by Geoff Wolak
‘A citizen card would help a great deal,’ I told him.
‘Then that will be my next priority, starting with my staff here and working outwards, soldiers first.’
‘And if some money was spent on border security guards, that would also help me keep you alive longer.’
He nodded. ‘I will double the men at each crossing, some fences perhaps. Now I have the money to spend, too much money.’
‘Use American dollars, that way you'll have a stable currency.’
‘I have considered this yes, our friend in Panama suggested it. He has some spare dollars.’
Moran laughed, Forester none the wiser.
I smiled at Forester. ‘Some things best left alone, no questions asked.’
‘I see.’
Back at the hotel I checked that we were secure, Ginger having organised a search for bombs and bugs, extra men on the roof, Tomo in the pool with a few lads. I checked in on our medics and made sure that two were on duty downstairs around the clock.
14 Intel turned up at 9pm, welcomed in, rooms allocated, the restaurant and bar busy, and I was chatting to groups till 1am, all armed, rifles slung.
In the morning the senior staff met. I told them, ‘Mister Forester is in charge of the planning, practice for when he takes over the Regiment.’ I faced him. ‘Sir...’
‘First off, I think this place is as secure as it could be for now, maybe a second dispersal site might be prudent. I'd like a six man team made up, and based at the airport, say six hour rotations, high visibility at the terminal.’
I pointed at Ginger. ‘Select six, take them, be there for the cross-overs, talk to the airport staff, reassure them, get a feedback from the European staff.’
He nodded.
‘Next,’ Forester continued. ‘We need a rota for guard duty here.’
I pointed at Mitch. ‘Your job. Minimum two on the front door, two on the roof, medics down in the lobby in pairs in rotation, regular patrols by you.’
He nodded.
‘Next, I want Major Moran to take a few men with some local soldiers and go visit the mine and oil areas, to collect local intel and local human observations, I have a list of locations.’
I told Moran, ‘Don't go light-handed. Eight men at least, well-armed.’
He nodded.
‘Next, I want to meet the local military and police commanders, no matter how reliable they are, and today if possible.’
‘I'll arrange that, sir,’ I told him.
‘Next, I know that we have oil workers here in the city, and nurses, so I want some civvy clothes for the men as they pose as oil workers, pistols hidden, and a car to use, tail car to follow. 14 Intel will take the lead with this one, their jobs, to look for armed gangs as they drive around.’
I pointed at the two 14 Intel captains. ‘Your task, regular vehicle patrols, stopping at suitable cafes, eyes open. I'll get vehicles today and some clothes.’
‘They have civvy clothes, sir.’
‘Then select your first teams, I'll get some dodgy transport. And here's a trick for you: chat to the local taxi drivers, who all know the city well. I'll hand you dollars, you hire the taxis for a day, pretend to be interested in the city, pump them about armed men, write it all down, and have your teams memorise the street map - it's not a big city.’
They nodded.
Forester continued, ‘Next, we'll insert late tonight several sniper teams on tall buildings, for observations and recordings, swapping them at 4am each day.’
‘Rizzo and Slider will handle that,’ I put in. ‘Plus Stiffy and his troop.’
‘I want that man, Stiffy, plus the one called Robby, in here and manning phones, as well as these two captains.’
‘Right, sir,’ I agreed.
With men dispersed, Forester asked me what I thought of the plan.
‘It's the plan I would have used, and is flexible enough not to piss anyone off. We maybe get some intel, then maybe we act on it. No one knows what the locals are like or what we'll find, so a rigid plan is pointless.’
I made a call and had jeeps driven over, then I walked out and hired three bored taxi drivers, a daily rate negotiated. They were keen and able, yet needed a bath. And a dentist. And some clean clothes. And new shoes.
The President sent a police officer, more like an enforcer and executioner of enemies, but he spoke good English and was a fan of mine. I introduced him to Forester, and our new recruit started to detail bad areas, very bad areas, and the ones you never want to go into.
‘We start with the worst areas,’ Forester insisted. ‘Is there a tall building?’
‘Here be a tall building, but the top was burnt, no one live there now.’
‘Good, we'll put men up it at 4am.’
Slider was updated, and he studied the map. ‘Can see that from the roof, black at the top and white at the bottom. A mile or more I'd say, southeast.’
‘Pick a team of four, 4am insert by taxi cab, out at 4am the next day.’
‘Rizzo wants some action, he can go first, Tomo, Parker and Monster with him.’
‘Make sure they have the large sights.’
‘We have like eight of them with us, and some of the expensive Yank night-sights.’
I told him, ‘This place is well lit all night, yellow lamps. And tell the fuckwits to watch the stairwell, eh. They call in as soon as they arrive, and any problems – no heroics. Oh, the new 14 Intel superstars, have one go along, rotate them.’
With 14 Intel men and ladies in civvies, pistols hidden, sat phones checked, the first two taxis drove out for a look around.
Up on the roof I fitted a silencer to my Valmet, then a large sight, and I knelt next to the wall, aiming into the shanty town, two British Wolves near me. I could see the body still there, kids playing near it, a dead dog.
