 Intel, Tiny and Suzy, they did very well in Panama, killed a few people, unearthed some bad boys, so they’re no longer with 14 Intel, we’ve pinched them away and they’ll work for me and for London.
‘You may see them around here, but they won’t be based here often. Tomo, your balls can recover.’
They laughed at him.
‘OK, we have bonuses for most of you, names on the envelopes, and some will get a little more based on the quantity of drugs they destroyed. If you don’t think you got enough, tough shit and fuck off, you’re lucky to get bonuses at all.’
I started to hand out padded jiffy bags, the recipients then leaving the room. The new troop got money, even Billy got some whilst trying to say he did not approve of it.
Salome got a bag, surprised. ‘What is it for?’
‘Your expenses flying to New York.’
She shrugged. ‘Tomsk gave me money.’
I went to take the bag back. ‘Back-off, Mister,’ she growled. ‘Never take money back from a woman.’
The next meeting was the British Wolves, no Americans with us at the moment – they all had leave, Swifty, Robby and Stretch sat facing Sanderson and myself, a dozen men sat behind them.
‘OK, the next conflict you guys fight in might be Kosovo, deep dark woods full of Serbs with dogs. I’ll train you on what to do, I’ve had some experience.’
They smiled.
‘You’ll all get a small bonus for being in Panama, but don’t advertise the fact to anyone. Any injuries, let Mister Sanderson know. Swifty, Robby, Stretch, keep them training, and make sure that they all have two sets of my sniper clothing. Request more if needs be. If we go into Kosovo it will be needed.
‘Swifty, have them live in it for 24hrs, sneaking around the north woods, and we’ll sort some training in the woods soon. Anyone know where the nastiest deep dark woods are to be found?’
Sanderson put in, ‘Germany, the training grounds, miles of it, and many a soldier has gotten lost inside.’
‘Do some research on accommodation, sir, we may go there soon.’
He made a note.
‘Swifty, I want all Wolves to have a sharp knife, easy and fas
t to pull with a wet glove hand. Think about the dogs, and stabbing them to death. A leg position would be best. And they all carry fishing line as standard for trip wires. We will, soon, have first aid training for you all, injecting yourselves with antibiotics.
‘You all read the book, The Ghost, and you may soon be in the same position, so think about what kit you might take.’
I handed out the bonuses, and I finally led Sanderson upstairs, to the Intel meeting, the Brigadier listening in, Tiny sat to one side with Salome. ‘OK, London has warned me that NATO may get involved in Kosovo, and the SAS teams might go in to target artillery as before. We may be involved, and the Wolves, and I'll plan some training to get them ready for deep dark woods.
‘Start studying Kosovo, get the maps, you know what to do. Right, the radio scanners that GCHQ use, I want every Wolf to have one if we go in. Also, the small hand-held scanners to pick-up radio chat, one per man.
‘What GCHQ tells me is that they have a small GPS tracker, one that they fit to a car and then track it. I want all Wolves and Echo lads to have one as standard, so that we know where they are.’
I faced Tinker. ‘Is there a clever computer to monitor them?’
‘We could set one up, yes.’
‘I want it here, and the man responsible, the staff here trained in its use, a parallel at GCHQ. If a Wolf is late reporting in, we get a position fix. And all of the sat phones and GPS trackers go through GCHQ, so that no one else can see where we are. I don't even want the Americans to see us, no one.’
I pointed at Tiny. ‘Susan Knight, known as Tiny, is now on the team, and has proven her worth in tough conditions, and killed a few men. She'll receive spy training, and can then be called upon when we have a dangerous enemy stood in a tux in a cocktail bar.’
They laughed.
‘No, seriously, that's her area. If we need a hotel checked out, she's our girl, not much use in Kosovo. The other girl, Suzy, is still in Panama and developing her skills and local contacts, after which SIS will have a grand total of … one useful agent in Central America.’
They laughed, Sanderson shaking his head at me.
‘OK, try and find out who our dead body was, and who shot him, and why. And put up a sign: no fishing, or we shoot you!’
At 2pm I gathered all of Echo and the Wolves in the hangar, seats brought out. Moran and Billy had been tasked with taking notes, a training document to be created.
Some sat on the seats, senior men, the Wolves standing at the back, all arranged in a large circle, two MPs with dogs behind me.
‘OK, gentlemen, life has a bad way of coming around twice to bite you on the arse. Many years ago I was trapped behind the lines in Bosnia, and soon we'll be going back to a deep dark wood with Serb soldiers and … dogs. Nice, friendly, fluffy little Alsation dogs. Like these.’ I gestured to those behind me.
‘Those of you who got bitten on my three-day, try and imagine five of them trying to tear your throat out. So, deep dark woods, and dogs and Serbs is today's topic.
‘Dogs use movement to see, more than focusing. Their eyes are great, but if you're a long way off and stood still they won't see you. They use their noses, and their ears, and they take direction from the handler.
‘Those of you who went through the regular SAS, like Rizzo, will have done the courses – and forgotten everything. So pay attention.
‘As I stand here talking, my breath is escaping, and it contains small drops of water with my scent on. Some falls to the floor and stays there for a few hours, and a dog can pick up the scent. So if you can hold your breath for an hour – great.
‘You also sweat, and air moves around your skin and clothing as you walk and run, some gets out, and it drops to the floor, lands on bushes and the grass, and the dog can follow your trail.
‘The Americans have a chemical to fool the dogs, but I don't think it works, and you'd need a lot of it. If the wind is blowing, and it's raining, you would need to keep using it – so it's not very practical.
