Wilco- Lone Wolf 20

by Geoff Wolak

  ‘I'll sort it now, but where would we repatriate the bodies to?’

  ‘Some came from the Congo, some from this region, and probably no ID on them. We just need to be seen to be trying.’

  Colonel Mathews called fifteen minutes later. ‘Wilco, we just got the reports from our SEALs, and you're in a fucking war!’

  ‘It was not expected, sir.’ I gave him the detail.

  ‘I'll alert our ships nearby. Wolves are on their way. They had grouped in Arizona and the shrinks chatted to them after Panama. Two quit and three were kicked out.’

  ‘Just as well, sir, get rid of the time wasters.’

  I called Major Harris back at GL4 and give him an update.

  ‘What's the plan here?’ he finally asked.

  ‘We'll need to dislodge those men from the east, so we'll go in on foot, through the swamp.’

  I stepped to Moran. ‘Check the men who got off and were shot, phones and ID cards.’

  He called names and formed a team, the planes still burning, warped aluminium frames now visible, like the bones of a dead whale.

  A Puma set down half an hour later, a colonel and a major stepping down, two MP bodyguards in tow. I saluted as they closed in, the men staring at the wreckage and the charred bodies, and shocked beyond belief.

  ‘I'm … Colonel Thompson, and … buy god, Major, you've made a mess. I was here last week, had a quiet drink in the bar.’

  ‘Might need a sweep-up, yes, sir.’

  A blast had him ducking, and looking worried.

  I suggested, ‘London will send body bags and medics, sir, to do it by the book. Then ... then they can use bulldozers, put the wrecks in the mine.’

  ‘What would have happened if you had arrived here late?’

  ‘The resident SAS and SEALs would have fought the men getting off the planes. Fewer in number, but … they may have repulsed the attack here. As it stands, the last three aircraft landed in the eastern coastal area and have cut two roads. They mean to stay and to fight, sir.’

  ‘We have no men in those areas, French are north of them.’

  I waved at the French Echo troop captain and he walked over, saluting the Colonel. ‘Update your government, rebels soldiers on the coast in the east, they will fight with your soldiers.’

  He stepped away and took out his phone. To the Colonel I said, ‘We'll move east today, or when the rest of the men get here, and go sneak through the swamp.’

  Moran walked up and saluted the Colonel. ‘There's a dead white guy in a plane,’ he told me.

  ‘Fetch him out please.’

  ‘Won't be easy,’ Moran warned. ‘Won't get all of him either.’

  ‘Look for a phone and some ID then. Get Morten on it for finger prints.’

  ‘One arm is OK, rest of him is black.’

  ‘Not pleasant,’ the Colonel noted.

  The Colonel stepped inside and chatted to the civilians. Twenty minutes later he was back out. ‘Oil workers are not happy.’

  ‘If we hadn't been here they'd be prisoners right now, sir, playing Russian Roulette. I think they prefer a few loud bangs to that.’

  ‘Yes, so would most people. What do I need to be doing here?’

  ‘Send spare men, sir, trucks, jeeps, supplies.’

  He flew off back to Freetown, leaving me staring at the arm of a white man poking through warped aluminium struts, Morten getting a sat phone and a wallet, mask and gloves on.

  I flicked through the wallet. He appeared to be a legit mine consultant. The phone worked, so I called it in.

  Ten minutes later, as the body was extracted – less a leg, Miller called.

  ‘Mister Miller, are you up early?’

  ‘It's 7am here.’

  ‘How can I help you today?’

  ‘You repulsed an invasion of Liberia...’

  ‘I did, yes, earning my keep after the clues … led me here.’

  ‘I see. And this story on Reuters?’

  ‘Should piss off your Deep State man, Mgolo, real name of Davidson, raised in the States, US Military, then Deep State.’

  ‘I … have no comment to make on that at the moment, haven't had my coffee yet.’

  ‘We recovered the body of a white man. But I'll make sure that his ID stays hidden.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because that's what friends are for. He was ex-Agency and keeping bad company, now burnt to a crisp.’

  ‘What's the situation on the ground?’

