Wilco- Lone Wolf 20

by Geoff Wolak

‘Didn't want to wake anyone, sir.’

  ‘Are we expecting trouble?’

  ‘Not where you are, sir, but we have signals intel on a small group in Liberia. For now, sir, no mention of that to anyone other than your command staff, absolutely no mention to the locals.’

  ‘Sounds like trouble to me.’

  ‘I can say little more at the moment, sir, so bear with me. But I will need the Chinooks on standby, Pumas as well if they'll loan them to us, extra rations sent to the mine in Liberia.’

  ‘I'll start making plans. Quietly.’

  ‘Oh, sir, is there a British destroyer off the coast?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Alert them I may need their Lynx, active combat role.’

  I called Mike Papa. ‘It's Petrov, I'm at the mine.’

  ‘I have heard of some odd men in the east.’

  ‘We'll be able to move down to you quickly, so don't worry. And we have plenty of men.’ I called David. ‘Has the Cabinet Office said anything?’

  ‘We most definitely don't want Liberia destabilised, we're investing in the oil infrastructure.’

  ‘Update GCHQ, we have movement in the east of Liberia. I'm at the mine. If someone attacks Monrovia we can be there in an hour, and so far we're hiding our intentions here.’

  Libintov called as I stared down at the mine and its white dust, a thought for the murdered lady with the huge boobs. I couldn't even remember her name. ‘I have just heard of six large transports flying overnight, landing in Ivory coast. Men were seen to get off.’

  ‘Thanks, and let me know if there is any other news.’

  I called David. ‘The attack force landed in Ivory Coast overnight. Update the Cabinet Office, we'll have action today or tonight I think.’

  I called back Colonel Thompson. ‘Sir, I'll need those Chinooks soon, and to tell you that we're a few hours away from a coup attempt in Monrovia. Make plans quietly, sir. And alert the Navy.’

  I considered calling Admiral Jacobs, but held off doing so; I wanted the attack to take place first, in case of a leak. I turned to Rocko. ‘Sergeant Major, call in the men, ready to move off soon, we have trouble. I want the regular SAS and SEALs ready to go!’

  A civilian worker or two had heard me, and did not have their happy faces on. But it was too late.

  I could see Haines by the door. ‘Mister Haines! We'll soon have company, we're moving east, you may join us, but I need this place protected as well. Wake up the army here.’

  I took out my map and placed it over the bonnet of a jeep as Echo formed up. To Moran I said, ‘There are no good roads east, but they mostly run north-south, and the east is swamp, so … if the bad boys come from Ivory coast their best bet is north and around and down.’

  ‘That main road down to Monrovia is just five miles east of us here, could walk to it.’

  ‘Question is … will we find them driving down it?’ I called Mike Papa. ‘It's Petrov. You have men watching all the roads?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘There are no good roads from Ivory coast unless they come from the north.’

  ‘I would know, and they would be stopped and fired at. That would not be a very good plan.’

  ‘So they have another plan, a ship maybe.’

  ‘I have men hidden at the port, heavy weapons.’

  ‘Then we wait for a clever plan, because I don't think they will simply try and drive here. Check with all of your people near the borders.’

  Phone down, I said to Moran as we studied the map, ‘Best roads are north, but … the Liberian Army have people watching the borders and the roads, and APC to block them. They tried a ship last time, but an opposed landing would see high casualties.’

  A civilian stepped out to me. ‘Aircraft are coming, your men they said, and to let you know.’

  ‘Thanks.’ I turned. ‘Clear the runway! Aircraft incoming!’

  Moran noted, ‘We're bunched up here.’

  I nodded, ‘Rocko, all teams in the treeline and wait, SAS and SEALS, spread out and get a brew on, we're not going anywhere yet. But don't let them use the huts, we might a nasty surprise coming from the trees.’

  The teams started to move to the treeline, soon the drone of Hercules registering on the breeze, two on approach oddly enough, but I was not expecting more than thirty men. The first aircraft touched down with a blast of white dust, men out and running to the side. Power on, and it took off in hardly a hundred yards, roaring over our heads.

  The second Hercules touched down inside a minute, men out and running. With the drone of the Hercules abating I walked with Moran to greet the teams, finding two SAS troops, two SEALS, one French Echo and two 1st Battalion.

