Wilco- Lone Wolf 20

by Geoff Wolak

  I called Rizzo and warned him, soon hearing the loud drone of the Mi8 coming in. ‘My snipers to me.’

  When the Mi8 touched down, French Echo jumping down, I had my snipers put aboard.

  ‘Wilco, you hear me?’ crackled over the radio; Greenie.

  ‘Yeah. Did you overload this with French Echo in the back?’

  ‘Might have done yeah, but I'm not filling in the log book.’

  ‘Fly to the town, shoot up rebel soldiers, come north up the road, have a good look, same for the town east ten miles. Use the coast to navigate.’

  I moved back and waved them off, the drone rattling my brain, and Greenie swung the big beast around and flew south.

  My phone trilled just as I sat down. ‘It's Rizzo, and there's a small camp of soldiers, say fifty odd.’

  ‘Next to the road?’

  ‘No, no sign of the road.’

  ‘I'll call you back.’ I called Mike Papa. ‘Mister President, we just shot down three Mi8 helicopters, they were taking men and supplies to Emjolo.’

  ‘They are well funded...’

  ‘Blood diamonds, yes. Listen, do you have army bases near here, in the trees?’

  ‘No, the town garrison is on the river at the port. I spoke to them and the APC were destroyed by RPGs, many men fled into the jungle.’

  ‘That jungle camp was not created today...’

  ‘An old camp maybe, but not my men.’

  ‘Very well, we'll attack them.’

  I called Rizzo. ‘The men in that camp are not Liberian Army. Get a position fix to Major Harris for the Royal Navy, a Lynx can hit it. What are those soldiers doing?’

  ‘Sat around waiting, working on some trucks and jeeps. They have 105mm on some jeeps.’

  ‘If the Lynx attacks, snipe at them, but don't get close. Then get to the road.’

  Phone down, Moran asked, ‘What was that?’

  ‘Rizzo found a camp, but it's not regular Liberian Army.’

  ‘Did they plan ahead, the rebels?’

  ‘I don't think they built a camp without being seen, they'd need lorries for the huts. And the trucks and jeeps there came down the north road, so … how did they get past the roadblocks?’

  ‘Paid off someone,’ Ginger suggested.

  ‘You can't pay off someone … when that someone knows you'll kill them later and rape your wife.’

  Sasha called ten minutes later. ‘We are north two miles, and there's a road, a dirt track, a bulldozer on it.’

  ‘Ah, that's naughty. Get a closer look for me, no risks.’ Phone down, I told them, ‘Someone created a road through here, with bulldozers.’

  ‘Would take a week,’ Moran noted. ‘Or a month.’

  ‘Yeah, but who would see them and report it,’ I posed.

  ‘They could move men in behind us,’ Moran noted.

  ‘If they were any good in the bush,’ I countered with.

  Ten minutes later we heard the Mi8 fly over and east.

  My phone trilled, Sasha. ‘We see two bulldozers, men making the track better.’

  ‘Any trucks moving?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Can you drive a bulldozer?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Kill the drivers, and damage that track so that no one can use it, then destroy the bulldozers.’

  ‘I have some fun, no.’

  I told my team, ‘Big Kid Sasha will do a little DIY road damage with the bulldozers up there.’

  ‘Tomo can drive one,’ Salome put in.

  ‘He can?’ Ginger puzzled.

  ‘He was brick laying man, then bulldozer man, after school. Then he joined army.’

  ‘Christ,’ Moran began. ‘Imagine buying a house down in Newport that Tomo built.’

  We all smiled.

  Doc Willy put in, ‘I can play a cello. Should it be needed here.’

  We laughed.

  ‘I play piano,’ Salome offered. ‘We have duet.’

  ‘I once swam the English Channel,’ I put in.

  ‘You did?’ Doc Willy asked. ‘My brother was going to attempt it.’

  ‘I practised in a canal in Cambridgeshire. It was a mile long, and I went up and down, twenty miles. Then fell sick. The people that were practising with me in Dover were all ladies over sixty.’

  My phone trilled fifteen minutes later. ‘It's Rizzo, and the Lynx battered that camp, four missiles, and we shot who we could, rest ran off. But listen, I got two good jeeps here, GPMG fitted and 105mm...’

  ‘Yes, use them, drive to the road. Get the stragglers, do a recon. And destroy that camp.’

