by Geoff Wolak
‘These three lads seem OK,’ I told him. ‘We’ll move out just after dark, so drop us a mile from the target villa.’
‘Good,’ he commended.
I eased back. ‘So why have you not gone after the Colombians before?’
‘These three men, they are OK, but it would always be a risk, and I have thought about it many times, but when I saw you handling the equipment and fashioning silencers – I knew you’d have a better chance of doing it.
‘If you fail, they come for me, so I have to be ready for that too. If all goes well at the house we hit their bar and their places in the town.’
I topped up my water bottle and checked my webbing, checked the first aid kits, and as it grew dark we kitted up, four walking bushes. I had each man fit his silencer and test weapons, firing into the distant ocean. We were set.
Two of us lay down in the back of one jeep, two in the following jeep, and we set off down the track, arms under heads to stop us being knocked out as we negotiated the bumpy track.
This was a risk, and probably foolish, but it was a challenge and I wanted to succeed, my professional pride on the line here. Right now, the Prime Minister would be horrified if he knew, and I wondered what Bob would say, knowing that he wanted such men as these Colombians gone – preferably feet first.
But to kill Tomsk and his crew I had to first gain their trust, become part of the crew, to find out who each man was, where the business interests where. I needed time, and I needed information. For now ... I needed to behave like Petrov might.
After a twenty minute drive we eased to a halt and jumped down, soon into black dense jungle, the jeeps driving off. If we had been dropped in the right place we were north of the target villa by a mile, but I checked my compass anyhow, as well as the local topography.
‘Test radios,’ I called, putting in my ear piece, already soaked in sweat. ‘I’m Number One.’ Since we had two Yuris and one Sasha, I gave them numbers, and with radios working, at least at this close range, we set off.
‘Fingers off triggers,’ I called as I led them across the road and through the trees, starting down a slope at a steady pace.
Fifteen minutes later we found a clearing, and peering down I could see the target road and the target villa, it’s tended lawns lit up like it was a hotel. Peering through my telescopic sight I could see dog patrols, men with rifles on the walls, and I was loving this, hiding my smile beneath my facemask and about to get an erection.
I led my team left and down, a ridge between us and the target villa, a slow steady slog through thick vegetation for twenty minutes till we hit the road, and I was sweating profusely in the heat and humidity. I chose a bend in the road and positioned two men, taking my Number Two with me. When we were in position I checked the radio again. Then we simply waited.
It was almost forty minutes later before the first jeep appeared, the job of the second team to quickly confirm who was in it and call out ‘Open fire!’ for whichever direction the jeep was travelling.
The jeep’s headlights approached from the target villa, and we took aim, getting ready, soon a call of ‘Open Fire!’ and all four of us fired, quiet cracks sounding out through a black night.
I hit the driver through the windscreen twice, and he veered away from us and hit a tree, the men in the back peppered before I ran forwards, finishing off men and double-tapping. Six men down.
‘Drag the driver out, drive it back and into the trees, hide it!’ I called, watching the road.
The jeep reversed, turned into a gap and sped forwards, bouncing down a slope, the lights turned off. Number Three clambered back up the slope.
‘Back to the same positions!’ I hissed, and we ran in our pairs, back across the road to the dark tree line and hidden, soon just listening to the tree frogs in the dark.
Thirty minutes later a two-jeep convoy approached from the target villa. ‘Leave them!’ I ordered, and they drove straight past us and towards the town.
‘That’s enough men out the villa,’ I suggested over the radio, and led my Number Two down the track to the others, soon jogging down the road a hundred yards before walking. With the target villa in sight I found a flat piece of wood on the side of the road and placed it – very carefully - down, a grenade under it. That would give us fair warning of vehicles approaching.
Three hundred yards short of the villa I broke right into the trees and led my team on at a fast pace, and to a point above the villa, our target now just a hundred yards away and brightly lit.
Peering up, I could see a tall tree with plenty of vines, and a hollow. ‘Number Two, sling your rifle, up the tree, you are our sniper.’