  ‘Where did you all come from?’ I puzzled.

  ‘Mauritania,’ the SAS troop captain told me.

  ‘I asked for the ready teams...’

  ‘Some had just arrived, a day ago. It sounded like you wanted everyone.’

  ‘I do, we have a coup in progress. So the mix-up is good.’ I warned each team about the coup, and that we would be in contact by nightfall, then sent them into the treeline. The two SAS troops were also ‘B’ Squadron, so most all of 'B' Squadron was down here.

  I spent ten minutes with French Echo, questions about Panama fielded, before I greeted the 1st Battalion men, some of who had served with me before.

  The senior civilian staff walked out to me. The manager noted, ‘Major, you have half of NATO here.’ He waited.

  ‘We got a hint of a coup in Monrovia. Now, do you want us here, or to wake up to a new government tomorrow, fighting on the streets?’

  ‘We could have pulled out!’

  ‘We don't have solid intel, or we might have pulled you out. Intel doesn't work that way, and we get warnings that turn out to be nothing, and this coup may happen in a month. So … we're here just in case, and if you lot pulled out every time someone wanted to organise a coup here you'd get no fucking work done.

  ‘I want no mention of this to outsiders, or I start shooting people. We may have a coup today, or next month, or not at all. You understand me, Mister?’

  ‘Shall I tie him up?’ Rocko asked from behind me. ‘Beat him unconscious maybe?’

  ‘Not yet, Sergeant Major, give it an hour and see what he does.’

  The resident captain politely told the manager, ‘Perhaps you should go do some work. I'll keep you informed.’

  The civilians walked off in a huff.

  I faced the captain. ‘How many men do you have?’

  ‘In total, sir, sixty, but they're not here, they're spread around.’

  ‘Call them all in please.’

  ‘Will do, sir.’

  I faced Rocko. ‘I want the senior man of each team.’

  He walked towards the treeline.

  I returned to the map with Moran. ‘So,’ I sighed. ‘How would I do it if I was them....’

  ‘They must have an inside man,’ Moran suggested.

  I nodded as I studied the map. ‘President is paranoid, but his inner circle can be trusted.’

  ‘How about a ship, but not landing in Monrovia, but … five miles away?’

  ‘Shallow water, mangrove swamp, fuck all roads. And even if it was just a mile east, Monrovia has a hundred APC blocking the roads.’

  ‘What if he lands in the east and keeps the east?’

  ‘Good luck to him. Monrovia is 99% of the country, and the oil is west of Monrovia.’

  The senior men finally assembled around me, and I checked that the French spoke English.

  ‘OK, what we have is a coup leader sat in the Congo, but this joker was raised and educated in America, and … he has had some good training. Planes landed in Ivory Coast yesterday, large transports, soldiers getting off, so … that could be five hundred men or more.

  ‘They need to get to Monrovia, because the rest of the country is just shit swamp, but this part west of Monrovia has the oil and the mines. Last time they planned a coup men came by ship, the idea being that they land
at Monrovia docks and storm ashore.

  ‘At the moment there are heavy weapons at the docks, so any ship trying to offload men will be hit. There's an airport in Monrovia they could land at, but that would be suicide, APC there.’

  A manager stepped out. ‘Radar shows large slow aircraft heading this way, low level, no contact.’

  With a puzzled frown I stepped past the assembled men and stared down the runway. Facing Moran, I started laughing, and he joined in.

  ‘What?’ the SEALs lieutenant asked.

  ‘They're going to land here. Get to your teams, spread along, get ready, get men up trees! Go!’ They sprinted off. I turned. ‘Mister Haines, hostile aircraft on approach, an opposed landing. Train your weapons on the runway!’

  I pointed at the manager. ‘Have all civilians down behind something solid. Go!’

  He ran inside. I transmitted, ‘All Echo, get ready for incoming aircraft, soldiers will land. Get some men up the trees, spread along. Five minutes.’

  I led Rocko and Moran to the start of the runway.

  ‘Saves time,’ Rocko noted. ‘Them coming to us.’

  ‘Those poor bastards,’ Moran noted. ‘They were expecting a dozen soldiers here, not three hundred.’

  We could finally hear the drone.

  ‘There.’ Moran pointed east.

