Wilco- Lone Wolf 8

by Geoff Wolak

  I looked up at the para instructor. ‘Room for another four to six, yes.’

  ‘I’ll let them know, sir.’

  Sasha stepped towards us from his room. ‘Where do you want my team?’

  ‘You come with me and the police, to protect the police. We’ll go in by Chinook.’

  He nodded. ‘But we could exercise them, and walk there, no.’

  I smiled. ‘Thirty miles.’

  ‘We have walked further.’

  ‘Don’t tempt me, but I might walk them back. Your back OK?’

  ‘Ah ... so so. Yours?’

  ‘So so,’ I said with a smile.

  With Sasha gone, Moran said, ‘You ever going to tell us the history there, or how he got injured?’

  ‘He got injured when I pushed him out of a helicopter.’

  ‘Why’d the fuck you push him out?’ Swifty asked.

  ‘I saw the heat-seeking missile coming at us.’

  ‘Ah,’ Mahoney let out. ‘I’d jump as well. But please, don’t go pushing me out of any damn helicopters.’

  ‘I pushed Rizzo out of a helo, and he’s OK.’

  ‘Apart from the brain damage,’ Swifty noted, making us laugh.

  An hour later my phone trilled, a number I knew. I stepped away from the team. ‘Da!’

  ‘It’s Tomsk.’

  ‘Hi, Boss.’

  ‘Listen, I mentioned Liberia to a man, and he knows another man, and this man is an arms dealer, and they say some big operation is going to happen in Liberia – so now I’m worried about my fucking oil platform.’

  ‘That’s not good, not least for your oil rig I mean.’

  ‘They try to remove the President?’

  ‘They might do, yes.’

  ‘This man, he supplied rifles, and says there are three thousand six hundred men up north somewhere.’

  ‘Three thousand six hundred?’ I challenged.

  ‘Many groups coming together, being paid to attack Monrovia he says.’

  ‘We knew there were groups planning to attack, but not so many. Get hold of that man, find out everything, or you lose your oil platform.’

  ‘I better not lose it, I kill these fucks myself!’

  ‘Find out what you can, get back to me quickly.’

  I checked my watch, and called the Cabinet Office. ‘It’s Captain Wilco in Sierra Leone. Get a message to the Prime Minister immediately: situation critical, four thousand rebels gathering to attack Monrovia, groups being paid to come together.’

  Next call was SIS, the same message before I called Colonel Marchant in Freetown.

  ‘I was not at a cocktail party,’ he quipped as the phone was passed to him.

  ‘Glad to hear it, sir. Listen, intel has four thousand rebels massing on the northern border.’

  ‘Four thousand!’

  ‘I need everyone who has a gun ready to use it, they sleep with it, and I’d suggest, sir, that the Gurkhas move out and cut the roads and strengthen their border presence immediately.’

  ‘Yes, will do. I’ll get coffee on, could be a long night.’

  ‘I’ll get back to you soon, sir.’

  I got my Echo lads together outside. ‘Listen up, we have intel. The various groups up north have joined forces to try and topple the dictator in Liberia, four thousand of them.’

  ‘Four thousand?’ Moran loudly queried. ‘We were going to drop para instructors in for a nose around!’

  ‘Could have been hairy,’ I agreed.

  ‘So what’d we do now?’ Rizzo asked. ‘Go that drop planned for tonight.’

  ‘I’d say we still need eyes on, now more than ever, and if the team is in the jungle they’ll be fine, no one looking for them so long as they’re quiet. Those rebels want to head south, not search the jungle for a handful of men.’

  My phone trilled so I stepped away, leaving a loud debate behind.

  ‘Wilco.’

  ‘Prime Minister here. What do you know that we don’t?’

  ‘Intel has a man linked to an arms dealer who’s been supplying the rebels, so we have real-time human intel, sir.’

  ‘And you trust it?’

  ‘Yes, sir, not least because we saw probing attacks further south than I’ve ever seen them before. I’m planning on inserting teams tonight to get eyes on, then we’ll know more.’

  ‘And worse-case scenario?’

  ‘They won’t take the capital quickly, the President there is well protected, many armoured personnel carriers, so it would be a civil war, refugees piling over the border into Sierra Leone.’