  ‘Three aircraft were shot down here, three landed in the east and the rebels have seized two towns. We'll go kill them all, because that helps to keep the oil flowing, the Western motorists provided with cheap fuel.’

  ‘How long a campaign?’ It was an odd question.

  ‘A week or two.’

  ‘Chat soon, I need a coffee.’

  The Deputy Chief called next. ‘What the hell is this story on Reuters?’

  ‘A warlord called Mgolo, real name Davidson and ex-US military and Deep State, sent his men from the Congo to invade Liberia – his family's ancestral home. I shot down three An12, the remainder landed in the east and have seized land.’

  ‘Why say that he was Deep State?’

  ‘He would have taken over here on behalf of Deep State after the faulty cruise missile killed the President in Monrovia. But … I got a clue handed to me about him.’

  ‘From who?’

  ‘Someone inside Deep State. It led me here.’

  ‘So the left hand is screwing the right hand. They're not the most organised of people.’

  ‘I think … that this project was sidelined after Panama, but that someone saw it as an opportunity to make a buck. Either that, or Mgolo did not like the fact that his project was scrapped. He's been selling blood diamonds to fund his men, and now … now he'll need a bank loan to pay for three An12.’

  ‘They don't come cheap! What'll you do next?’

  ‘Go east and fight in the swamp.’

  I called Bob Staines and updated him, listing our mine engineer's fake ID.

  As the day warmed up I had the teams spread out, men on stag ready, just in case, but I was waiting for the other teams to arrive. I was also considering my options here, and not wanting to get involved in any street fighting.

  But by now those rebel soldiers were in the towns and having a cup of tea with the locals, at least the men who spoke Kru were. The others were probably raping and pillaging right now.

  I called Freetown, the Colonel, and asked that the Chinooks have ropes ready for men to land in the trees, extra Gerry cans of water, helos stacked ready with rations, and that the Chinooks would drop men and supplies before dawn.

  Admiral Jacobs called. ‘Wilco, what do doing on my patch and not calling me?’

  ‘We had to move fast, sir. We also have a leak.’

  ‘A leak? My end?’

  ‘Agency, sir.’

  ‘Jesus.’

  ‘Please don't repeat that, sir. What ships do you have nearby?’

  ‘Just three destroyers.’

  ‘Our Navy has a ship here, and it will blockade the port of Emjolo, if you can assist.’

  ‘Yeah, sure. But what you expecting here?’

  ‘Coup attempt went wrong, we shot down three transports, but three landed in the east of Liberia, men out and now holding two towns. We'll go sneak through the swamp and get rid of those men.’

  ‘I'll update my people.’

  After studying the map, I called over Moran. ‘Here, between the two towns, some high ground.’

  ‘But what's around it? If it's mangrove we'll be going nowhere fast.’

  ‘I'll call in a Lynx and go have a look.’ I made a call to London, and ten minutes later a call came in.

  ‘Major Wilco, it's Captain Davis, HMS Northumberland.’

  ‘Is your Lynx serviceable, sir?’

  ‘Yes, armed and ready, and we're closing on the target town. But what can we expect here?’

  ‘The town has been taken by rebels,
sir, but we might see reinforcements come by ship. You need to stop them for me, I'll be in the swamp attacking that town. Step one, I need your Lynx to the cement mine up-country in Liberia. Do you know it?’

  ‘Yes, it's on the map of military bases.’

  ‘Send the Lynx, sir, I need to go get a look at the target area.’

  ‘Be with you soon.’

  I left Moran in charge, Nicholson and Tomo to fly with me, weapons made safe but re-loaded.

  The navy-grey Lynx buzzed over fifteen minutes later, a circuit before it set down. We clambered aboard over the missile pods, soon sat, headset on.

  ‘Can you hear me?’

  They turned heads. ‘Yes. And what the fuck did you do here? It looks like a battlefield!’

  ‘They tried to land soldiers, for a coup in Monrovia, but the poor bastards crashed and burnt to death.’

  ‘Jesus.’

  ‘Fly towards the town of Emjolo, but a mile inland, past the road which runs north-south then slow down, I need to see the terrain.’