  Phone down, I told Moran, ‘Rizzo has two jeeps, GPMG and 105mm.’

  ‘Shame to waste them.’

  My phone trilled. ‘It's Captain Davis, how did my Lynx do?’

  ‘Four good hits, camp damaged or destroyed, my men are mopping up.’

  ‘We have that Mi8 on radar...’

  ‘It has my men inside, sir.’

  ‘We have another contact, east five miles, heading your way.’

  ‘I'll call you back.’ I called Nicholson.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘You hear me?’

  ‘Just about.’

  ‘Hostile helicopter, coming from the east, five miles out. Find it and shoot it down!’

  ‘OK.’

  I rushed up the hill, others following, and I peered southeast, not seeing anything. We finally heard a faint distant drone.

  ‘There!’ Moran pointed.

  I could just make out a helicopter, a second moving up to it. They flew side by side for ten seconds, the helicopter furthest away then dropping. The second helicopter came towards us, but as it closed it started to wobble and spin.

  ‘It's in trouble!’ Moran shouted.

  ‘Get off the high ground!’ I shouted, men running down. I ran south so that I could observe it. ‘Medics!’

  The Mi8 came in sideways, dropped and span, two men thrown out, and it landed hard two hundred yards south of me. We ran.

  The scrub was low and I found sandy tracks, getting to the smouldering Mi8 in just thirty seconds. Nicholson was sat off to my right.

  ‘You alive?’

  ‘A bit sore.’

  ‘Tomo!’

  ‘Here.’

  I ran left, finding him with a face full of blood, soon darting to the stricken helo. Greenie jumped down and eased Swan out. I grabbed Swan's arm and lifted him, walking him away from the helo as many men ran in to assist.

  ‘Get the weapons!’ I shouted over my shoulder. ‘What happened?’ I asked Greenie, his nose bleeding.

  ‘Something broke, I heard it. And that's a thirty year old bird.’ He wiped blood from his nose.

  We handed Swan to Morten, his eyes closed. ‘Swan, you hear me?’

  ‘Yeah, Boss.’

  ‘Anything broken?’

  ‘Not sure.’

  Morten lay him down and tested limbs, a few winces coming, but nothing was broken.

  ‘Get him up the hill,’ I told the men. I turned. ‘Mouri, you alive?’

  ‘I‘m OK, Skipper.’ He presented a bloody face. ‘Just landed a bit hard.’

  ‘Get away from the helo!’ I shouted, and we all moved north as it started to issue smoke.

  Back at the camp I waited as Morten and his team checked over my snipers and Greenie. He finally said, ‘A few bloody noses, some bruising and pains, but nothing is broken, no concussion.’

  ‘They can stay here and mind the camp.’ I knelt next to Greenie. ‘What did you see?’

  Sounding nasal, he began, ‘Flew over that town west, small port there, some burning APC, some bodies. We shot-up men on the road, jeeps manning a roadblock. A mile north and there's no one. East we found the other town, fifty rebels there, we shot a few, road is clear.’

  ‘How big is the town west?’

  ‘Two miles square. Would take a day to clear it. Other town is half the size.’

  My phone trilled. ‘It's Sasha. I cut up the road like a naughty boy and we
set fire to the bulldozer, now we have company, six trucks, many soldiers.’

  ‘Snipe and pull back. I‘m sending men.’ Off the phone I shouted, ‘SEALs, form up, French Echo, my regulars.’

  I walked to the north side of the small hill as they formed up ready. I pointed at Stiffy. ‘You lead, north double-time, follow Sasha's tracks, get him on the radio when you see a road cut out the dirt. We have six trucks full of soldiers. Go!’

  They rushed off north.

  I transmitted, ‘All teams, we have a hundred soldiers on foot, two miles north. Get ready.’

  Rizzo called. ‘Can't see anyone, and we drove down towards the town, where they have a roadblock, so we turned around.’

  ‘Go north past where you joined the road, on a bit and there's a dirt track going east. Follow it to the action, get Sasha on the radio. Go fast.’

  ‘We're moving north now anyhow like.’

  ‘Great, like. Wilco out.’

  I called Sasha. ‘Rizzo is driving towards you from the west, don't shoot him. Men coming up from south, but they'll take twenty minutes at least.’

  ‘They are out the trucks, down and shooting our way but can't see us. We got the man in charge.’