  ‘Well we don’t want that, because we’d be feeding them - and trying to sort out the gunmen amongst them. And if the dictator there is replaced we’re back to square one as far as border security goes. Who does intel believe is behind this?’

  ‘Nigerian oil barons, but that’s not official – nor to be repeated in polite company, sir.’

  ‘Nigerians ... wanting to get at the oil, vexed by that Russian oil platform now sat in place.’

  ‘Yes, sir, but ...’

  ‘But what?’

  ‘There are French mercenaries in the mix, and they’d be under the careful eye of Paris, so...’

  ‘So Elf oil is also involved. Bloody marvellous, another headache.’

  ‘Paris did deny involvement, but French intel do keep a good eye on their mercenaries, so someone in Paris knew.’

  ‘What do you need to stop those men? There are a great many of them, and we don’t want too many casualties.’

  ‘Bring down the rest of my men, a squadron of regular SAS, some foot soldiers to bolster the border. We can cut roads and bridges and harass the rebels; there are only a few roads they could take. Unfortunately, the best road south passes through Sierra Leone, a few miles from where I’m stood.’

  ‘We’ll make some plans overnight, but you think about cutting those roads.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  Call cut, I glanced back at my team as they stood debating the matter, and I recalled a number.

  ‘Mister President, it’s Petrov.’

  ‘Ah, some ... news.’

  ‘There are four thousand men gathering in the north to attack south, nudged by the Nigerian oil barons.’

  ‘Four thousand? Then they all come together.’

  ‘I need to ask you do so something.’

  ‘What can I do to help?’

  ‘You know the bridge we spoke about, and the road east?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I need you to pull back all your men south of that road by two miles, and cut the roads with heavy weapons, men stood ready. Let civilians pass. British soldiers will operate north of that road, and will kill any armed men they find.’

  ‘I have few men north of that road, they can be brought back quickly, and I will set the roadblocks, yes. But what about the British and Americans?’

  ‘They will assist you, more men arriving soon.’

  ‘That is good to know.’

  ‘If you have spies north of that road, get reports of movement back to me. Have them identify themselves as Mike Papa, for Mister President, and I am Papa Victor, for Petrov; there may be British soldiers near me listening.’

  ‘Papa Victor, we are Mike Papa. OK.’

  ‘Papa Victor out.’ I joined the team.

  Rizzo said, ‘They won’t find us in the jungle, even if they wanted to look. And they’re fucking crap anyhow.’

  Moran said, ‘Two teams HALO in as planned, eyes on the main roads, more to follow.’

  ‘All of Echo will probably be sent down, plus regulars,’ I told them. ‘All the enlisted men here will be kitted out ready tonight. There are men on the bridges already, patrols north, so we’d get some warning of trouble around here. Take the para instructors, but – you know – don’t put a number on the expected rebels.’

  Swifty laughed. ‘If they knew, they’d be running back to Freetown.’

  ‘And the coppers?’ Moran asked.

  ‘Are in a bad place,’ I rep
lied. ‘I’ll use them to protect this spot, or send them back. I’ll chat to Donohue now.’

  A minute later I nudged Donohue and his buddy outside. ‘Listen, civil war kicking off over the border, extra British forces will arrive here, so ... maybe we’ll send your lads home.’

  ‘Home? Why?’ Donohue protested.

  ‘There’ll be reporters asking questions, and this will be in the papers.’

  They exchanged looks. ‘We’ve come this far, lads doing well,’ Donohue complained. ‘It’s all going well, don’t want to slow it down now. And if they get some risk exposure here ... great.’

  ‘And the press?’

  ‘They’ll find out someday,’ Donohue said with a sigh. ‘But ... if our lads are seen to do something useful ... then great. Could you ... wangle something for us?’

  ‘Don’t want much, do you?’ I complained. ‘How’d I limit the fucking risks?’

  ‘Let us decide, then you’re covered,’ they suggested.

  ‘OK, but you two – talk to London, right now.’

  I called Max, our trusty reporter, and he’d be on a civilian airliner just as soon as he could. I just hoped that the press would understand the police being here, and I considered how I would explain them.

  When my phone trilled it was David Finch. ‘Wilco?’

