Wilco- Lone Wolf 18

by Geoff Wolak

  ‘Why you in early?’ she asked.

  ‘Job on, I’m passing messages to the Americans.’

  ‘Nothing written down,’ she puzzled.

  ‘I wrote it down and then cellotaped it to my chest, for security.’

  She squinted at me and scowled.

  Carlos called me back, the Lobos leadership now in place, at least many of them. I checked my watch, no need to call Colonel Mathews.

  Twenty minutes later Carlos was back on. ‘My man watching the Lobos compound got the shock of his life.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘You ask me what happened? It blew up, of course.’

  ‘I meant, was the blast in the right place?’

  ‘Yes, the compound levelled, no one survived. Everyone in Cegali heard it, probably a few windows broken. My man was half a mile away and shocked by it. How much explosives did you use?’

  ‘It was not me, that was an American stealth bomber, a 2,000lb bomb.’

  ‘You have an odd relationship with the Americans…’ he noted.

  ‘They want something, you want something, and I want something, and where they overlap we cooperate, a common goal till we go our separate ways again.’

  ‘Strange bedfellows for an hour, eh.’

  ‘Not so strange, when you look at the big picture. Ask Miguel to explain it.’ He swore in Spanish, but I got the gist of it. ‘Goodnight, Carlos the C-E-O.’

  I called Colonel Mathews. ‘It’s Wilco. Target was hit, 100% accuracy, no civilians, no collateral damage.’

  ‘Good to know, I’ll pass it to the White House now.’

  Since few were about and I had nothing to do I went back to my house, sat around for half an hour reading a book, then fell asleep downstairs. I woke when Swifty went for a pee at 6.30am.

  After easing up and yawning I got the kettle on, in need of a stretch and a run.

  After a few laps knocked out whilst half asleep I enjoyed an early breakfast, the canteen bustling, soon to the officers mess as the usual men had breakfast there, their wives not being burdened with getting up early and cooking for their husbands.

  Tinker’s GCHQ team turned up at 10am, down from Cheltenham, some time out the office for them. I showed them around, a view from the barracks roof before they taught a dozen men and officers how to use the scanners. Battery life was an issue, spares to be carried, heavy spares.

  At my suggestion they agreed to have two men travel down with us, and in uniform, both posing as captains since they had been captains in their early careers. Sanderson would provide berets for them. The two men would transport scanners and heavy batteries, and look after the kit down there.

  I asked, ‘If you sat in a Lynx and flew around, would the scanners work?’

  ‘Should do, no microwave bursts from the Lynx to interfere, and a sat phone is distinct in a desert.’

  ‘Then I may send you up to scan the area once a day.’

  ‘What about the lads at Ordnance?’ one of the GCHQ men asked me.

  ‘What about them?’ I puzzled.

  ‘Easy to plant mines in the sand.’

  ‘Yes, but it’s a fucking big area.’

  ‘If mines have been laid somewhere they could help, easy enough to dig up mines in the sand, I’ve seen them do it.’

  I nodded. ‘I’ll make a call.’ I spoke to the Brigadier, and he knew the man to call, and would do so, a team of Ordnance to travel down, some experience for them, some time out the office.

  Crates were being loaded ready in the hangar, bits of kit laid out, Moran often stood staring down at the kit and getting different items sorted. All of our guests now had desert browns and spares, brown cloth, brown facemasks and gloves, so we were making progress.

  More brown Velmets were on their way, and would be under the banner of No.1 Field Recon and not Echo, rifles to be stored in the strong metal sheds, slides in the armoury. The SIS team was now grouped with Sasha’s boys and training hard, team movement tactics and sniping. The newcomers got their hands on an Elephant Gun for the first time, lessons from Nicholson and Swan.

  I granted permission, and metal plates were placed on the new muddy bank around the new assault course after the workers had departed at 4pm, and up on the barracks roof the SIS team sniped at those metal plates, a 1,000yard shot.

  Two of the SIS old timers were naturals, and so would carry Elephant Guns when in Oman.

  I told them, ‘In the desert it’s all about the distance. We can shoot straight at distance, they can’t. And with these long-casing 7.62mm you can destroy a jeep. The fighters are then out and walking home.