  ‘Stay down, like.’

  ‘Like what?’

  Smiling, I cut the call and recalled the number for HMS Northumberland as I stared north over the trees.

  ‘Duty Officer.’

  ‘It's Wilco. Is your Lynx ready to fly?’

  ‘Re-arming now.’

  ‘They fly to the same camp, on a mile, dirt track going east, down the track to burning vehicles, aim at green army trucks. Friendly jeeps used by my men to the west of the smoke, my men in the trees south. Got that?’

  ‘Yes, got all that, I'll update operations now.’

  I stood and stared north, a waste of time given the distance, but I could just see the smoke column.

  The Lynx was heard but not seen fifteen minutes later.

  Sasha called. ‘The helicopter hit the trucks, all on fire now, and Rizzo is on the high ground west of us, firing. He has GPMG.’

  ‘Teams moving up behind you, be with you soon.’

  Moran appeared alongside me, a glance north. ‘What they doing?’

  ‘Lynx hit the trucks, so the rebels are walking home. Rizzo has a GPMG or two trained on them.’

  ‘A bit lame so far. Landing at that mine would have been a good move though, lots of hostages.’

  ‘He had a plan, but we spoilt it, and right now the owner of those planes and helos is asking for money that our guy doesn't have. No more credit from the bank.’

  Bob Staines called. ‘Your mine engineer, he tracks back to a Belgian mercenary.’

  ‘Plenty of them around here. Look for links to America, but he could have just been the hired help. Look at the man's childhood, because maybe he has a backstory.’

  ‘I'll keep digging.’

  ‘Ask Leon if anyone needs a loan for three lost An12 and four lost Mi8.’

  ‘I'll call him now, because someone will be out of pocket for a very large sum.’

  Sasha called ten minutes later. ‘The teams are here, they spread out and move up slow.’

  ‘Let me know about any wounded.’

  ‘I think many of the blacks run off down the track already.’

  Phone down, I faced Moran. ‘This guy was supposed to have some good boys working for him, so where are they?’

  ‘In the town maybe, pillaging.’

  As we started to lose the light I recalled the teams north, a scrape picked up from a wounded man hidden in the bush, and one of the SEALs had a large splinter in him.

  When they arrived, led by Sasha, I had Morten look at the scrape and the splinter.

  Rizzo walked in. ‘You abandoned the jeeps?’ I asked.

  He took off his cap and wiped his brow. ‘No ammo left, no fuel.’

  ‘You lead us off soon, west, same way.’ I called Slider. ‘Where are you?’

  ‘Observing the road, some civvy traffic, a few green trucks and jeeps.’

  ‘Teams will join you, then you close in on the town at dawn and snipe, have a good look first. Rotate the rest.’

  I stepped to the medics area, many men sat around. ‘Tomo, you OK?’

  ‘I'm good to go, just a bit sore.’

  ‘Nicholson?’

  ‘I can walk and talk and shoot, but don't enter me into any beauty contests.’

  ‘Swan?’ I asked with a smile.

  ‘I can keep up and do something … if it's not too hard.’

  ‘Mouri?’

  ‘Just my nose, Skipper.’

  ‘Greenie?’

  ‘Just my face, rest is OK. So let's avoid the disco in that town.’

  ‘Get ready to move out then. Mister Morten, how's that scrape?’

  ‘It's under the hair, so he'd not get a skin graft anyhow. And the splinter is out, stitch in.’

  ‘Can they walk with us?’

  ‘Yes. I'll watch for infection if we're here for a few days.’

  I transmitted, ‘All teams form up ready to move out. French Echo, 1st Battalion, Stiffy, you go east to find Slider, get him on the radio or the phone. Slow and steady. Stiffy, you lead. Move out when ready.’

  I observed from the high ground as they formed up and moved off, four medics sent along behind Stiffy. Back down on the west side, teams were forming up. ‘Rizzo, you at the front, Echo behind, then the medics, then the SAS teams, then the SEALs. Top up your water, have a drink, leave the heavy cans here, top up rations but there are shops in the town and I have dollars.’

  Ten minutes later Rizzo started off, the light gone.

  I transmitted, ‘Headcount your teams, no one left behind having a shit.’

