by Geoff Wolak
‘By dawn there'll be a few ships offshore, and Deltas are in a plane and will land in Belize soon, along with an FBI team, some CIA men. Colonel on his way to you, more Marines.’
‘This colonel, is he going to be in my way?’
‘He'll be in charge of US forces on the ground there, you're his advisor.’
‘Sounds like a screw-up waiting to happen.’
‘Pentagon is running things, and it’s a serious escalation. Play nicely, eh.’
‘This colonel won't understand my relationship with the Panama Government, or Tomsk, or my intel sources.’
‘Brief him. He has been briefed on you, and this guy is tipped for the top; he knows how the CIA work, he's done the courses.’
‘His name?’
‘DeHavilland, like the plane maker.’
‘Any relation to them?’
‘Yes, but way back.’
I called Miller's number and he called me back. ‘You know a Colonel DeHavilland?’
‘We do, and we like him.’
‘He's one of yours?’
‘Not directly, but he thinks the right way.’
‘What do I say to him?’
‘You can trust him with the intel. He's been given classified details before and never revealed them, and he likes the CIA. As a captain he was running a Marines field intel unit, time with the SEALs. He's gung-ho, and he'll love you.’
‘OK, I won't shoot him then.’
As soon as I cut the call it trilled. ‘Captain Thornton, and we have twelve damp prisoners, all searched and trussed up, the Santa Maria heading for the depths so someone will have an insurance claim.’
‘I suggest you check with the Admiralty and Cabinet office, then drop those men off in Panama, sir; they have jurisdiction, their territorial waters.’
‘I'll check, yes.’
‘Then stay on station in that area, in case of more nasty surprises, sir.’
‘You think there could be others?’
‘We need to be certain, sir. Take no chances, stay at General Quarters.’
After we lost the light, the airport main lights still working apart from the south end, a Hercules lined up and came in, a screech of rubber, soon taxiing around to us.
I stepped down and met Major Morgen on the apron, the terminal now quieter without the medics, and there was more space, the pig pens now displaying sandbags. Three Seahawks had gone back to ship, so we had more space and fewer people.
From the ramp a line of Marines appeared, a confident tall Colonel striding over, younger than I figured he would be. His hair was brown not grey, and he offered a pleasant handsome face which had never been punched.
I could see that he had two captains with him, plus a nice lady lieutenant in uniform. Behind them trailed Marines with large backpacks.
Morgen saluted, and I followed suit since I had a soft cap on.
‘So, you must be the infamous Wilco.’ We shook. ‘You look like that actor in the film, same kit and rifle.’
‘I should be on a commission, sir,’ I told him, making him smile. ‘This is Major Morgen.’
The Colonel cheekily asked me, ‘And how has the major been organising things around here?’
I glanced at Morgen. ‘Better than I would have expected. If I'm in the shit … I want him next to me.’
‘A glowing recommendation if ever I heard one.’
Hispanic Major Spencer stepped out, and saluted.
I began, ‘This is Major Spencer, a GI father, and this is his country we're stood in, we're guests here.’
The Colonel took my meaning, and studied me for a moment. He shook hands with Spencer. ‘Thanks for your assistance here, Major. Any of your men hurt?’
‘Some small wounds, and they all soiled their trousers, sir. It has been a loud two days.’
‘So I've been getting the reports on.’
I told the Colonel, ‘If you have your men wait inside, sir, and after I give you the ten dollar tour we can disperse them.’
I led him up onto the roof, his team following – even the lady, and I detailed the existing dispositions and the action so far.
He finally said, ‘Jesus, all that in two days. And you've made a mess here, Major.’
‘We promised the airport manager we'd leave it as we found it, sir.’
He laughed. ‘And the story behind the story?’
I led him away, his aides left behind. ‘How much do you know, sir?’
‘That things are never quite what they seem, especially when it comes to you. I noticed with interest that they had your character in that film on the phone all the time.’
