Wilco- Lone Wolf 18

by Geoff Wolak

  ‘Got a clean shot?’

  ‘No, they’re dug in.’

  ‘Up to you and Rizzo, but you could wait till dawn and shoot them, or get a man close and hit them fast.’

  ‘I say we go now, before my cock freezes off!’

  ‘Your call, sort it with Rizzo, but no risks. And I want phones and IDs, and if you get a wounded fighter I want him alive.’

  Off the phone, I faced the sleepy men. ‘We’ve surrounded the fighters but they’re dug in, so my men will make an assessment and then hit them.’

  Half an hour later an out-of-breath Swifty came on. ‘We snuck around and hit them quickly, none left alive. They were in a trench that was a straight line almost, so we fired up the trench – they had nowhere to hide. Got sat phones and IDs.’

  ‘What weapons did they have?’

  ‘Some AK47, some VEPR, couple of RPG. They wouldn’t have got far attacking us.’

  ‘Come back in, speed march to stay warm. Torches on!’

  Phone down, I faced the men as they now keenly stood around the map table. ‘All dead, and … light weapons only, so … I’m disappointed. They flew low-level to get here, good, walked in and dug in, good, then … half a plan to attack us with light weapons.’

  ‘Or a recon team without a clue,’ Franks suggested.

  ‘Those that need to sleep, go to bed, fuck all happening,’ I encouraged them, and men filed out. I got the coffee on as the next shift of Intel captains took over.

  Haines called half an hour later, also out of breath. ‘We found them, shot them.’

  ‘Be careful moving forwards, double tap. I want phones and IDs, maybe wait till dawn if they’re wounded and hidden.’

  ‘Hardly, they were up and walking in a line towards us, open area, embarrassing it was.’

  ‘You’re professionals, they’re not. Get me those phones, stay with the bodies till jeeps come out to get them in the morning. And Mister Haines, were you … in the thick of the action?’

  ‘I … was,’ he hesitantly replied.

  ‘And your fiancé..?’

  ‘Won’t get to hear about it; she’s more dangerous than these fighters.’

  ‘We have reporters with us,’ I cautioned. ‘And don’t get wounded, be hard to explain it to the poor girl.’

  I faced the Intel team and they updated contact sheets just before an excited Omani captain ran in and saluted.

  ‘Sir, two trucks, south at the checkpoint, they both exploded when shot at, the road blocked.’

  I faced the team. ‘So the plan was … ram the front gate, maybe ram an expensive plane, make some noise - for when the two teams snuck in.’

  ‘As good as amateurs might come up with,’ a captain noted.

  I nodded. ‘Call GL4 with an update, same for London, I’m off to bed for a few hours.’

  I woke two hours later as Swifty and Rizzo arrived back, making a noise. They found a warm billet, coal burners at both ends, and started to bitch and complain at length till I told them to shut up. After a warm brew they bedded down fully clothed.

  I woke as the grey light seeped in through the windows and I went for a pee, soon sneaking out quietly, a frosty sheen found on the jeep glass.

  In the Intel room I found the same men, a tea handed to me, plus a sandwich. ‘Anything?’ I asked.

  ‘No further action, and we’ll send out jeeps soon to get the bodies, Paras will go out. We have the sat phones and IDs, London updated.’

  ‘Good.’ I ate the sandwich and sipped the tea, slowly waking up and feeling better as the new day brightened.

  At a respectable time I called Prince Kalid. ‘Can you talk, sir?’

  ‘Yes, I am in the car.’

  ‘Four days ago a transport plane crash-landed in the wadi near here, and forty Islamic fighters walked off it without injury. They split up and approached this base, but we saw the tracks and found them, all killed, but they rammed the south gate and blew themselves up, no one hurt.’

  ‘They crossed our borders?’

  ‘Yes, sir, three days ago, and we crossed their borders yesterday, so you could say that we went looking for them after they breached the border, spin it in the press.’

  ‘I will,’ he threatened. ‘They are not allowed to cross my border! How is it going there?’

  ‘We got here two days ago, SAS now driving west down the wadi, and teams will insert today, some action tonight maybe, sir.’

  ‘I will visit when I can,’ he promised. ‘My men are performing well?’

  ‘Yes, sir, no problems so far.’

  ‘Good.’

  Inside, I asked, ‘Where’s Max?’

  ‘He went in with the SAS.’

  ‘He did? That little shit, he never asked me about that.’

  I stepped around to 14 Intel, assigning Henri, Sambo and Stretch to them, and they would get some laps in and some range time.

  The Paras drove out in two directions, bodies brought back in wrapped in ponchos and lined up ready for the Omani police to photograph. When all the bodies had been laid out on the apron the Marine Press officers took snaps and the RAF video team filmed the scene.

  Rallying the British Wolves and Swifty after 2pm, the men having caught up on some sleep, they checked kit and replenished ready under Robby’s oversight. In the command room I showed Swifty the map. ‘Go southwest a few miles and you’ll hit the road. Stay at least four hundred yards from the road, but follow it to the border and go over without being seen.

  ‘Then follow it slowly southwest, but out of sight, so move at night maybe or keep your distance. Work on the assumption that someone is dug in observing that road, so find them and shoot the fuckers. If you think they’re up a hill, go around and have a look – send a team.

