Wilco- Lone Wolf - Book 4

by Geoff Wolak

  ‘What yee up to?’

  ‘The UK has investments in the country, and the Prime Minister wants the man kept in, and ... more trade concessions I guess, so go fly the flag.’

  ‘I understand how these things work, I’ll call yee tomorrow.’

  Rocko had reported in yesterday, and again today as I sat in our make-do canteen, a fire going, a hole in the roof acting as chimney. He was east of the village, high ground yet dense jungle, and his OP was wedged between two very tall trees, one easy to climb, and Max and Jacque had clambered up twenty feet to a hollow, all snug with ponchos raised.

  I slept from midnight to 5am, comfy enough, having nicked bright green mats from the kit left behind by Rocko and Rizzo. It had rained during the night, puddles outside, a few puddles inside as well. Rizzo reported in as I sat having breakfast with Nicholson, and his patrol came back in an hour later, no one seen, no fresh tracks spotted.

  Nicholson headed out with three lads - they would man the very wet ambush point, and I wandered out to our forward defences.

  ‘You all snug in there?’ I asked.

  Face peeked out at me. ‘Bit of water in the bottom, sir. Pissed down last night.’

  ‘Dig down deeper then put some wood down. And put branches on top and at the front, make yourselves invisible from the tree line or some fucker might take pot shots at you.’

  ‘Will do, sir.’

  Ambling back, my phone went. ‘It’s Rocko, and the druggies have a mounted Duska. But the Pakistanis are down there, been there since sun up – they’re helping the druggies fix their Duska, and they handed over fifty cal ammo.’

  My mouth hung open. ‘Has Max photographed them?’

  ‘Think so, he’s up the tree snapping away. The Pakistanis counted out money and got back packets of something, too far away to see. They’re gone now, the Pakistanis, but the druggies are getting ready to leave.’

  ‘We’ll set an ambush, stay hidden. And get Max to call me on his sat phone.’ I stepped sharply towards the building. ‘Stand to all men! Stand to! Get down off the roof, get inside!’

  Inside, men running around, I shouted, ‘We have incoming, they have fifty cal, so get below something solid. Mister Morten, anyone in that tent?’

  ‘Not yet.’

  ‘Get everyone inside, heads down. Mister Haines!’

  ‘Here,’ came a voice.

  ‘No men outside except the men in the trench, call them all back, the rebels have a mounted fifty cal. Abandon the front gate.’ He ran out.

  I grabbed a bleary-eyed Rizzo, his men having been resting. ‘Get seven men, go northwest, follow the road but stay hidden, up to beyond the bend in the road, eyes on, they have a Duska fifty cal heading our way. Move it!’

  Names were shouted, kit placed on, rifles grabbed, the clatter of boots on the concrete stairs heard. Next I grabbed our Pathfinders plus Lassey, and sent them southwest, to follow the road out a thousand yards and to set an ambush. Elkin and our Salties had just come back from the ambush point – all a bit damp, but I sent them out, to the front gate and over the road five hundred yards.

  I clambered up onto the roof as the men there came down, and I could see the RAF Regiment lads running in from where they stood as static guards.

  When my phone went it was Rocko. ‘They just drove off south.’

  ‘We have men in place, stay there, eyes on.

  ‘Max is down from the tree, hang on ... ‘

  ‘Wilco?’came Max’s voice.

  ‘Did you photograph the Pakistanis?’ I asked Max.

  ‘Yes, good shots.’

  ‘You have got your satellite kit with you?’

  ‘Yeah, lugged the damn stuff with me.’

  ‘Then send out the pictures, stick to the truth – Pakistani peace keeps helping rebel gunmen fix their weapons and dealing in Blood Diamonds and drugs.’

  ‘Hell of a story,’ he enthused.

  ‘Send it, and keep your head down.’ Phone away, I wondered how mad Bob would be.

  Ten minutes later Rizzo phoned me. ‘Vehicles approaching, but we’re hidden. Wait, they’ve stopped, turning the Duska to face the base.’

  ‘Then kill the fuckers, all of them!’

  I lowered my phone. ‘Take cover! Take cover!’ And I made sure I was behind two walls, Mahoney next to me, Sergeant Crab and the directing staff stood casually sipping tea, Henri knelt ready, weapon in hand.