  We lifted off and nosed down. ‘Are we expecting ground fire?’

  ‘Small-arms, yes, missiles unlikely, maybe some RPG, so don't hang about.’

  We were soon approaching Emjolo, just forty miles from the mine, and the pilot warned me. I peered down as we crossed the main and only road, seeing scrub and trees but little water, noticing one inlet that appeared shallow and sandy.

  ‘Slow down and circle please.’

  I peered down at sandy soil with small bushes, a place where men could set down. ‘Set us down here please. Don't fly near the town.’

  We hovered and touched down, scrambling out and running down the slope, the Lynx pulling off. When it fell quiet we climbed back to the round summit, tripping over small bushes, and we stood peering out.

  To the north the land rose to gentle ridges covered in jungle, and from where we stood it appeared to be jungle all around, but I could see patches of sandy soil.

  I called SIS. ‘It's Wilco, note this location, pass it to Major Harris to be sent to Freetown, Chinooks dispatched to bring my men and the other teams to this location.’

  I called Moran and updated him, and he would have Echo spread across two Chinooks, SAS with them, the others to follow.’

  Phone down, Nicholson noted, ‘They heard that Lynx...’

  ‘Hope so, because I'd rather fight in here than in the town.’

  ‘Towns are always a bad idea,’ he noted. ‘But they‘d send a patrol not a hundred men. Right now those men are raping the local women.’

  ‘Most likely. Use you sights, see what you can see.’

  After ten minutes, Nicholson said, ‘There's an inlet or river, man in a canoe fishing, south a mile, nothing else. No smoke from houses or villages.’

  Half an hour later we heard the heavy drone, and we stood tall as the Chinooks came in, waving at them. They banked hard around, slowed, tail ramp down, and set down near us, men out and running down the slope. The second Chinook landed south, men soon out, heavy supplies being carried out.

  Both Chinooks powered away northwest as I walked to the supplies. We had Gerry cans of water, and ration packs.

  I shouted, ‘Take the supplies down into the trees.’ I lugged a heavy Gerry can down. To Moran I said, ‘You're in charge of the camp here, get comfy. Rizzo, take four men, go west slow and steady till you hit the road or you find a hundred men coming at you, should be five miles. Leave the snipers. Call me when you get to the road, or if you see a thirty foot croc.’

  The men loudly taunted Dicky.

  ‘Slider, go east till you hit the road, avoid contact for now, report what you see, five miles just about. Take extra water.’

  They called names and led their teams off after topping up water, drinks taken.

  ‘Sasha, go north a mile or two, have a look around and then back before dark. Rest of you, get some rest, we'll move at night.’

  I had the SAS troop positioned on the east side, in the trees. My own regulars I positioned south. On the high point, I stood with Tomo and Nicholson, Salome joining us with her M4.

  She peered out. ‘We go to them or they come to us?’

  ‘I don't want to go into the town if I don't have to. It's not a big town, but whatever we do they'll claim we hit civilians.’

  Half an hour later the Chinooks were back, men down and out, and now we were a large force. We now had French Echo and 1st Battalion, two extra troops of SAS, all sent into the trees and told to make camp, but to spread out.

  Morten called me. ‘Do we come out there?’

  ‘Yes, but leave 2 Squadron on the roof. Ask the local captain to get more regular army there – leave Rocko in charge.’

  ‘There's a few of them now, and trucks and jeeps arrived, enough to protect this place I think – after they get over the shock, and the smell or burning flesh.’

  The SEALS arrived on the third run, with the medics. I sent them into the trees and to rest till after dark, senior men to be on my radio frequency. I walked around, making sure each senior men was on my frequency, then called them all onto the high ground.

  With the men stood around me, I pointed. ‘High ground is north, ocean is south with rivers and inlets. West and east five miles will get you to a main road - no other roads around here, two towns south of those roads, occupied by the rebels.

  ‘We made a noise landing here, so hopefully they'll come out to play, I don't want to go into the town if we don't have to. After dark we'll send out most of you, east and west, a few left here maybe for supply runs and wounded.