  ‘Yes, Boss.’

  ‘All hell breaking loose down there?’

  ‘Not yet, and not here, but four thousand men are sat ready to move on Monrovia.’

  ‘And their chances?’

  ‘They’d lose, but it would mean weeks of fighting.’

  ‘Whoever is nudging them would not do so unless they thought they had a chance.’

  ‘True, so maybe they have someone close to the idiot dictator in Monrovia, ready to poison his milk.’

  ‘Poison his milk ... that was how they tried to get Castro.’

  ‘You have indeed read a book or two, Boss,’ I teased.

  ‘And you got the intel from..?’

  ‘Tomsk has a buddy who runs guns, and he mentioned that he had been supplying the rebels up north.’

  ‘Which would worry Tomsk greatly, given his oil platform.’

  ‘It sure would. Prime Minister called me, British forces to ramp up. Oh, if anyone asks about the intel, it came from your men on the ground, OK.’

  ‘Since it was us ... who sent you to Panama in the first place, we can legitimately claim the credit.’

  I laughed. ‘Why not. Oh, and I spoke to our dictator next door, and he’s withdrawing all his men south below the main road east from my FOB, and he’ll block those roads – at least he’ll order it before he sips his poisoned milk.’

  ‘How will that help?’

  ‘It’ll box them in for us. If we miss them, and they pass us, then they’ll get bogged down, and we’ll hit them from the sides and the rear, slow attrition.’

  ‘Typical SAS work, yes. OK, we’ll talk in the morning.’

  The para instructors got ready to HALO in with my lads, unaware of the numbers they were facing. Two teams would go in, four para instructors with each team, and to new drop points that I had chosen, road junctions on the main roads south.

  The teams would land two miles away and walk in, and hopefully land on arable land, not jungle. If they hit a rice paddy they would be getting wet, and I lied when I said we’d recover the chutes by helo a few days later.

  The Skyvan touched down half an hour later, and I wished my teams good luck, waving them off as they headed to the airport to get the chutes and HALO bags. Back inside, I sat with Donohue, beef stew on the menu again. Swifty, Moran and Mahoney had all wanted to insert, so it was just me to hold the fort with Sasha’s team.

  Morten took a call, then came and sat with me and Sasha. ‘Brize Norton and Lyneham are at panic stations, half the British Army on its way here.’ He waited as heads turned.

  ‘We’re ramping up, yes. Rebels might try and move on Monrovia.’

  ‘In the past you’ve dealt with such men without ... half the Army being sent down?’ Again he waited.

  ‘There are four thousand of them.’

  ‘Four thousand!’ Donohue repeated, heads turning, worried frowns adopted. ‘How far off are they?’

  ‘Forty miles,’ I assured him. I turned my head to the Gurkha captain. ‘You’ll stay here with us for now, rest of your lot deploying tonight probably.’

  ‘But the action is across the border?’ he queried.

  ‘Best way from where the rebels are, to where they’d like to be, is the road a few miles north of us here.’

  ‘Right then, best get organised.’ He stood. ‘You chaps, let’s have those tables together in the middle of the room.’ Tables together, he laid out a map, cups used to hold it down. I stood and showed him the roads. He nodded, ‘Easy route if they cut through Sierra Leone territory, shit roads in Liberia – one main road, so they’d be seen – and ambushed!’

  Phone out, he called his major for a chat, and using yellow post-it notes he detailed who was where, and what was planned by the Gurkha major, the Gurkhas now in a flap.

  My phone trilled. ‘Wilco.’

  ‘It’s Rocko, we’re at Brize Norton. What’s the flap about?’

  ‘Four thousand rebels massing on the border.’

  ‘Oh, well ... how about you go over there and sort it and we go back to bed?’

  ‘Did you wish to get paid this month, Staff Sergeant?’

  ‘Yeah, I need the dough.’

  ‘Then I’m sure I can find some work for you when you get here, so that you earn that pay.’

  ‘If we’re flying down in a Hercules I want extra.’

  Phone down, I considered the Wolves, and recalled the number for SIS. ‘It’s Wilco. Ask David Finch to gather the Lone Wolves and send them, this is their kind of conflict.’