  ‘If you come across a mud hut, shoot through the walls, and a brick building or breeze block building is like paper to one of these rifles. If a man is hiding inside a building and shooting out, aim at the wall and he gets some ricochet in the face.

  ‘On a recent job, Nicholson and Tomo shot a hole through the wall of a compound, and the wall came down. Hit a wall with these, and it’s like hitting it with a sledge hammer. Also good against helicopters coming at you. Aim at the pilots.’

  Franks came on at 9pm. ‘White House has admitted to bombing Lobos, the news here is mainlining it, and they already have images of the aftermath. Mexican Government has condemned it, but is talking softly behind closed doors.

  ‘Lobos believed they were safe, their mistake, and one that the cartels won’t make again, so we had our one chance and used it. Mexicans are saying that sixty men were killed, many just drivers and hitmen, but twelve of the so called “lords” were killed, and we know they have sixteen, so that’s a big gap for them. Many lieutenants killed.

  ‘So far there are no claims of civilians in the mix, no women and kids, and the local TV news is not detailing any loss of life other than the cartel. Federales are there, and they’ll use DNA to identify people, some fingerprints to be had.’

  ‘A good job all round then,’ I noted.

  ‘President’s popularity has ticked up, people squarely behind it. I think your buddy Carlos is now No.1 in the region.’

  ‘He’s my next call.’

  With Franks off the phone I called Carlos.

  ‘Ah, Petrov, I was just talking to men in Cegali.’

  ‘Any civilians killed?’

  ‘Only Lobos in the compound, plus drivers of course.’

  ‘How does this leave your position?’

  ‘Many people want to buy from me, and come over to my side.’

  ‘You trust them?’

  ‘Well, up to a point. They won’t be coming here for dinner.’

  ‘Any more information, let me know, we’ll finish off Lobos, and other rivals to you.’

  ‘Good to know, and I buy more from Tomsk now. We are busy.’

  I called Tomsk.

  ‘Ah, Petrov, I am looking good in my club – I tell everyone I got the detail about Lobos and tipped of the Americans.’

  ‘Your secret is safe with me,’ I teased.

  ‘Carlos is No.1 now, those fucking Lobos are not answering the phones!’

  ‘How’s my girl?’

  ‘She is having fun, yes, she had a weekend off, to my hotel in the north, sat around the pool.’

  ‘I’ll have words with her when I see her,’ I threatened. ‘You want to keep her?’

  ‘If I can. Can I … send her to Miami?’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘Someone I want to spy on.’

  ‘She’d be in danger…’

  ‘No one suspects her, she is too small! And she pretends to be drunk like a Hollywood actor!’

  ‘I’ll check with London and let you know, but I think it would be OK.’

  The next day the Brigadier informed me that formal permission and movement orders had been issued by the Cabinet Office and the MOD, and that an RAF supplies team would leave in a few days, a senior officer to be in charge on the ground.

  Billy tentatively asked about going along, but I pointed out that he would just be sat around doing nothing. I could see by
the look on his face that he did not want to go, but figured he should be seen to be volunteering. I asked him to look after the base with Rocko.

  We then received notification that no less than sixty Marines had been assigned, jeeps to be sent by C5, so the Prime Minister was spending some money – a puzzle. I asked the Brigadier to make some calls, and he later confirmed that two large overseas exercises had been cancelled and that the men would be coming with us to Oman instead.

  Fifty Paras were added to the list, their planned exercise also cancelled, the MOD now trying to find enough brown clothing. But being busy at the base had distracted me from the shit in London, and I was soon summoned to appear before the Select Committee. As Sasha put it, I would be in the lion’s den again.

  When Mitch asked for something to do I assigned him the SIS men, and he would lead them in the desert with Greenie. He took them to one side and detailed what he knew about hard long walks in the desert, and the amount of food and water that a man typically uses day to day.

  Late in the day I remembered Tiny, when someone asked about her, so I called David as I stood near the canteen, hand in pocket as teams came and went. ‘I want to keep Tiny with Tomsk a little longer, but he wants her to go spy on someone in Miami.’