On a corner I could see a man selling small packets of something, a pistol down his trousers. I aimed low and took out an ankle.
‘Something, Boss?’
‘Drug dealer, armed. He's now hopping mad.’
They laughed.
I peered through my sights, and my dealer was calling people nearby to help him, a woman binding his ankle. He got on the phone, so I waited.
Ten minutes later a jeep pulled up, four armed men.
‘Take aim,’ I told the Wolves. ‘Yellow jeep, red shop facia, four armed men.’
‘I see them.’
‘Then put your fucking silencer on!'
‘Right. Sorry.’
They both clicked silencers on in a hurry and re-acquired the men.
‘You ready?’ I called.
‘Ready, Boss.’
‘You on my left, hit the big fat guy, then work left to right, and smash the jeep. You on my right, Brigson yes?’
‘Yes, Boss.’
‘You start on the right, work in. Kill them all. Standby … three, two, one, fire!'
I hit the wounded dealer as the cracks sounded out, men sent flying. I killed two, the Wolves killing the others, the jeep smashed up.
‘Ceasefire. Observe.’
We observed as the locals peered around, no idea who was shooting, the dead soon relieved of their money, watches, shoes, and weapons.
Brigson was laughing. ‘That woman took their shoes.’
‘Might have been nice new shoes,’ I suggested. ‘Unlike our taxi drivers.’
‘Do they have ambulances here, or police?’ Brigson asked.
‘Some police yes, ambulances - doubt it.’
I left them to observe the scene and scanned the shanty town, another dealer hit in the ankle.
Half an hour later and a truck pulled up and loaded up the bodies, so someone was collecting the dead, maybe organised by the President. The jeep, even though smashed up, was towed away and stolen, local women washing down the blood. Life returned to normal on that street corner.
Downstairs, I told Forester, ‘We just shot five local drug dealers, then a truck took the bodies, so … someone here at least coll
ects the dead.’
‘Are we allowed to just shoot them?’
‘No police here, no courts, no prison, so … what would you do with them?’
‘I see your point, yes. What about British military custody?’
‘No authority here, that ends twenty miles north and the main road.’
‘So it's the law of the jungle,’ he sighed.
‘In this place … yes. The local girls are gang raped, throats slit afterwards, set alight, so don't worry about who we shoot. This is one small step from hell itself, and that shanty town over there is as bad as it gets in Africa.’
After lunch I led him up, and he adopted his own Valmet with large sights, soon peering out. ‘Christ, there's a body, next to a dead dog.’
‘Any bad boys, sir?’
He had a good look. ‘There. Green truck.’
We all had a look through our sights. I could soon see a line of four young girls, all tied up.
‘Standby to fire at the men, careful not to hit the girls. Three, two, one, fire!'
I killed the driver and shot out his tyres as the cracks sounded out, not that he would notice now. As we observed, a local woman walked over, a good look around, and using a knife she cut loose the girls, who ran off as fast as they could.
She then proceeded to castrate the four men, Forester looking away and trying not to be sick.
‘Welcome to Africa, sir.’
‘Is it always like this?’
‘No, sir, it's usually worse. Up country they'll kill the women and their babies, and burn down their houses. That's everyday life here.’
He aimed again, and we scanned the shanty town, finding a beating in progress.
‘Hold your fire,’ I ordered.
‘Why?’ Forester challenged.
‘We don't know what that man did. Maybe he raped a girl. You want to take his side?’
‘Well, no, I see what you mean.’
We observed as the man was beaten to death and set alight, his body left there. At least someone was dispensing the justice here.
14 Intel returned, and reported two armed gangs seen at certain buildings, busy commerce seen to be going in within. I checked with our liaison, and he did not know what they were up to, maybe drugs or guns. I had to make sure that the President was not involved; I did not want to kill his people.
A plan was made, to get 24hrs eyes-on from a taller building nearby, a 4am insert by taxi convoy.
I got to bed early, my bed uncomfortable, Swifty missing his nurse and complaining, and I woke at 3am to some additional complaining from my room-mate. Downstairs I got the coffee on, Forester yawning as he walked in.
Teams made up, taxis and jeeps ready, and Rizzo's gang set off first, calling in that they had inserted, and complaining that the building they were in was likely to collapse any minute.
With the transport back we sent out the 14 Intel team, but I had Greenie go along just in case. They inserted safely, no one around, and got up onto the roof. I asked if clothes were hanging, and they said no, so no one was using it for drying. I went back to bed for two hours.
At 10am Rizzo called. ‘We got us some organised operation we can see, armed men, boxes moved, metal bar bollocks on the windows.’
‘Keep observing, try and see what they're moving if you can, count numbers, note vehicles and registrations.’
‘Do we shoot these idiots?’
‘Not yet you don't. So observe.’
Midday, and Swifty came up. ‘Some guy here to see you, says he knows you, and that he sells garden gnomes?’
I smiled briefly. ‘Search him them bring him up.’
My visitor appeared five minutes later, Swifty holding a pistol levelled. My visitor was in his fifties, but on closer inspection his hair and beard were dyed.