With our help he started up, using vines and branches, and made it to the hollow.
‘What can you see?’ I asked over the radio.
‘I can see everything apart from the far side, but I can see some grass on the far side and the wall.’
‘How many men?’
‘Six.’
‘Wait my signal to fire,’ I ordered, and I led the last two on, slowly and quietly. Reaching the wall, we dipped down into the shade of the lawn lights, and finding a log we wrestled with it, placing it against the wall.
‘Number Two, cover us, we’re going over.’
‘OK, I see you.’
I eased up first, head over and a peek taken, a man seen walking away from us, the dog patrol at the south end. I waited till the dog was out of sight, and I eased up onto the wall, stepping right five paces to a darkened spot. I knelt and took aim.
Three and Four clambered up, and lowered themselves down quietly, rifles handed down first, and they took position behind bushes.
‘Vehicle coming!’ came from our tree-top sniper. ‘It’s approaching the grenade ... gone past it ...’
The blast echoed, the grenade having detonated behind the jeep. Now I could see the jeep as it halted, men jumping down and looking back, rifles in hand, much shouting in the house, window lights coming on.
‘On my mark, Number Two – hit the men outside the wall.’ I waited for four men to approach the gate. ‘Open fire!’
I hit a dog, then it’s handler as the cracks sounded out, the men outside firing into the trees, not at us, the men inside also aiming at the trees, but confused as to what to do, and the four men at the gate were killed quickly.
A face in a window and I fired, movement right and I turned and fired, a dog handler hit, the dog running off.
‘Hold position!’ I ordered, and I moved along the wall, suddenly level with a window and seeing movement inside. I fired four times, the glass shattered, and I was sure I hit two men. Rifle to my left hand, grenade out, pin pulled with my left glove thumb, I threw hard through the window before aiming again.
The blast echoed, visibility lost as I moved right along the wall, now easily visible to anyone in the villa, and I finally got a view of the far side, two men sneaking along. I hit both in the head at fifteen yards.
‘Number Two, what can you see?’
‘No one moving around.’
‘Three and Four, move slow, get close to the villa walls, use grenades through windows.’
A hand on the wall and I jumped down, soon to the edge of the villa, the sprinkler system hissing out water, and I shot the dog as it stared back at me.
Edging along the wall I passed two bodies, and I could hear voices coming from inside, a nice terracotta stairway and terrace leading to white plastic tables and chairs, and ornate glass doors. Firing four times, I shattered the glass, grenade out and thrown in, the blast echoing, women screaming – I had to remind myself that I was Petrov.
Moving up the steps, I aimed into the house, seeing a man knelt with a pistol shouting instructions. I fired twice, once to break the remaining glass, and he went down. Pulling out a smoke grenade, I lobbed it inside, and waited.
A burst of fire shattered the glass above me, a second long burst, soon a third, but I was below the terrace, checking behind me – and momentarily admiring the
very well tended lawns. As the firing eased, and as voices got louder, I threw another grenade, the blast echoing, screams and cries rising.
Another long burst of fire came out, the man silenced by two quiet cracks, so I figured that Three and Four had shot the man.
Ducking down, I backed away from the terrace and moved down the side of the villa, shooting out lights as I went, this side of the villa soon darker.
At the front of the villa I could hear hushed voices, and panicked voices. Peeking around the edge of the wall, two men were considering their chances of making a run for it. I waited, and two minutes later they ran out and forwards, heading for the lower lawns and maybe a side entrance.
I hit one, but the second must have been hit by my tree-top sniper. I double-tapped both bodies, and it grew quiet.
Moving up the front steps, shoulder to the wall, I inched very slowly towards the front door, but could not hear anything.
‘Vehicle coming!’ hissed out from the radio.
‘How many?’ I asked.
‘Just one.’
‘Don’t fire till the men are out and think we’ve left, let them get inside. Three and Four, get to where you can cover the gate.’