  A string of loud cracks sounded out, the hits felt through the concrete, dust falling down, then nothing as soldiers and medics peered up at the ceiling, waiting expectantly, the baby being gently rocked.

  My phone trilled five minutes later. ‘It’s Rizzo, we killed them, but one or two might have run off.’

  ‘Dump the bodies, I want that Duska and those jeeps, drive them in.’

  ‘Got a wounded man.’

  ‘Drive him in quickly.’ I lowered my phone. ‘Medics! Wounded man coming in! Mister Haines, put your men back out there and on the roof, normal positions.’

  I ran upstairs and clambered up onto the roof, Mahoney sticking with me, large holes now visible in the tall tower. I clicked on the radio, ‘This is Wilco, the fifty cal has been captured, stand down alert. Salties, come to the gate, check your fire, Rizzo is bringing in the captured jeeps. Pathfinders, you read me?’

  ‘Just about, bad signal.’

  ‘Stay where you are for two hours, then back.’

  Mahoney pointed at the new holes. ‘I reckon a fifty cal would have penetrated these walls.’

  ‘Never a good idea to be on the receiving end,’ I told him. ‘Take the fight to them.’

  ‘They have more fifty cal?’

  ‘I doubt it, expensive items. And the one they had was fixed and loaded by the Pakistani peacekeepers.’

  ‘Say what?’

  ‘Our OP above the camp, they observed the Pakistanis drive in, money changed hands, ammo handed over, Pakistani soldiers fixing the fifty cal ready to fire at us.’

  He stared back at me, wide eyed. ‘And we’re just supposed to let that happen?’

  ‘I told you, watch and learn,’ I said with a smile. ‘Max the journalist got it all photographed, uploading the images now with the story, but I’m under strict orders not to upset the Pakistanis.’ I handed him my sat phone. ‘Call your boss in the States, explain the situation with the Pakistanis, ask him if you should remain here.’

  ‘Why ... exactly?’

  ‘Because if you’re shot by a Pakistani it would be a major incident.’

  ‘Damn right it would.’

  ‘So make the call.’

  He hesitated, then punched in the numbers, stepping away. When done, he handed back the phone. ‘He says to stay put for now, but he’s going to pass it up the line.’

  ‘Me too,’ I said with a smile. I hit #1 as Mahoney studied me.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Bob, it’s Wilco, we have a situation.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘We have an OP above the camp north of us. At first light the Pakistani peacekeepers arrived, handed over ammo and money, got back diamonds and drugs, then spent a happy hour fixing a fifty cal Duska, which the bad boys then drove straight down to us and fired on us from a distance.’

  ‘Oh ... for fuck’s sake, I really don’t need this, and the Prime Minister does not need this out there.’

  ‘A bit late for that, because Max the reporter was in the OP, he photographed the episode, sent out the story, and Mahoney called his boss in the States, and Henri let his people know.’

  ‘Fuck...’

  ‘Don’t blame us for the way the world is, Bob, we’re just the ones getting shot at with Pakistani ammo.’

  ‘Any wounded.’

  ‘One minor wound, a few holes in the walls.’

  ‘I’ll have to brief the Prime Minister.’

  ‘You are indeed centre stage, Bob. What are your instructions?’

  ‘My instructions ... are to keep to the mission and try and avoid the Pakistanis.�
��

  ‘Bob, rest assured that if one of my men is killed from something the Pakistanis do I will assault their camp and kill every last one of them. I hope I’m being reasonably clear on that.’

  After a long pause, he said, ‘Try and avoid them at all costs, but defend yourselves. Please ... don’t retaliate, I’ll get back to you.’

  Call ended, I faced Mahoney. ‘The press will soon have the story.’

  ‘And how does that help things?’

  ‘It may help to stop Pakistani peacekeepers from dealing in Blood Diamonds and drugs, stop them from raping young girls, and cut off some money for the bad guys. And, hopefully, it will focus the world again on what some peacekeepers get up to around Africa, and that ... is a good thing.’

  ‘You want people focused on that,’ he noted.

  ‘I do, since many peacekeepers are part of the problem.’