I shook his hand. ‘You in disguise?’
‘Hell yes,’ came in an American accent. ‘It washes out after a few days though.’
I led him to a quiet spot. ‘Why the face to face?’
‘So that you know me and don't shoot me by mistake. And I need some cash. I had a job close by, but spent too much money, and I can't ask my boss.’
‘So you spent it on something you shouldn't have?’
‘Local orphanage.’
‘And your bosses would not approve...’
‘Hell no, they'd think I was a softy – and get rid of me.’
‘Why tip me off at the base?’
‘Because I don't agree with what they do, some of them at least.’
‘You work with Miller?’
‘I know him, but I'm outside. I work for a tight group, well organised, neither Deep State nor FBI. I work for the assault rifle manufacturers.’
‘And they ship guns south and drugs back...’
‘You might think that, I couldn't possibly comment.’
I smiled. ‘And Carlos the Jackal?’
‘Buys and sell, yes, they all do. It's a billion dollar industry, no tax. And Carlos is doing well thanks to you, growing nicely.’
‘And do your bosses want me dead?’
‘They're fans of yours, but can't quite figure out who's pulling your chain, or how you do what you do so well. But I think they're starting to get worried by you, especially when you talk to the White House.’
‘The uranium?’
‘Not them.’
‘So who wants a war in Iraq?’
‘The big boy arms producers, aircraft and tanks and ships. No one will ever touch them.’
‘I could,’ I threatened. ‘But Delaney thinks I'm on board.’
‘Are you?’
‘Not really, no. War in Iraq would be a mess, a big mess.’
‘It's not about Iraq, they want to quell the whole Middle East; Syria, Lebanon, Iraq, Iran and Afghanistan. They want it all done now, while Russian is weak. You see, they have some smart fellas sat in a room producing predictions, and those predictions say that China will catch us up real soon and kick us in the balls.
‘They also say that China cannot grow beyond a certain point without strategic oil deals, such as Iran.’
I noted, ‘And if you get in there first then China has to buy from you, and you can strangle the Chinese economy.’
‘Yep.’
‘Quelling the entire Middle East would take twenty years, and cost ten thousand men dead, a hundred thousand wounded.’
‘More than that.’
‘And your opinion?’
‘It's lunacy. We swap presidents and ideas every four years, eight at most, so the next Republican president has eight years till he's out, Democrat in and the war ends before it's finished, back to square one. Problem is not Iran, problem is public opinion and our voting habits.’
‘It's a perverse and inefficient two-party system,’ I noted.
‘Yep.’
‘So … was there something you wanted me to do?’
‘Keep it all in mind, because they have plans for you, leading the invasion.’
‘Ah. But could you get me a list of key men..?’
‘You'd take them out?’
‘If I had to, yes.’
‘They'd be replaced, they're not irreplaceable, a new CEO will take over. Too many of them.’
‘Do you have a plan to stop them?’
‘If they found out they'd roast me. And no, no plan, I was kinda hoping you'd come up with one.’
‘To persuade the voters to support a war, they need the voters calling for revenge, something like a carrier sunk,’ I thought out loud.
‘Exactly like that. And that's where you come in, seen to stop them after being asked to stop them by the CIA. They can't get mad at you for doing your job, and you help gun sales. Helped Valmet as well, so I hope you're on a commission.’
I smiled. ‘No. Are they popular in the States?’
‘Last year they sold twenty thousand in the States. And they ain't cheap!'
I lifted my Valmet. ‘I designed this after Bosnia, my time in the woods. Wide magazine port,
heavy barrel, bigger pistol grip.’
‘I'm a gun nut, I bought one. I blast things a mile away, squirrels from the trees.’
I nodded. ‘So … you want me to look for the outrage, and stop it.’
‘No outrage, no reason to go to war, no fire lit under the Middle East.’
‘I have to walk a fine line, but … I would have tried to stop it anyway, as with that drop onto the ship.’
‘You had me worried, stupid stunt like that.’
‘Had to stop that ship and get some answers, but we got few answers. At least now they can't dump it somewhere. Any FBI shits left out there?’
‘How would I know? I never dealt with them, never even knew they had an outfit.’
‘And your area is..?’
‘Guns, legal or otherwise, shipped around the world. I dealt with Deep State for twenty years, but work for the rifle manufacturers, and they spy on Deep State, or they did. They have some good teams, teams that go across the border and back without ever getting caught.’
I nodded. ‘Deep State fucked up a lot of the time, the left hand jerking off whilst the right hand slept.’
He laughed. ‘Sounds about right, yeah. Powerful people ain't always the smartest people.’
‘How much money do you need?’
‘Twenty grand.’
I led him down, and called Mike Papa, who delivered fifty thousand dollars straight away. I paid my guest without anyone seeing, the rest of the cash handed to Forester for taxis, for costs and for bribes.
With my guest gone I returned to the roof.
‘Everything OK?’ Swifty asked as he peered out at the city.
‘Next year's headache,’ I told him. ‘Some thinking to do first.’