  I could soon see a huge An12 on approach, other aircraft behind it, the air full of the buzz of large propeller aircraft. The first An12 lined up, flaps down, and came in smoothly, an engine suddenly bursting out smoke as I heard the cracks. It landed well enough, white smoke now seen from the damaged engine, and the huge beast of a plane rudely came on towards us with a drone that shook our rib cages.

  The cockpit glass shattered on one side, the aircraft turning towards the treeline a little and bumping off the runway before it halted 200yards away, its nose slightly down. The tail ramp was down, the doors open, black soldiers pouring off, but not getting very far, a wing bursting into flame as a second aircraft landed.

  I knelt and aimed, the others copying, and I fired at those men running into the mine and down behind cover. ‘On me!’ I ran to the mine and jumped over a mound and down, soon covered in white dust. Getting position, I fired with the others, but there was plenty of cover for our visitors in the undulating white powder.

  I transmitted, ‘It's Wilco, they're in the mine and hiding! Send the SAS teams to the buildings and behind them then down into the mine.’

  Rounds cracked past me and I ducked.

  ‘Look,’ Moran pointed, and the trailing four aircraft were circling at low level, a hell of a drone created. ‘They won't land.’

  I transmitted, ‘Snipers, aim up and get those aircraft!’ I aimed up with Rocko and pumped out a magazine.

  A burst of smoke, flame seen, and an An12 corkscrewed right towards us – our hearts stopping and our eyes widening - but it landed the other side of the building with a ground-shaking crunch, 2 Squadron lads on the roof diving for cover as a bit of wing flew at them.

  A twang, and my face was hit, Rocko hissing out, his face bloodied.

  A glance up, and the final three aircraft were leaving.

  ‘Wilco!’ came a shout.

  I turned around.Regular SAS were behind the building, on this side. I pointed them down into the mine, and they ran and jumped over the white powder mounds as some of them fired towards those rebels still visible. We had to duck.

  A blast, and Rocko said, ‘That was a grenade, but they can't throw this far.’

  A whoosh, and an RPG hit the building behind us with an almighty blast, the smoke shrouding us for thirty seconds as we ducked.

  I finally peered up to see three huge planes on fire and roaring, flames climbing high. Behind me, the 2 Squadron lads were now pumping out rounds at the rebels in the mine – they had the height, and I could see five of them with Haines, all firing down.

  Looking right, the regulars were now a hundred yards down the mine, behind a mound and firing east.

  I transmitted, ‘Echo, send men east and around, circle them!’ Off the radio, I said, ‘On me,’ and we scrambled up the white dust and ran bent-double past the building and into black smoke, peering through at the burning wreckage of a huge An12, two white huts demolished, all of us now covered in white dust.

  Movement, wounded rebels in the hold, the ramp down. I knelt and fired, the others joining in, magazines swapped, and we kept firing.

  ‘Wilco, you hit?’ came from Haines above me.

  I looked up. ‘What?’

  ‘You hit? You're covered in blood.’

  ‘Scalp ricochet.’

  ‘Keep the uranium ore out the wound.’

  ‘Uranium ore?’ Rocko asked, concerned.

  ‘No, it's silicated limestone.’

  My phone trilled, Mike Papa. I turned and knelt as the others fired. ‘We got reports of strange aircraft.’

  ‘Yes, Mister President, we just shot down three of them, the others flew off. They would have landed here at the mine, taken this place, maybe held hostages. The attack on you has been called off.’

  ‘That is good to know, yes.’

  ‘Got to go.’ Phone away, Rocko was still firing. A blast, and he was on his back, all off us shrouded in smoke.

  I dragged him to the doorway, coughing. ‘You OK?’

  ‘I think so,’ he croaked out.

  I helped him up as Moran continued firing into the burning wreckage. ‘Did you get a piece?’

  ‘Can't feel anything.’ He looked himself over. ‘Seems OK. But you look like shit.’

  ‘You too, face full of blood.’

  ‘I'll still be handsome afterwards.’

  Doc Morten appeared. ‘Get in here!’

  I led Rocko inside, nurses waiting ready, kit laid out. Knelt, they cleaned up our faces, pads on the cuts. I winced. ‘Piece in there.’

  Morten washed the wound and pulled out a shard of metal.’