  The captured vehicles, mostly Toyota pickups, could be seen coming down the road, turning in and driving around to the building, medics running out. The wounded man, Napoleon, cradled his arm and walked himself in. I headed down as the RAF Regiment reclaimed positions on the roof.

  Finding Rizzo, I asked, ‘Any other wounded?’

  ‘No, and he ain’t wounded, not by a bullet like, this small black bear-like thing attacked him.’

  ‘Small black bear ... you mean a mongoose?’

  ‘Whatever it was, big sharp teeth, we had to shoot it and shoot the gunmen at the same fucking time.’

  ‘Get the blood off those jeeps, they’re ours now. Stand down. Captain Moran, small patrol north east, please. Henri, small patrol south.’

  Calm reclaimed the base, and sick locals walked up to the gate, our medics tending them, and Rizzo and his team finally got some sleep.

  I called the Major and explained the situation, then called Rawlson.

  ‘Captain?’

  ‘Just a courtesy call, sir, a sitrep. “G” Squadron are in Freetown protecting the president -’

  ‘Why the hell are they doing that, those were not their orders!’

  ‘Because that’s what the Cabinet Office wanted, sir, the Prime Minister wants the president kept in following the attempted coup.’

  ‘Right, well ... OK then.’

  ‘But we have a situation here. My men in an OP observed the Pakistani peacekeepers help to fix a fifty cal Duska for the rebels, supply ammo, and that Duska then drove south to us an opened up on us.’

  ‘What? That’s fucking outrageous!’

  ‘Yes, sir, and the press know about it, so there’ll be a shit storm later on, COBRA will probably meet to discuss it, you may get a call, so I’m alerting you ahead of time.’

  ‘Jesus, there’re peacekeepers for fuck’s sake, but I did read about them getting involved with the locals.’

  ‘They deal drugs and diamonds, sir. Some of your men are here, and they were in harm’s way, so you need to know.’

  ‘Yes, thank you, and keep me advised.’

  ‘Will do, sir. Wilco out.’

  Bob called an hour later. ‘I just came from a COBRA meeting, everyone outraged at the Pakistanis, a formal complaint to be handed to their ambassador, the UN to be notified. Anything else happening down there?’

  ‘All quiet for now, and our medics are doing a little hearts and minds with medical care for the locals.’

  ‘And your plan?’

  ‘Very soon I’ll move on the druggy’s camp and thin them out a bit, once and for all, because I can’t move north if they’re still there and ready to attack us. I’d like to have a peek over the border as well. Is the coup all sorted?’

  ‘Yes, and the president there is very happy with us, the Prime Minister very grateful, but video footage has emerged from your fight at the airport, and it looks like a cluster bomb was dropped, and it shows the carnage of the aftermath. What exactly did you do?’

  ‘Twenty five men, four grenades each, all thrown down in quick succession, the men below totally exposed on the tarmac. They were not the best organised of people.’

  ‘I hear “G” Squadron sent some men.’

  ‘I re-directed them to the president, to make him feel all warm and secure.’

  ‘Good thinking; my friends in the mining industry want to squeeze out a few other nations.’

  ‘I’ll leave the politics to you, I am but a humble soldier.’

  ‘As soon as you can, probe across the border and ... make your presence felt.’

  ‘Why do I get the feeling that my actions are being controlled by politicians?’ I quipped.

  ‘Because they are.’

  The news hit later, the distorted part-truthful news that Pakistani peacekeepers had supplied ammunition to rebels to fire on American soldiers, and I wondered just how much shit that Pakistani major was getting right now. I went to sleep knowing that the British would get their breakfast news in the morning, and that the shit storm would spread.

  The Major called me at 9am. ‘Hell of a shit storm going on, Americans just about threatening to bomb the Pakistani peacekeepers, British public outraged, the photos that your man took have gone all around the world, peacekeepers dealing in drugs and diamonds.

  ‘The Pakistani officer in charge has been recalled, talk of them withdrawing soon, the Sierra Leone Government asking them to leave.’

  ‘If the Pakistanis go it will make it easier, sir, I may have a gap during which I can thin out the gunmen, but Bob is pushing for a move into Liberia, so I need to sort my back garden first. Oh, Napoleon may have to be sent back, bad arm, bitten by a mongoose type animal. It’s fifty-fifty.’