‘My phone does all the important work, sir.’
‘A direct line to the CIA and the Pentagon. Not even I have that.’
I took in the helos below us. ‘There's a history you don't know. I work undercover some of the time, and I've penetrated the Russian arms dealers at a high level. I've also worked closely with the government here against the FARC in the south and … on other projects. I have a direct line to them as well, and they do as I ask.’
‘Impressive. And the real story here...’
‘The Tiujana Cartel are linked to the Medellin Cartel, and they want to move aside a Russian drug dealer down here and take his lucrative territory, the missiles to be used to kill his head of security and then blow up his villa – and they did blow up his villa.’
‘Was he in it at the time?’
‘No, we got him out.’
‘Ah. And why the hell would you do that?’
‘The White House and the CIA struck a deal with him. Better the devil you know.’
‘They … tolerate him?’
‘We … tolerate him, and we … put him in place. A large part of the vital regional intel that we get comes from him.’
‘Ah.’ He nodded. ‘The drugs trade will always be with us, so if you can't beat them … you may as well influence them and get something. I take it he'll never be arrested.’
‘Never.’
‘So the cartels were not trying to kill US servicemen, we were just caught in the way.’
‘The man behind the rockets, sir, former Russian defector Terotski, climbed up out his grave and now wants to hurt America and Britain.’
‘A double agent?’
‘A sole agent, with attitude, sir. No ties to Moscow we can see.’
‘But when he was with the Soviets..?’
‘A missile designer.’
‘So … maybe a trip to North Korea.’
‘Probable, sir.’
‘And his role with the cartels?’
‘To help them grab this territory, and to do that you need big powerful accurate missiles, because getting close to the drug lord would be hard.’
‘He would have eyes everywhere, strangers seen. So a big missile fired when he was asleep would do it.’
‘They fired and missed him, today, from a ship off the coast that my Navy just sank, twelve prisoners taken.’
‘And this FBI guy, Manstein?’
‘Currently having his fingernails removed in a Panama City jail. His wife and daughter both have terminal cancer, so he decided he didn't like the world any longer and sided with the cartels and Terotski.’
‘But … money won't save his family?’ he puzzled.
‘No, sir, this was about anger.’
‘So, I guess he had issues with those above him. So why the missiles aimed here?’
‘I'm the drug lord's head of security.’
He frowned at me. ‘Petrov?’
I nodded.
‘Jesus...’ He shook his head. ‘World's most wanted.’
‘Backstory was created by the CIA, most is bullshit.’
‘You shot up the drug gangs around here.’
‘Yes, sir, and put the particular drug lord, Tomsk, where he is.’
‘I've read up on him. He builds schools around here.’
‘He loans the government here money.’
‘So they don't dare
upset him. You hit the FARC as well.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Busy boy, aren't you. So what comes next?’
‘Your SEALs raid a small island off Belize at dawn, and they might find Terotski in his pyjamas. After that, we do what the White House wants, we hit the cartels and get some good TV minutes.’
‘Already got some good TV minutes, it’s solid on all channels. And further attacks here?’
‘Terotski is a thinker, and he came close to killing us all, so I don't think he's done yet. And as for this drug territory, they won't give up trying to take it anytime in the next hundred years.’
‘And the CIA will want to stop them, their chosen man in place here, a status quo, schools built, intel gained.’
‘Yes, sir.’
He nodded. ‘You hit Lobos as well.’
‘Yes, sir, and gained valuable new intel sources.’
‘I was shocked when the White House gave permission to bomb them. Happy, but shocked they'd actually do it.’
‘Cartels have grown big, and are diversifying.’
‘Into terrorism, yes. Still, Escobar brought down a plane just to piss of the Colombian Government, and he set off bombs, so I guess it’s a small step from drug dealing to terrorism.’
My phone trilled. ‘Excuse me, sir.’