  Doc Willy appeared. ‘You OK, Boss?’

  ‘I've had worse. Any civvies hurt?’

  ‘No one shouting,’ Doc Willy replied. ‘They were down on the floor in here.’

  ‘This place was built to be tough,’ I told him. ‘Watch the door.’

  He moved past and aimed out, but Mitch and Ginger rushed inside.

  ‘You OK?’ Mitch asked.

  ‘Just a cut. Anyone left out there?’

  ‘They're hiding, hard to get to them.’

  ‘Get below them, in the mine.’ He led Ginger out.

  Rocko gave a loud, ‘Fucking hell, woman!’

  ‘Don't you woman me, Mister, or you'll get a good slap.’

  I smiled. ‘Rocko, be a good patient.’

  After three painful stitches I eased up, Rocko getting two painful stitches. I stepped out dusting myself down, Doc Willy close by, still a few cracks sounding out, the air full of black smoke, and oddly enough there were still a few aircraft engines turning over, a tall tail section in tact and blocking the sun it was so tall.

  I called David Finch. ‘We're at the mine, and we got here just before six heavy transports brought in the invasion force. We shot down three, no survivors, three flew off.’

  ‘Crikey. So the coup has been called off I guess.’

  ‘They may need a few more men. Talk later.’

  I called Harris and gave a sitrep as many of the teams walked in.

  ‘Made a mess here,’ the SEALs the lieutenant noted. ‘So we're blaming you.’

  The wreckage behind the building blew, but it was a small blast.

  ‘RPG,’ I suggested. ‘Slow roasted.’

  Another blast had men ducking.

  The crackle of small arms fire eased and halted, men soon to the top of the mine and peering down, no rebels left alive to worry us.

  The senior managers appeared behind me with the resident captain, that captain traumatised as he took in the wrecked burning planes.

  I stared at them for a moment. ‘OK, so I lied a little. But in fairness, we didn't know whe
re they would land. Anyhow, can you clear up this mess?’

  ‘Take a month and some heavy equipment!’ the main man complained.

  ‘Well you now have a good story to tell over a beer, and the Press will land soon no doubt. Now go check that you have no wounded, and no – you don't need to evacuate from here.’

  I called Max and detailed the story. Thinking, I added, ‘We got a tip-off from the CIA. Get that on Reuters.’

  ‘Should I come down?’

  ‘We'll be here a few days if you can get here in time.’ I put my phone away.

  ‘Did we get a CIA tip-off?’ Moran asked.

  ‘No, but it will piss-off the guy over their sending those men. Let's just say that he used to think of the Americans as his sponsors.’

  ‘He'll be miffed then.’

  I called Libintov. ‘It's Petrov, and I just shot down three An12.’

  ‘My … god, the cost to someone.’

  ‘Ask around, see whose planes they were.’

  ‘I will do, yes.’

  My phone trilled, Mike Papa. ‘Mister President.’

  ‘Planes have landed on roads in the east, soldiers out and blocking roads.’

  ‘Don't send any men, we'll deal with them. Where are they?’

  He detailed two positions for me.

  I led Moran to a jeep and laid out the map again as the smoke wafted, a few pops and cracks as ammo being heated up went off. ‘They landed on roads, here and here, so these two towns are cut off.’

  Morn tapped the map. ‘That one town has a port.’

  A blast had us ducking.

  ‘Yep, so maybe they have a ship with some heavy weapons.’ I called David Finch. ‘A coastal town in the east, Emjolo, have the Navy blockade it. Search any suspect ships. Tell them to be careful, standing General Quarters.’

  ‘They use Action Stations.’

  ‘That's boring. Not even Red Alert?’

  ‘No, that's Star Trek. The original was Beat to Quarters.’

  ‘Well have them Beat to Quarters then. Oh, what was the name of the lady palaeontologist killed down here?’

  ‘Doctor Abrahams?’

  I sighed out. ‘I had forgotten her name.’

  ‘You stay busy, it's easy to forget.’

  ‘Seems disrespectful, to forget.’

  ‘You didn't make the world the way it is.’

  ‘Listen, there are three hundred bodies here, all burnt extra crispy. Get the Red Cross or whoever, body bags, medics, and let's be seen as the caring people we are eh.’