‘We are on a second level, we can see the gate.’
‘Standby,’ I said as I rushed down the steps and to a low wall, sitting down behind it, a row of ornate dwarf bushes hiding most of my position.
I could hear the jeep approaching, slow, stop, car doors slamming, shouts, calls, now footsteps on the road.
Two men appeared, peeking inside the main gate.
‘Hold your fire,’ I called over the radio. ‘When I fire, you fire.’
I took aim, a twenty yard shot, the men well lit. They edged inside, rifles ready, bodies glanced at, and two soon became four, but the lack of firing had them fooled, and they figured they were too late, the four men soon walking upright forwards.
I fired, a man hit in the chest and knocked back, his colleagues dead before they hit the floor.
Over the radio I said, ‘Three and Four, clear room by room, I’m at the front door, lower level – don’t shoot at me.’
I jumped up and ran up the steps and inside, the hallway dark, smoke wafting, nothing heard as I knelt and waited. A peek inside the first room, the plush room looking like a museum, and it was obvious it was empty. The second room, opposite, also reminded me of a museum, and was also empty.
Moving down the central hallway, I could hear movement upstairs, possibly someone at the rear of the villa. The next two rooms were deathly quiet, no one home, and I reached the terrace and its broken glass, smoke wafting, two bodies, sounds coming from behind a door up ahead. Glass crunched under foot.
Tucking myself behind a solid wall I put four rounds through the door, high up. Screams rose up, but no fire came back. Rifle down, I pulled out my pistol and a spare mag for my left hand, stood up and inched forwards, sounds still coming from upstairs. And I was still crunching that damn glass underfoot.
A quiet crack from upstairs and I froze against a wall, a second crack, then it fell quiet. Rushing to the door, my back against the wall, I listened. Turning the door handle, I pushed open the door, screams and pleas rising in Spanish.
In English, I said, ‘Women and children, come out, go out the front door and run. Do so now and you won’t be hurt.’
After a moment’s hesitation an old lady ran past, two middle-aged women on her heels and three shrieking girls.
I clicked on the radio. ‘Women running out, leave them.’
When the clatter of shoes on tiles had abated, I nosed into the kitchens, peering through a crack in the wall. Knelt down, I checked under the large central table and edged inside, not hearing anyone.
Pulling a smoke grenade, I tossed it in and to the far end, and waited.
A cough. Movement.
I backed away and waited, soon a burst of fire coming out the door. I groaned, as if hit, and dropped, to make a sound like I was hit. And I waited, pistol levelled on the door as the smoke escaped and swirled.
Movement, a pair of feet seen. I estimated where the body belonging to those feet would be and fired three times, a cry issued, pans displaced and clattering, and a thud as the body hit. Easing up, I put two rounds into him, then backed away from the smoke, reclaiming my rifle as Three and Four came down the stairs.
‘Clear up there?’ I asked.
‘Yes.’
‘Call the boss, let him know,’ I suggested as I pulled off my facemask, taking in the splendid villa and its ornate vases.
They pulled of facemasks to reveal sweat-covered faces and matted hair, and No. Three lifted the house phone, smiling as he reported our success. Phone down, he said, ‘Boss is on his way, he wants to keep this place.’
‘Best move some bodies first,’ I quipped.
Stepping into a study, I tried all the drawers and cabinets, finding a locked cabinet, the lock soon shot off. Inside I found four large holdalls and placed them on a red rose-wood desk as Three and Four stepped in. Opening the bags, we found US dollars, millions.
‘Nice haul,’ I quipped. ‘You should ask the boss for a half day tomorrow and twenty dollars for beer!’
They laughed hysterically as they lifted out thick wads of dollars.
Forty-five minutes later jeeps approached, reported by our tree sniper, and Tomsk stepped down from a jeep as I stood on the front steps, four open bags of cash at my feet.
He put his nose in each.
‘Load them up to take back,’ I suggested as his men closed in. ‘We haven’t searched every room, you can do that.’