‘What is practical, is a small plastic bottle full of your piss. You find a nasty clump of bushes, and you spray it far. You walk around the bushes and spray a little, you spray it on trees, and the dog will take half an hour to figure out where you went.
‘Rizzo, you're banned from using that technique since it would be cruel to animals.’
They laughed and taunted him.
‘So trick number one, the best trick, is a bottle of piss, or a plastic bag. Trick number two is fishing line. And yes, dogs trip up just like their handlers. You set some low, for the dog, some high for the handler, and best of all – you have a grenade at the end of the string.
‘If you only have one grenade, use it first, then leave string in obvious positions. They'll take ages going around and watching where they're walking.
‘In the early days of the SAS I always carried fishing line, and in Bosnia it made a difference and saved my life. I set trip wires to warn me of men approaching, and trip wires attached to grenades. Once the Serbs knew about that they slowed right up.
‘I want all of you to carry fishing line. Someone remind Billy here to buy a shit load, and no – you can't use it for fishing in the canal. It doesn't need to be strong, twenty pound breaking strain is enough. But always remember, you need a small sharp knife to cut it.
‘If you have a clasp on one end, then at night you wrap it around a tree, walk to the next tree and wrap it around, and so on, all the way around you. In the morning you unwind it and keep it.
‘But let's talk about sleeping habits. You can sleep on the ground or up a tree or in a hammock. If you sleep on the floor, it's good for rounds coming in, artillery and mortars. It's not good for avoiding the dogs.
‘If you sleep up a tree, it's good for avoiding the dogs and the enemy patrols, bad for artillery and mortars and rounds coming in. If you're in a deep dark wood, I would consider a poncho hammock, or being up a tree.
‘If you are up a tree you'll hear the patrol coming in, and you avoid the dogs – and small black bears. Those bears won't attack you unless you disturb them, then they bite – like badgers.
‘If the weather is bad, use a ground position with a top cover, because when the weather is bad the enemy soldiers all fuck of home and can't be bothered to patrol.
‘If there are two of you, or four, then a dog patrol is not an issue, you just kill them. But if your buddy is killed, if you're wounded and alone, then you need to think tactically about losing the men following you.
‘Most of you did the exercise in Catterick, and there we fooled the dogs and pissed off the handlers by going over the barbed wire fences, always a good tactic. The handler has to lift his dog up and over, and after doing that ten times he'll give up and go home for a nice hot cup of tea.
‘You also fooled the dogs with piss sprayed up a tree, and always keep in mind that the piss smells stronger than your body scent. Now, can you hide you body scent? No, but you can keep it down. Every few hours, wash with a strong soap, groin, arse, armpits.
‘If you're sweating, try and get the sweat off, it all helps, but you'll never get 100% of the scent off, not least because you breathe out scent, and a breath mint won't help any.
‘Tarmac roads are useful, but they're not 100%. The handler is not stupid, and he'll run down the road after you. Trick is that bottle of piss. Spray some as you run down the road, it will slow them up.
‘Rivers and streams are also useful, in that you can hide your scent to some degree, but you disturb the water and leave a trail. You also get cold and wet, and if it's winter time you can't afford to lose body heat, especially if you're wounded.
‘If there's a gentle wide river, then yes – go for a long swim, and you'll lose them. You'll also lose some kit and some body heat and maybe drown.
‘One of the best ways to lose the dogs is to use other people. You come across an isolated farm house with people in it, you spray piss on their garden path and front door, go around in a circle without being seen,
then run off.
‘But let's assume that you're in deep dark woods, no roads, no streams, no farm houses. You're wounded and tired. First, you need a plan, a rough idea of which way is safety. Then you zig-zag, never a straight course. You spray the piss, you climb over and under things, and you confound the dog handler because he'll have his dog on a lead.
‘A dog on a lead in deep dark woods is fucking hard work for the handler. You … can climb trees, you have thumbs. Dogs can't climb trees. So you look for fallen logs, branches, you use rope to swing over things, you go hand over hand knowing that the dog won't be able to follow very well.
‘You see a pile of fallen logs, you spray the piss and the dog handlers will think you inside, they'll shout then shoot, and waste time. If you hear them, and you know they're half a mile away, then you can sprint a while in the open.
‘All of you have knives of some sort, and I want you to make sure that you have a knife like a fish gutting knife, thin sharp blade and long.
‘Now, pay attention. I stabbed a few dogs in Bosnia, and they don't die quickly and let go, they keep the pressure on your arm, and afterwards your arm is numb and bruised. With the sniper gear on they won't tear the skin, but you will be in pain and slow to walk.
‘I stabbed one dog ten times, and it died with its jaws still clamped on my arm. No good stabbing it in the abdomen. What a veterinarian told was to stab down between the shoulders, and twist. The spine is severed, the main muscles to the front legs cut and disabled, and it's all over quickly.’
I knelt, the handler bringing in his pooch, and I mimicked the action. ‘Stab down and twist.’ I stood. ‘The first time I was attacked I was sat down, back to a tree. In that position it's hard to stab down, you have to wrestle the dog.
‘The second time I was attacked I had the idea of turning on my torch. It was very dark, dense trees, and with the torch on I could see a pair of eyes, so I shot the dog.
‘If you're in deep dark trees there's no harm in turning on a torch, because if they're close enough to see it you're fucked anyway. In my case, I heard a growl, so I got some notice. Actually, I imagined a demon from hell come to collect me and I shat myself.’