  ‘I’ll pass it on now to Rob Fisher, he’s taken charge of them, and he’s in the building.’

  Phone away, I had a look at the map as people discussed the development. Stood there, I was kinda hoping that the rebels moved south, got halted on that road, and that we then hit them.

  After a little more beef stew, my phone trilled. ‘That Captain Wilco?’

  ‘It is.’

  ‘Lieutenant Colonel Marsh, 2 Para, in Kenya. I got my arse kicked up out the officers mess half an hour ago, we’re coming to you with some of your SAS, “G” Squadron. What’s the situation there?’

  ‘The situation is ... land at my FOB, men all kitted ready to fight the moment they step off the plane.’

  ‘Oh, that kind of situation. Well we’ve got fuck all to go on.’

  ‘Jungle greens, sir, webbing, lots of ammo, no grenades on the men during the flight I’d hope, GPMG, 66mm if you have it, water and rations – but I’ll try and get some rations and water for you now. When will you get here?’

  ‘After dawn, they said.’

  ‘Think what you might need for the jungle, sir.’

  ‘Bunch of my NCOs did the set patrol routes where you are.’

  ‘Then they’ll know exactly what to expect. You’ll be going over the border into Liberia, where civil war is about to break out.’

  ‘And our assigned task?’

  ‘Shoot dead the rebels, sir. It’s fluid, but I’ll have a better idea when you get here maybe. As we chat, my lads are HALO dropping into Liberia, deep behind the lines, and they’ll get eyes-on for us. But may I ask, sir, ignoring your orders from above for now ... how much of a participation you’d like to see?’

  ‘An odd question.’

  ‘Well, sir, you can tell me that you’d like to limit casualties and risks, that you’d hold a border whilst others went forwards, or that you’d like to go all out and kill the bad guys.’

  ‘All out and kill the bad guys, yes. Men have had enough damn training to last a lifetime, about time they fired a shot in anger.’

  ‘Very well, sir, when I’m chatting to London and making plans we’ll factor that in.’

  ‘Why ask
the question though?’

  ‘The officers of other groups have expressed a keen desire to avoid casualties.’

  ‘Then what the fuck are they paid to do, march up and down! We’re soldiers, the cutting edge, and we want action!’

  ‘Then be ready when you step off the plane, sir, things around here change quickly.’

  ‘We’ll be ready.’

  I called Colonel Marchant in Freetown. ‘Sir, can you organise a shit load of tents, rations, water, and maybe a field mess tent.’

  ‘Reinforcements coming down? I’m yet to get the paperwork.’

  ‘2 Para are coming.’

  ‘How many of them?’

  ‘Not sure, maybe all of them.’

  ‘There are tents, some large ones as well, as there’s a field cookery unit here doing very little – nice little cafe or two outside the wire for the men.’

  ‘I’ll need them for dawn, sir, rations and tents.’

  ‘Dawn? They’ll love that. OK, I’ll get it sorted now, we have the use of local trucks.’

  Back inside, Haines said, ‘More of my lot on the way, more medics.’

  I nodded. ‘Good practise for them. Oh, 2 Para on the way.’

  ‘Bloody glory boys,’ our Gurkha captain put in. ‘My lot can do the job, and without the swagger.’

  I smiled. ‘Ask your major if there are any sandbags close by?’

  ‘Fucking millions of them, left by the peacekeepers.’

  ‘Ask him for a shit load, please, for dawn.’

  Phone to his ear, he stepped out.

  At 11pm, my lads about to jump from the Skyvan, Colonel Dean called.

  ‘Up late, sir?’

  ‘It’s ... eleven here, and I’m not that old yet. “G” Squadron on their way to you?’

  ‘Yes, sir, and 2 Para.’

  ‘Could you use more men, I mean, get them some exposure – not too many wounds?’

  ‘Yes, sir, I can manage the risk up to a point.’

  ‘This operation sounds big, so I want the maximum training benefit out of it.’

  ‘I’ll make sure any men you send will get some training, sir.’

  ‘You think it’ll all blow up in Liberia?’

  ‘All the signs pointing that way right now.’

  ‘Well, an excellent training ground, and many of the men completed those patrol routes down there. Most of “G” Squadron have done them, so they’ll hit the ground running.’