Wilco- Lone Wolf 21
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‘And now I'm on first name terms with a few junior ranks, and they smile and nod, the odd joke about smelly shirts and what underwear did I want bought for me? I got a pair of fresh socks with The Simpons cartoons on, but no one could see them thankfully. We were strung out together, but worked as a team.’
‘Fire alarm needs testing now and then, sir, that's how we develop things.’
‘We learnt from it, for next time.’
‘My men eat and shit in a hole in the ground, sometimes for days, and you help each other, and you bond. You also shit in a paper bag, light it and throw it into the next trench.’
He laughed. ‘That helps with bonding, does it?’
‘It helps with relieving the stress, sir. Especially if someone in the next trench pats the fire out.’
The call finally came, and the White House were keen to move things around, a 5pm slot available, Tiny shocked that she was off to the White House, worried about being photographed – how was her hair, and what would she say to Sanderson back at GL4 if he found out.
‘Don't show the president your leg knife,’ I told her. ‘He has a reputation for the ladies.’
The vans finally arrived, and we were soon being escorted around to the White House, MPs in tow, not a long journey, the MPs pointing out many of the memorials and interesting buildings en-route. At the White House they checked the van, the underside, a man in a suit welcoming me as we were dropped off, ushered in with no cameras around.
Through a busy office area we were led by the guy in the suit, chatting about the flight over and the weather, and we were asked to wait in a side room, tea and coffee offered.
A general came in and joined us with a colonel, both pleased to see me, questions of the para drop onto the ship.
We were finally led into the Oval Office, Tiny a bit nervous, and I had my facemask in my left hand. The President stood, quite tall but very pale and white-haired, his Vice President smiling and shaking my hand, two assistants with clipboards stood off to one side, the General and the other officer behind us.
‘Welcome to the White House, Major,’ the President offered in a voice that sounded he was trying it on with a girl in a bar.
‘Thank you, sir. This is Tiny, the British agent that got the vital and timely intel on the mines being laid for your carrier, the Nimitz. They gave her a gold plaque at the Pentagon.’
He shook her hand, a keen smile on his face. ‘You don't look at all like a spy, and I've met a few, but I guess that is the point after all.’
Tiny blushed, which was odd to see, and we were offered seats.
‘Are you injured?’ the President asked me from behind his desk.
‘I'm recovering, sir, suffered a broken hip on the para drop onto the ship with the uranium, but was uninjured by the bomb blast at my house. I was up and peeing, and that saved me.’
They laughed.
‘And you've been training our soldiers...’
‘Yes, sir, the American Wolves. The final part of their training was high altitude parachute work, in teams, long walks in the desert to get back. They've now finished their training, and they've all seen action in several countries.’
‘Our military say that a decline in recruitment was turned around, all these films and documentaries about your exploits.’
‘In the UK we've had a sharp increase in recruitment, sir. On a side note, I was wondering if we can get down to business.’
He lost his smile. ‘What did you have in mind?’
‘Your media is doing a good job of screwing it all up, sir. They're damaging the FBI rank and file, the CIA rank and file, and they're a bit off target. Also … there are things I know that even you don't know, and I'd like to urge you to avoid cleaning your dirty laundry in public, sir.’
He exchanged a look with his Vice President. ‘My Intel Chiefs tell me you get much of the intel yourself.’
‘I've worked undercover in many countries, posing as someone else, and I've built up human asset contacts over the years, people that feed me intel.’
The Vice President noted, ‘That character of yours in the movie, Camel Toe, he was always on the phone.’
‘As I am, sir. At Camel Toe base I had the serial numbers of the weapons being delivered to the men attacking us, and I knew what they had for breakfast, and I knew their every move. That makes for a better movie ending.’
The President cocked an eyebrow. ‘Stage managed.’
‘Very much so, sir. And as someone who has information that you don't, I urge you to pull back in the media, or … to correct the media, and to let you know … we have a list of a dozen CIA agents and a dozen FBI agents that could all be arrested.’
‘Jesus.’
‘Thing is, sir, we'd rather there was less publicity. You're harming your own security services here, and we'd like to deal with some of these people quietly, and we have dealt with some of them quietly.’ They exchanged looks. ‘I was hoping you might head my warning, sir, and release a statement.’
‘Statement?’
‘I could write down the key points, sir.’
The Vice President put in, ‘Would sound better coming from you, they all trust you more than us.’
‘I'm willing to do that, because it makes my life easier, and we don't destroy years of hard work.’
‘We can edit it?’
‘Of course.’
The President waved at an aid. ‘Find a quiet room please.’
I was led out with Tiny, and to a quiet room, paper and pen handed over, and I started to write.
‘This is so fucking weird,’ Tiny whispered.
‘What is?
‘He's the President.’
‘He likes to get sucked off by young lady interns. They're going to impeach him and kick him out.’
‘Really?’
‘Yep. Now shush.’