  ‘OK, let me know.’

  When my phone went it was Rocko. ‘Looks like we’ve been spotted, gunmen down there taking an interest in this spot.’

  ‘The photos that Max took are out there, and the Pakistanis probably reported your position. I’ll have a team on the west side very soon, feel free to spread out and snipe at them.’

  ‘Will do. I mean ... wil-co.’

  I got the men ready over the next ten minutes – no Externals, supplies and ammo checked, fly sheets taken, collapsible stretcher, and we set out in three overloaded jeeps – one hosting a Duska, Sergeant Crab and the directing staff driving for us. It took just ten minutes to reach the drop off point, the men down and running into the trees after me, the jeeps reversing course.

  I led the team up a ridge and we intersected the track we had used previously, beyond the burnt out jeeps. We slowed down, care taken, and I checked the forest floor for evidence of movement, finding no fresh tracks.

  Back at the forest clearing that I previously made use of we peered down and spread out, fire positions taken, and we could hear distant fire.

  I clicked on the radio. ‘Rocko, we’re across the valley. Report.’

  ‘We shot a dozen of the fuckers, some trying to flank us, but they ain’t the most switched on bunch.’

  ‘We’ll draw them away, stay there. All teams on the west side, snipe at anyone with a gun down there. Open fire.’

  Cracks sounded out, a few gunmen hit as I peered down, but we were soon short on people to fire at.

  Half an hour later a column of six jeeps appeared from the north, laden with men, and it halted next to the large building that had housed hostages.

  ‘Maximum effort, open fire!’

  With gunmen falling out of jeeps the rest scattered, being sniped at from both sides, and they were slowly worn down over the next hour. But then a machinegun opened up, trees hit.

  ‘Everyone get down, solid cover, they may get lucky! Where’s that machinegun?’

  No one could see the damn thing. When the tree above me was hit I had a look, figuring the angle, and I peered through the foliage below using my telescopic lens. I thought I saw muzzle flashes, and a minute later I saw tracer heading towards Rocko’s position.

  ‘Everyone, that machinegun is twenty yards north of a white hut with a green door, east of the stream, clothing hanging up on the south side. Try and spot it.’ />
  I fired at random where I thought it may be, and when I saw red tracer streaking out I pinned it down to a burnt-out hut. ‘That machinegun is in a burnt-out hut, north of the white hut with a green door. Everyone open up on it.’

  Cracks sounded out, and I emptied a magazine into the hut. After two minutes I called, ‘Cease fire!’ I waited, no further rounds coming from the machinegun.

  An hour passed, just the background chirp of the jungle for company, a few women walking around below as if nothing had happened, kids playing in some areas, finally a vehicle convoy noticed from the south, six vehicles laden with fighters.

  ‘Standby everyone. Rocko, your team, last three jeeps, my team, first three ... standby ... open fire!’

  Through my lens I observed men jumping down or falling off the jeeps, jeeps swerving or speeding up, and one crashed into a hut, burying itself in the flimsy hut. The men below had no idea where the firing had originated, and some of the men seemed to be firing into nearby huts and trees. A few men hid, a few crawled till they were hit again, bodies hanging out of the jeeps. It finally grew quiet.

  ‘Wilco,’ came Rocko’s voice. ‘Two women making a break for it my way.’

  ‘Intercept them, show a white face! Any face apart from yours, Rocko.’

  ‘Yeah, bollocks. I’ll show them Jacque, they’ll go all wobbly.’

  Ten minutes later he was back on. ‘Wilco, these women are from Liberia, they were snatched, forced to be hookers.’

  ‘Make sure Max interviews them, take them back when we go.’

  ‘Wilco, they’ve been here six fucking years, they were grabbed when they were ten years old, they have kids down there and they want to go get them.’

  ‘Tell them we’ll do that after dark. Calm them for now. Rizzo, take your team north and down, edge of the trees, see what you can see. Captain Moran, take three men south, same deal, don’t take risks, snipe at distance.’

  I observed the teams move left and right before staring down at the vast sprawling village, no movement seen.