  ‘Medics will split into two teams and follow us, we have a Lynx for casevac, and it has a winch and a basket. We're a large force, so we should be able to deal with the rebels for minimum casualties.

  ‘Plan will be to have a quarter of you cross the road and go south to the town, a quarter this side, both towns. But it will be slow going. As far as I know they only have small arms, maybe RPGs, what they brought on the transports.

  ‘The Navy is blockading the port, so the rebels won't be getting any supplies, and there are no runways, but they did land on a road. Right, check sat phones and radios -’

  ‘Look!’

  We all turned south, a line of four Mi8 moving east to west more than a mile south.

  ‘OK, so they now have some supplies, and we'll need to keep our heads down. They can use those helos to drop men behind us, so … we modify the plan a little.’

  My phone trilled. ‘Major Wilco, it's Captain Davis. We have four helicopters on radar.’

  ‘I was about to call you, sir. Have you got a missile lock?’

  ‘They just dropped below the radar.’

  ‘If they take off, hit them, sir, and have the Lynx try and hit them as well.’

  ‘We're ready, and we'll move closer in.’

  ‘Beat to Quarters, sir.’

  ‘Haven't used that since 1875. Get with it, Major.’

  Smiling, I lowed the phone. Facing the team leaders, I began, ‘Navy will try and shoot down the helos. If not, they can land men, most likely where we're stood because it's shite swamp all around apart from this hill, which is why I chose it.

  ‘1st Battalion, you protect this high ground, don't let them land.’

  Their captain nodded.

  ‘Spread out and get some rest, we move out after dark. And we have water and rations, ask if you need some.’

  They dispersed.

  I asked Moran, ‘Did those Mi8 have missile pods?’

  ‘Too far away to see.’

  Ten minutes later and Nicholson shouted loudly, men running up the slope and getting ready, all eyes peering south. The line of Mi8 were back.

  Nicholson knelt and peered through his sights. ‘No missile pods, doors open, men looking down ... fuck!’

  We heard the blast a few second later, the tail end Mi8 dropping. A second blast, and a second Mi8 dropped. A third blast, and the second Mi8 in line nosed-dived down. The final Mi8 descended quickly under control.r />
  ‘French Echo! Form up!’

  They came running in. I pointed, ‘Mi8 helicopter landed there, two kilometre. Greenie!’

  He came running.

  ‘You can fly an Mi8, so follow French Echo. Go!’

  They ran south and into the trees.

  I pointed at the ‘B’ Squadron troop sergeant. ‘Get your men, go find the wrecks, I want sat phones and ID cards. Go!’

  He called in his team and led them off south, but west compared to French Echo.

  My phone trilled. ‘It's Captain Davis.’

  ‘You hit three, one landed. Good shooting, sir.’

  ‘Thank the computer, we just push buttons.’

  ‘If the last one is salvageable, we'll fly it out, so don't shoot.’

  ‘I'll warn them now.’

  ‘Those missiles, sir, not like sidewinders...’

  ‘Hell no, much larger, longer range. They'll make a mess of a helicopter for sure.’

  ‘Wilco out.’

  I called Harris and gave him the detail before sitting with Moran and the team for a brew, the day warming up.

  ‘They lost three An12 and now three or four Mi8,’ Moran noted. ‘Someone is out of pocket.’

  ‘Those An12 will bankrupt someone,’ I told them, my back to a tree, a tin of meat opened.

  An hour later, a few men sleeping in the heat, my phone trilled. ‘It's Greenie, and we shot the pilots and crewman, I have it running, enough fuel, so what are we doing with this?’

  ‘Fly it up here, then to the town, men in the back shooting down, but it's a recon flight.’

  I walked up the slope and called Captain Davis. ‘Sir, last Mi8 is now in our possession, don't shoot at it.’

  ‘Very well. What'll you do with it?’

  ‘Go upset a few people, sir.’

  I called Slider. ‘We captured an Mi8, don't shoot at it.’

  ‘We heard some bangs south.’

  ‘Navy shot down three Mi8.’

  ‘Expensive for someone.’

  ‘What's the terrain like?’

  ‘Sandy, tight bushes in places, a few streams but they're crystal clear and sandy.’