  ‘Well, the question is – is she capable of doing that without being caught? If she is, then she’s material for us. If she gets caught, well … we hope she doesn’t.’

  ‘So we test her and see. She either ends up as a top agent, or … shot dead and left floating in the ocean.’

  ‘Might be hard to explain that to 14 Intel.’

  ‘I’d make it look like a car accident, don’t worry.’

  I called Tomsk and he would get Tiny to call me, when she was not sunbathing around the pool.

  She called me half an hour later. ‘Right Boss?’

  ‘Getting a tan?’

  ‘All over, even up my bum crack.’

  ‘That … was more detail than I needed.’ She laughed. ‘Tomsk wants you to go to Miami, a spy job. Do you think you are up to it?’

  ‘Definitely.’

  ‘If they catch you..?’

  ‘And if they catch me doing a job for 14 Intel? Same risk, but this way I plan it, not some twat of a dickless captain in 14 Intel planning it. No one back in the UK knows apart from you, so they can’t leak it.’

  ‘And are you … tucking away a little cash for yourself?’

  ‘Well … I may have tripped across some and kept it, some unclaimed jewels.’

  ‘Good for you. Be careful in Miami, I’m off to start a war for a few weeks, your lot coming along.’

  ‘Where you off?’

  ‘Yemen.’

  ‘Fuck that, Miami is much better – it has cocktail bars!’

  ‘Stick to your strengths, girl.’

  Bob Staines called a few minutes later.

  I began. ‘Hey No.1, how goes the evil enterprise?’

  ‘These days I’m a stock market trader more than spy chief, making money. Still, money greases the wheels.’

  ‘That it does, yes.’

  ‘Reason for the call, Tomsk wants a few people found and dealt with…’

  ‘Fine, so long as those people are not useful to our own Intel agencies or NATO countries. Check first before you just shoot someone.’

  ‘That was the concern here, that we check them first. If it’s a Russian casino owner or gun runner – fine, but if it’s someone else I may discuss them with you first.’

  ‘What type of people are on the list?’

  ‘Mostly Russians, some east Europeans. I would have checked them out first anyhow, some research for a team before they move on someone.’

  ‘Perhaps you could ask the teams to make it look like an accident, or to inject them under their hair with antifreeze, Tomsk likes that method.’

  ‘OK, makes it easier, no murder investigation. Oh, caught up with that chap in South Africa, but he jumped off a tall tower.’

  ‘Question is, Bob: did he jump or was he pushed?’

  ‘I’m leaning towards pushed.’

  ‘And people linked to the bank?’ I asked.

  ‘Still a handful out there, hiding.’

  ‘And the Belgian police investigation?’

  ‘They’re keeping it quiet, pressure from the rich families of dead rich men.’

  ‘That works for us,’ I commended.

  ‘The building was demolished, the bank accounts all transferred to another bank. And Leon has bought up a few of their assets.’

  ‘I’m off to Yemen for a few weeks.’

  ‘Nice place. Will your hotel have a pool?’

  ‘I’m leaning towards no pool.’

  Friday afternoon, and men were watching a one hour documentary in turns, twenty or thirty in the briefing room at a time, a documentary about camels in Yemen – shot in the particular wadi I was interested in.

  After one showing, Nicholson noted, ‘Really beautiful place, I love the deserts, all clean and clear, no people, no bustle.’

  ‘If one camel train meets another head on at rush-hour it’s manic, often a punch up,’ I told him, making him laugh.

  ‘They stop when they meet a stranger and have a party, it’s so rare to see another living being.’

  Sergeant Major Robby was making his presence felt with the Wolves, organising training and shouting at people, he and Rocko sometimes seen comparing clipboards in front of the hangar.

  Friday night the local pub was busy, armed police and MPs outside just in case. Sat in the busy bar, I asked Swifty, ‘How’re the Wolves?’

  ‘They all have a good attitude, no hassles, no bitching at each other. Some of the British lads are still a bit odd, a bit introverted at times. Crack a joke and they don’t quite know how to take it.’

  ‘They were recruited for that fact.’