I wrote down the key points, then I fleshed them out, then Tiny went through them and we corrected a few words, and it finally sounded OK. A nice lady then typed it up and sent it to someone as tea and coffee was brought in.
That someone corrected a few things and handed it to the Vice President, who read it aloud to the President and an aid. They liked it, and the Press Briefing was called. Actually, it had been scheduled already for 6pm, the hope being that I would say a few words. I now had quite a few words to say.
With the speech back in my hands I went through it, then tucked it away.
Made ready, I placed on my facemask, the aids a bit perplexed, but I told them I was a serving CIA agent, and we then had the odd situation of the Secret Service guys frowning at me as I was led along behind the President.
As we entered the cramped room everyone stood, the President taking the microphone and podium as a hundred cameras flashed at me, none at the President, and I could see the TV cameras focused on me. I swallowed.
‘We have with us today Major Wilco from the British special forces, recovering from recent injuries sustained when he parachuted with his team onto a ship at sea carrying uranium. One of our soldiers died that day, the other decorated here.
‘We recently had to suffer a dark day, a very dark day, when one of our own soldiers tried to kill Major Wilco. We are all aware of how many times Major Wilco has risked his live to save American hostages around the world, and how often his team has supported our special forces around the world, so it came as a blow that some of ours were to blame.
‘It came equally as hard to discover that serving FBI and CIA agents had been involved with a conspiracy, an investigation that is still ongoing. I have no fresh news to add to early statements on the developments, not at the this time, but I would like to invite Major Wilco to address you.’
As I moved to the podium a few stood and clapped, soon to be followed by the majority of them, which left me perplexed; I was used to getting shot at, not clapped at.
When they sat, I held the podium, my speech in my pocket. ‘I'd like to thank the Pentagon for inviting me to visit, and the than
ks given to my team for our recent campaigns, and I'd like to thank the President for the invite here today.
‘I would first like to point out that I work with the CIA and with American soldiers every day of the week, and have done so for many years. I hold no animosity towards the CIA or the US military for the actions of a few individuals, but I would like to point out to the Pentagon ... that if they sent those Americans soldiers embedded with me some cash, that they could buy me a beer now and then.’
They laughed, and I could see the President laughing to the side.
‘There has been at least one American officer embedded with my team right from the start, and I've been actively involved in the training of your American Wolves. Your Pentagon said to train them hard, so without permission I took them to Camel Toe base. When the Pentagon found out there was some loud and colourful language.’
They laughed, and so far I was well off-topic from the agreed speech.
‘But the men did very well, and they learned how to operate in the desert, and how to face down the enemy without blinking. Wolf recruit Murphy, a relative of Audie Murphy, is now a full time member of my team, and his rural upbringing had prepared him well for the life of a special forces soldier.
‘He'll shoot your eye out at a thousand yards, but has the bad habit of killing and eating all sorts of critters, even road kill. We certainly save on rations, and our veteran survival instructors were shocked by some of the things that Murphy likes to eat.
‘Unfortunately for the British, he sounds like a hick town teenager from Kentucky, and radio calls sometimes need clarification. Recently, Murphy reported that he had shot some parmesans, which is a type of cheese. Turned out they were Albanian partisans.’
They laughed.
‘The refined British lady officer that took the call had to clarify his fondness for cheese, and the staff at British Intelligence London queried if it was a crank call on a secure line. But he's one of my best ever recruits, and I'll certainly be looking at Kentucky as a fertile recruiting ground for men in the future.
‘I've worked alongside your US Navy SEALs many times, your Green Berets, your Delta Force, and recently your young Marines in Panama, and to answer a much asked question: no, I am not completely crazy.’
They laughed.
‘There is a difference being crazy, and taking a calculated risk after some training, and the crazy part comes in not understanding what you're risking your life for. You all saw the senator's brother after we rescued him, and unfortunately that's not an isolated incident.
‘You all saw the state of the hostages we found in Yemen, human beings being treated like garbage. British and American servicemen were shocked in 1945 when they opened the gates of the concentration camps in Germany and Poland, and everyone figured that such things would never happen again. We were wrong.
‘When considering how crazy we are, you need to see what we see on a monthly basis, and to understand that when we see people treated that way we find the courage – and the anger – to risk ourselves to go help. We have seen men killed and wounded, but they would not wish to be held back, even knowing the risks, because for the hostages we are their only hope.
‘And recently, people asked again if my men were crazy when we parachuted from altitude onto a moving ship at sea, a ship we thought had uranium on it, and a ship were thought was wired to blow.
‘I told the team beforehand that if the ship blew and sank it would close the beaches of Spain and France and Italy for a thousand years, the European economy ruined, a great many people to suffer from that.
‘That was the pep talk, and they needed no further encouragement, and they all volunteered, none were ordered in. Your Delta Force men volunteered, but I limited their numbers, and the French volunteered, some of their soldiers quite young.
‘No one would have said of the men on D-Day that they were crazy, but here in the world of post-war peace it can be hard to understand why we do it, why we take the risks.