  I led off Moran, Mitch and Ginger, Salome and Doc Willy. Ahead of me was Rizzo and Dicky, Monster and Parker – easy to tell which one was Monster. ‘Monster, even from back here you look like a fucking Gorilla stuffed into a uniform.’

  The men laughed as Monster protested his waist size.

  Rizzo managed to follow his own previous trail, Moran complaining that Rizzo had left such a trail. We soon adopted an animal track, Moran complaining that Rizzo had followed such a track earlier.

  Just under two hours later we came across the smouldering camp in the dark and slowly skirted around it, half an hour to the road. Rizzo adopted the left side of the road, inside the treeline, and we plodded slowly south, ducking whenever a vehicle came past, a few waterlogged ditches to avoid in the dark.

  Reaching a ramshackle wooden cafe, we had to break left and go around, dogs barking at us. A mile on and we found twenty bodies at the roadside, civvies, women as well as men. The bodies were not smelling yet, so they had been killed today.

  Moran noted, ‘So much for the local hearts and minds.’

  As the orange street lights of the town appeared in the distance we split up, the American teams sent across the road in pairs, the area dark enough to get across unseen, no roadblocks visible.

  With the SEALs across the road we moved south slowly as two teams parallel, soon to the first roadblock, ten men sat around with thumbs up arses, one using his rifle like a golf club to hit stones.

  ‘Silencers on.’

  I clipped on my silencer as the quiet clicks came from behind me. ‘Tiller and Brace, Murphy and Terry, up here.’

  They moved up, just black blobs.

  I whispered, ‘Murphy, Terry, men on the right. Tiller and Brace, men in the left. Moran, Ginger, centre area. Standby.’ I adopted a tree and aimed. ‘Three … two … one … fire.’ I hit a man in the chest and knocked him back. Ten quiet cracks, and it was all over. A dog barked, Murphy silencing it.

  ‘Murphy, don't eat that dog.’

  Quiet laughter rippled as I led them out at a sprint and to the bodies, soon dragging them off, their rifles thrown into the bushes. I could see two SEALs knelt and aiming into the town ready. We were soon back in the trees and moving south.

  Moran sni
ffed. ‘What's that?’

  ‘Petrol,’ I suggested.

  ‘Where is it?’

  We walked on, the smell all around.

  ‘Murphy, Terry, forwards, check these houses.’

  They ran to the houses and peered in, soon running back. ‘There's barrels in them houses, Boss.’

  ‘People inside?’

  ‘Not live ones, some bodies.’

  I transmitted, ‘Pull back, quickly. SEALs, you on?’

  ‘Go ahead.’

  ‘There are houses here full of petrol. Pull back a bit.’

  ‘Moving back sharpish.’

  Back beyond the roadblock I said to Murphy, ‘You remember where the barrels were?’

  ‘Yeah, kinda.’

  ‘Try and hit them then, Davey Crockett.’

  He moved around a jeep and knelt, took aim and fired three times, night turning to day, a second flash, a third, and this part of town was well alight.

  I transmitted, ‘SEALS, go deeper into the trees and south before you get a suntan here.’ Off the radio I hissed, ‘On me!’ and led them down a track a hundred yards east then south into the trees, the light from the fires throwing shadows around the tops of the trees.

  Two hundred yards down that track I found a shack, empty, and climbed up, the roof creaking and moving. From up here I could see soldiers peering at the fire, a hundred of them.

  ‘Wilco to SEALS, one hundred soldiers, fifty-sixty yards south of the fires. Skirt around them.’

  ‘Roger that.’

  The noise built, the shack moving sides and slowly lowering me to the floor as it folded like a cardboard box.

  ‘That was some poor bastard's house,’ Moran complained as men laughed quietly.

  Safely down from the roof, I pressed on south, finding a dark track with houses, a few lights on. ‘Close up!’ I transmitted, then ran down the track. At the end of the track sat a large bush, a broken wall, and to my left was a large concrete building, but dilapidated.

  ‘Snipers, Tiller and Brace, Murphy and Terry, get up on the roof here on the left and aim out.’

  I knelt and wiped the sweat, dogs barking in the distance. ‘Moran, Mitch, Ginger, Doc, Salome, lower level.’

  They moved inside.

  ‘Medics, inside.’

  I called up the ‘B’ Squadron troop and they knelt next to me, Rizzo behind me. ‘Rizzo, see that three storey building, get up it. Go left, quietly.’