‘I’m going to keep this place,’ he suggested, taking in the columns of the double front doors. ‘I always liked this villa.’ Turning to me, he said, ‘Anyone wounded?’
‘No, your lads did well.’
He raised a finger. ‘With you ... they did well.’ He grabbed two thick wads and handed them to me. ‘Now you can buy your own shirt.’
I smiled as his men took the heavy cash bags. ‘Maybe two.’
Bob’s assistant knocked and entered. Bob looked up from a file and waited. The man began, ‘Last night our good friend Petrov led a raid on the villa of a Colombian, Pablo Depasquale, that villa now in the possession of Tomsk. Our man listened to the drunken banter, and they found many large bags of cash at the villa, now with Tomsk.’
‘And Depasquale?’
‘Dead, and all his men.’
‘One less gangster out there,’ Bob quipped.
‘Wilco ... has strengthened the hand of Tomsk?’
‘Gaining his confidence till he has a complete picture,’ Bob suggested. ‘And if, in the meantime, Wilco kills off a few drug barons, then great.’
‘What do we report?’
‘Nothing, for now,’ Bob insisted. ‘Nothing in the files, I’ll chat to the powers direct.’
I had slept-in after much beer, something of a party held the night before, and I spent a few hours sunbathing, or swimming in the well-maintained twenty metre pool.
Sat on the terrace under a shade, cold beer in hand, Tomsk came out and sat next to me. I turned my head. ‘Find any more money at that place?’
‘Yes, a great deal. It will come in handy, and I left a little something in your room. You ... could have killed my men and taken it.’
I took in the view. ‘And do what with it? I don’t know who to trust in this country. Besides, I have money.’
‘You do?’
‘I have three million in various banks, but I’ve not touched it in ten years.’
‘Then you don’t do this for the money...’
I made a face. ‘I’m not sure why I do it. But then ... when the police get close I make a big effort to get away, get some more money, then I relax again.’
‘But you are not happy ... when you are relaxed.’
I shook my head. ‘No.’
‘You like the pressure and the risk.’
‘Maybe.’
‘Could you do another
job tonight?’
‘Sure,’ I said, the first thing that came to mind, since I could hardly refuse, and I had no particular plan here.
‘Another villa, a few miles away. Get some sleep first.’
At 9pm we were driven out, kitted out again, plenty of ammo and grenades, my team confident, two extra men in our ranks, but they were not dressed as if off to war.
A twenty minute ride around in a wide circle and we halted, down and out, all round defence as the jeeps drove off. I placed the two new guys in the bushes and told them to watch this road in case we were circled. Penetrating dark dense jungle, I led my team down a gentle slope.
‘Fingers off triggers,’ I called, and I could hear laughter.
Finding a track we followed it for a while, but then cut across a golf course, at least a very small one. We passed tennis courts and came up behind the villa, cutting back into the jungle.
‘Number Two, Sasha, up this tree, very quiet.’ I knelt in the damp mud, and we covered him as he climbed.
The radio crackled on. ‘OK, I’m up, good view of the villa, I can see three sides. There are four men, two dogs.’
‘Maximum distance for a shot?’
‘Three hundred at most.’
‘OK, warn us if you see movement,’ I transmitted as I led the last two off. Finding high ground and a tall tree, I sent up Three, and we covered him as he climbed, our man not quite as quiet as I might have liked.
‘OK, I’m up, I can see the front and side, fuck all else, and the road.’
I led Four off, down to the road and over, slowly through thick jungle and around, now at the front of the villa, its lawns as brightly lit as the previous target villa.
Finding a suitable tree I sent Four up, and I covered him, moving off when he was ready, a long arc around the lawns and to the opposite side, a tree selected after I left a few false trails past it. By time I got up the tree I was sweating, but I found a good hollow some thirty feet up.
‘OK, sound off.’
‘Two here.’
‘Three here.’
‘Four here.’