‘Can you talk?’ came the voice of the minister as I peered down at the helos.
‘Go ahead.’
‘This FBI man, Manstein, wants to make a deal, so he's talking. He mentioned the missile on a ship, and the missiles to kill you, and that is correct – he had no access to a TV or radio today. He was working with Terotski for two years, but said some odd things – that you are a major in the British army, a British spy.’
‘That part is correct.’
‘You … are British?’
‘Yes.’
‘And Tomsk?’
‘Knew all along.’
‘And your strange relationship with the Americans, not so strange now. But what is your purpose in my country?’
‘We built up Tomsk, a hope that we could control the drugs trade, stop the killings, reduce the crime, get information on other drug gangs. And we've achieved all of that, we brought peace.’
‘I cannot disagree with that. My god, you are a good actor.’
‘I hope you are discreet, Minister.’
‘I would not wish Tomsk as an enemy, nor you. And you have brought peace, yes.’
‘What else did Manstein say?’
‘He was working with a man he knew from long ago, DEA man Frank.’
I sighed out. ‘Thanks. Get Manstein to explain how he contacted Frank. Quickly please.’
‘I ask them now.’
I lowered the phone and sighed. Someone had to plant the transmitter at Tomsk's villa, someone he trusted.
‘Problems?’ the Colonel asked as I stared up at the stars.
‘The FBI agent, Manstien, he confirmed what we already knew, but gave someone else up. Excuse me for a moment, sir.’ I stepped away and called Tomsk. ‘Where at you?’
‘At my hotel?’
‘Which one?’
‘Near La Palma, new hotel.’
‘I got some bad news for you.’
‘What...’
‘It’s DEA Frank.’
After a long pause came, ‘He sold me out?’
‘Looks that way. I'm waiting for definite proof.’
‘No need, someone gave me some evidence and I did not want to believe it. I was foolish, he has been a friend a long time.’
‘Could he get access to the roof at your villa, or second floors?’
‘He stays often.’
‘He planted the transmitter for the missile to lock onto. Unless you can think of someone else that could have done it.’
‘No one, only your people.’
‘Don't kill him yet -'
‘I was a fool, I was warned, but I ignored it, now it makes sense. I make him talk.’
‘And if we're wrong. Wait till morning, isolate him.’
After a pause came, ‘OK, I wait.’
Back with the Colonel I introduced Tomo and Nicholson, the Colonel trying the Elephant Gun and its sight. He ejected a round and had a look at it.
‘Jesus, that would make a mess of a man.’
Tomsk called back. ‘I confronted Frank, said you had this FBI man tortured, and he started crying and said sorry.’
‘Pity.’ I sighed. ‘Money is a great curse.’
‘Not to you, you like a hole in the ground.’
‘What'll you do?’
‘I shot him in the head, over quick, I owed him that.’
‘He knows enough about you to cause problems.’
‘Yes, so I have to change many things. He reported back to Medellin?’
‘Yes. So use that, think what he could have told them, set traps.’
‘I will be busy, I make war on these bastards.’
‘You speak Russian,’ the Colonel noted after I ended the call.
‘And Arabic, sir.’
I called David, getting him at home. ‘Listen, Terotski knew my dual identity, so too Manstein, so did one of Tomsk's trusted helpers that we caught. They know that we prop up Tomsk, so why does the cartel still think it has a chance?’
‘They figured you'd be killed today, along with Tomsk. After that, no reason for us to be involved, and the CIA would not try and replace Tomsk.’
‘They missed me today, they missed Tomsk, so … what comes next?’
‘They'll always covert Tomsk's position, and the money flow, they won't give up.’
‘But does Terotski have more hands to play, or will they pick him up at dawn?’
‘I doubt he's on that island, he hates the heat, so we'll see. But there's a double negative here.’
‘Come again?’