‘Recently, we came across a new kind of enemy, the enemy within. Our plans were being reported to our enemies, our communications intercepted on occasion. I don't know who killed JFK, or if J.Edgar Hoover really had a secret organisation, but it seems that some old novels could be dusted off and read again, now that the rumours and the fantasy have become fact.
‘But what I've seen in your media these past few weeks has alarmed me, and worried me, because blame is being thrown around, and it seems to be misplaced. If a police officer in Alabama kills a black man, it does not mean that the people of New York stop trusting their police officers. The two are not linked.
‘If a very small group of FBI agents break the law, then the thirty thousand hard-working men and women of the FBI are not to be blamed by the media. If a handful of men in the CIA break the law or take money, the entire CIA is not to blame.
‘If the media continues to blame these institutions, then you will be doing severe and long-lasting harm to your own security services, the people you need to catch the bad guys, the people you need now more than ever.
‘The people of this country have to trust the police, have to trust the FBI, and have to trust the CIA. I … trust the police here, I ... trust the FBI, and I trust the CIA! And what I won't be doing is adopting a childish reaction and blaming an entire institution for the actions of a few individuals!
‘If one of your soldiers goes off-base and kills someone, do you shut down the Army as being a bad idea, do away with the military? Of course not. But some of you in the media are doing just that, and attacking the FBI and the CIA. They are not to blame here.
‘And let's get one thing clearly in focus here. None of these men were selling out to a foreign country, they were working off the books for Americans, for senior officers and power brokers, rich men and politicians. They were not spies, and those caught all thought that they were patriots and doing the right thing.
‘How easy is it … for a senior FBI manager to approach a junior rank and say: we know that certain men are gangsters but we can't get the evidence, how about you help us in secret? That junior rank will be trying to please his boss whilst doing what he thinks is best for this country.
‘Men were recruited on the promise that they would be doing what was best for this country, not working for the Russians. They would never have done that, they would have never sold out their countries, they agreed to help out senior staff, their own trusted employers.
‘Those at the top, they were the criminals, but even they were doing what they felt was best for this country, by attacking your enemies, people like the cartels.
‘It's just unfortunate that they tried to make money as well and that they got greedy, and having starting down a road towards illegal activity they lost focus, and they tried to cover their tracks by killing people, and when my team got in their way they tried to kill us, as well as American soldiers.
‘They dug themselves into a hole, and they wanted to avoid jail, so they took drastic action, ending up being as bad as the people they started out wanting to catch, as bad as the cartels. Power corrupts, and money corrupts, and men that get away with working in secret get a taste for it, and they lose their way.
‘So who's to blame for the culture, the culture that suggests you can take the law into your own hands, and you can work outside the system?
‘If three senators meet in secret and discuss how much they don't like the President, that's not a conspiracy, that is apparently normal daily politics here in the States. But what if they go further, and what if they want an opponent killed?
‘When I observe your politics on the TV I am amazed that your Congressmen and Senators seem to take money for influence, and that it's all legal and normal. To an outsider like me, it seems wrong, and a recipe for disaster. Because your politicians are supposed to be setting the standards for conduct, and then setting your laws.
‘If it's OK for a Congressman to take money for influence, then why not an FBI agent, why not a colonel in
the Army? If it's OK for Congressmen, then surely it's OK for everyone else, even for the police and the judges to take money for influence.
‘From an outsider's point of view, I wonder how many men in positions of power over the years have looked at Congress and figured that what was OK for the politicians should be OK for them. And that's how the mob got started, men who think that money for influence is OK.
‘From an outsider's point of view, from the man that has been targeted twenty times by American public employees and has the scars to prove it, I wonder what made the corrupt officials think that is was OK to take money and operate outside the law.
‘I think … that if Congress wants to know how these things get started, that they all take a damn good look in the mirror.’ I stepped back.
They were a bit stunned, but a few stood up and started to clap, soon most of them, still looking a bit stunned, the President clapping as well.
‘No questions just now,’ he told them, and he led me off. ‘I liked it, but that was not in the speech.’
‘Bummer, I guess I went off-reservation a bit.’
He shot me a look and a grin as I took off my facemask. ‘And I guess you planned that all along.’
‘Rumour has it I'm a spy, and a sneaky shit.’
Back in the Oval Office they had watched it on the TV. The Vice President noted, ‘Blame firmly at the door of big business and the lobbyists. Works for us. And you lifted the blame from the FBI and CIA, even made the traitors look like they're not traitors.’
‘It needs to be watered down,’ I told him. ‘And that we dismantle their groups quietly, not in public or in the courts.’
The President sat. ‘More of them out there?’
I sat. ‘Yes, sir, but were are doing a good job of finding them. Just need some time.’
‘Well I think the media got a firm kick up the arse, and they know it, and only you could have got away with that.’
‘I may have used that trump card, yes. But it was necessary, because the rank and file of the CIA are worried. Your military recruitment is up, but we've seriously fucked-up recruitment for the FBI for the next decade.’