  He nodded and sipped his beer as Rocko, Monster and Rizzo loudly debated something. ‘They all shoot well, fit with it.’

  ‘The Americans?’

  ‘Solid bunch, and I think Camel Toe Base changed them, the maturity level is up, and you don’t see them looking worried or keen, more like our lot these days.’

  ‘That’s not good, I preferred the keen young men,’ I quipped.

  ‘What happened to the tasty bird, Tiny?’

  ‘On a job, top secret.’

  He shot me a worried look. ‘You gunna get her killed?’

  I shrugged. ‘If 14 Intel send her someplace undercover? Same risks, but as she said to me – no wanker of a captain in 14 Intel is planning her missions, she’s doing it herself.’

  ‘I spoke to those captains, and if I was in a bad spot I’d not want them with me…’

  We exchanged a look as I considered that.

  I noted, ‘So they need work. We’ll give them some hardships, see how they do.’

  When Moran sat with me a little later, Ginger sliding in with two fresh pints, I said to Moran, ‘Swifty has doubts about those two captains in 14 Intel.’

  ‘So do I,’ Moran noted. He turned to Ginger and waited.

  Ginger began, ‘They have no experience, and as you say about the young Wolves – the danger matures them. They need some time in a muddy hole being shot at. Their attitude is OK, they’re keen to prove themselves, so … just need that campaign to settle them.’

  ‘And are you settled?’ I asked him.

  ‘Couldn’t imagine going back,’ he told me. ‘If I left here … fuck knows what I would do, but I’d not back to where I was - filling in forms.’

  I faced Moran. ‘You could be a major by now…’

  He shrugged as he sipped his drink. ‘And filling in forms, yes. Can’t imagine doing anything else, you ruined me.’

  ‘What happened to that nice girl you were going to marry?’

  He shot me a look. ‘That was your fault,’ he teased. ‘Got me wounded on the first job, exposed me to the excitement, and that changed me – and she saw it. She asked me to take a desk job, but I said no.’


  ‘And if it had been you losing a leg on that French carrier..?’

  Moran considered that. ‘I wouldn’t want to kill anyone, or end my life. He had issues, not just his marriage.’

  Salome came in, a warm coat on, but eased it off, just a t-shirt underneath, no bra, boobs swaying as she walked over in tight jeans, the lads all eyeing her but not trying it on, all aware that she had thrown Tomo over a table.

  She squeezed in, her arse in Ginger’s face then Moran’s face, grins badly hidden as we made room.

  ‘Major,’ I offered as she sat.

  She tried some of my beer. ‘When do we fly?’

  ‘Not booked it yet, maybe next weekend. Got anywhere to be?’

  ‘No,’ she said defensively.

  Moran risked, ‘No man waiting for you?’

  ‘No woman waiting for you?’ she retorted. ‘Just you and your warm hand in bed?’

  Ginger told me, ‘I love it when she talks dirty,’ as Moran grinned.

  ‘You need a life,’ she told Ginger.

  Ginger retorted, ‘And you need to stop enjoying the attention your boobs get you, and develop a personality.’

  I laughed loudly as she considered hitting Ginger, teeth gritted, Moran easing back out the way. I put an arm around her to stop her moving. ‘Some might think we’re a couple, but I’m trying to stop her killing one my staff. Ginger, play nicely.’

  ‘I will if she will,’ he offered, Rocko shooting me a puzzled look as I sat with an arm around Salome.

  ‘Looks kind of natural,’ Moran noted.

  ‘Feels good,’ I told him. ‘I need a woman to warm my bed.’

  ‘You show no interest in me,’ she noted.

  I told her ear, but loud enough for Moran and Ginger to hear, ‘After Yemen you’ll be released, so then we can see if you’re any good in bed.’

  ‘Released?’

  ‘To do other things, important things, not just hang around this base.’

  ‘You’ll send me away?’

  ‘Since you won’t tell me the real reason you’re here, I have no choice.’

  ‘I am conducting a survey, the masturbating habits of British soldiers.’

  ‘We’ll contribute,’ Ginger offered as Moran choked up his drink. ‘Left handed and right handed.’