‘Terotski must fully believe, like most scholars of modern history, that if the Americans take casualties they'll be pulled out by the White House. They don't know what your Deep State buddies really want, what the Pentagon hawks really want, and that’s conflict. Terotski is unknowingly giving them exactly what they want, and I doubt he realises that.
‘The more trouble he makes for us, the better, in the eyes of the hawks and the right wing politicians. He thinks he's hurting us, but he could not be more wrong.’
‘True, very true.’
When I re-joined the Colonel he asked, ‘All OK?’
‘That depends, on whether you think coast-to-coast news of this type is good for the military industrial complex, sir.’
He smiled widely, and knowingly, and headed back down with his posse.
I called Tomsk. ‘Have my double dress like me, wear a gun with no ammo, and make yourself seen with him now and then, as if I'm with you.’
‘People fear you, so that will help, yes. He can convince people you are here when you're in Africa or some shit hole.’
‘Keep teaching him Russian.’
‘I will get a teacher.’
‘My girls OK?’
‘They caught a pickpocket. But listen, you take back the Israeli, eh.’
I smiled widely. ‘Send her to me, in uniform. Some dollars for me to use here.’
‘I send her tonight,’ he threatened.
Phone down, Nicholson asked, ‘Good news, Boss? You're smiling.’
‘The drug lord has had enough of Salome, he wants her gone.’
Nicholson laughed and shook his head. ‘Can't imagine her upsetting anyone, she's a female Tomo.’
Downstairs, I got a cup of tea with Moran, Ginger and Morgen.
Morgen noted, ‘You gave me a good write up to the Colonel...’
‘You're about getting the job done, not the size of your pecker. You'd do well in a conflict.’
‘You don't call this a conflict?’
‘No,’ Moran baulked. ‘A conflict is thirty of us and five hundred of them, a running battle for a week. Camel Toe was hard, because we were battling the heat and the sandsto
rm and the huge number of men coming at us. This is easy – we have tea and sandwiches.’
‘Camel Toe looked tough, yeah,’ he agreed. He faced me, ‘I met that colonel once or twice, not much said. How is he?’
‘He's being groomed for the top, but he seems OK. He understands the politics here.’
The new Colonel returned to us alone an hour later. ‘What do you make of the colonel in charge of the medics?’
‘A useless prick, sir.’
He smiled. ‘He complained that he was not prepared.’
‘And there was me thinking you're always supposed to be ready...’
‘We are. So are they … supposedly. And the Navy medics?’
‘Got on and did the job without bitching, sir.’
He nodded, thinking, distracted by a private jet landing. It whined as it taxied around, Salome stepping down with bags, and in uniform.
‘Here comes trouble,’ Moran quipped.
‘Who is she?’ the Colonel asked.
‘A major in Mossad, sir.’
‘Didn't know they were involved here.’
‘She's assigned to me, sir. She does the sexy walks for us.’
Salome came in being stared at as her ride took off. She did not bother to salute the Colonel, and handed me a bag of cash.
I gestured towards the Colonel. ‘Colonel DeHavilland, Marines, now in charge here.’
She glanced at him, disinterested. ‘And does this colonel have anywhere decent to sleep tonight?’
He frowned at her and turned to me.
I told him, ‘Not so much as a camp bed, sir, so … make do.’
Salome faced him. ‘If you have a five star hotel room, I'll share.’
He cocked an eyebrow at her. ‘Thanks for the offer, but I think I'm roughing it. Major.’
I pointed her to the pig pens. ‘The pilots have some mattresses, they might want to share.’
She brazenly walked that way, sauntered that way, and came straight out and loudly asked the pilots who wanted to share his mattress. She got three volunteers and dumped her kit with one.
‘She really don't give a shit, does she,’ the Colonel noted.
Moran told him, ‘Give it an hour, sir, and she'll be walking around naked.’
He faced me.
I began, ‘I take this opportunity to disown her and anything she may say or do, men punched, officers insulted, property damaged, national insults inferred.’