  ‘If and when you find a good spot with a good view, put four men up there and leave them for a few days. Split your teams, and have some on the south side of the road, but avoid all civilians by a good margin, a mile or two – no contact. In fact, take Mitch and his team with Greenie, put them south of the road after you cross the border.

  ‘Take backpacks and plenty of supplies, but I can have supplies dropped by Lynx.’ I faced Harris. ‘Spare maps?’

  He had several photocopies of the immediate area, complete with grid lines.

  I told Swifty, ‘You don’t need a map other than to give us coordinates – there’s only one road for a hundred miles in any direction!’

  ‘What about radio scanners?’ he complained.

  ‘Ah, I’d forgotten about them.’ I went next door and found the two GCHQ captains that had been put back in uniform. ‘Show my men how to use the scanners again, issue them.’

  ‘Your Wolves all had the training, the British lads.’

  ‘Good, issue scanners to them now, a quick refresher before they leave.’

  ‘Can I go along?’ Robby asked.

  ‘No, you lost that privilege when you got promoted. You train and you organise, you don’t get wounded.’

  He walked off sulking.

  Grabbing the American Wolves officers and NCOs, I walked around to the billet with them, shouting at the American Wolves to form up, backpacks on, supplies topped up, extra water to be carried, extra ammo.

  When they were ready, and formed up into teams of four, I handed out radio scanners and map photocopies, but we also had a dozen large-scale maps to use.

  ‘OK, listen up. Southwest of us is a road, only one road, no other roads – not a one. The SAS drove due west to the border yesterday across the sand, twenty miles, then north to the wadi, then west down the wadi.

  ‘Four miles northwest of here we found a group of fighters and shot them, there are tracks, don’t get confused by them. At the border are 2 Squadron RAF Regiment, jeep and foot patrols, so don’t shoot at each other.

  ‘First team, you go down the road due south, say hello to the Omanis. When you get to the burnt-out vehicles you go due south across the desert, ten miles, twenty, up to you, have a look around for tracks, report what
you see, then walk back – eyes open.

  ‘Second team, south down the road to those trucks, then on bearing 225, same deal.

  ‘Third team, from here follow bearing 240. There are British Wolves southwest, moving southwest, so slow up if you see them, don’t be fooled by their tracks.

  ‘Fourth team, bearing 250, out two nights and back, three nights out maximum. Fifth team, bearing 260. Team Six, bearing 270, and Team Six, you might hit small hills after two days walk.

  ‘Now, you’re all fit, so I expect you to set a record with how far and how fast you walk. Those heading west, the border is twenty miles, so reach it after dark and keep walking, it will be cold as hell later. Stop at dawn and get a brew on.

  ‘All of you, check personal radios, check sat phones before you leave, have one man with the large water container, but don’t worry about water, it’s cold as hell twelve hours a day. If you have sleeping bags take them, and two ponchos. Best to sleep in the middle of the day, man on stag.

  ‘If you come across Arab fighters, report it, shoot at them from distance, don’t get close in and don’t mix it up. If you have injured men call it in, we can have a Lynx to you quickly. You’ve done this all before, it’s all routine, and I have no worries about you lot - apart from shagging some camels.’

  They laughed, in good spirits and confident, and looking just like Echo men.

  ‘OK, when you have all you need … move out, names to the officers per team, then off you go.’

  Back inside, Kovsky told me, ‘SEALs will insert soon, daylight landing, but … it’s an empty wasteland anyhow.’

  ‘They’ll fly a dog-leg route?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘How many men to set down?’

  ‘About thirty.’

  ‘When they’re down, get me the man in charge on the phone to me.’

  I detailed the compass bearings and Wolf teams for Harris, notes placed on the west side of the map till the Omani major appeared, green plastic toy soldiers in hand, the models an inch tall.

  I told Harris, ‘We have the southwest and the west covered in case there are other fighters out there. That first lot got here in a crashed transport flying low, so … I doubt we’ll get any more visitors like that. Aircraft are expensive items, and I doubt the owner of that plane knew what it would be used for.’

  Kovsky told me, ‘Navy blew it to pieces an hour ago.’

  I faced Harris, and sighed theatrically, my hands slapping my sides. ‘Fucking Greenpeace will give us a tonne of shit when they see the mess we’ve made in the sand.’

  ‘Could clean it up after the fighting ends,’ Harris suggested.

  ‘Like fuck, there were mines around it, some could be live. And now that there’s metal scattered far and wide we can’t use metal detectors.’ I stopped dead. ‘Hang on, where’re the ordnance lads?’

  ‘In with the Paras, tents at the north end,’ he informed me.

  ‘Bugger, I forget to say hello.’

  The SEAL team lieutenant called me twenty minutes later. ‘Major Wilco? Lieutenant Kravitz.’ He sounded like a man tabbing at speed, and out of breath.

  ‘You down and walking?’

  ‘We are, and it’s a damn lonely spot, no one around, and we can see for miles.’

  ‘Where are you, exactly?’

  ‘Say eight miles west of the target, wide open sand north of us, low hills south, steep hills say four miles south. We’re moving double-time towards cover, slower towards the target when we get some cover.’

  ‘I was going to insert Green Berets south of the target tomorrow, so they’d be in place by midday.’

  ‘So we can slow up and get good position, scout the area and sneak in.’

  ‘I’ll get you talking to Major Hicks tomorrow, so that you coordinate it. Either you scare them south, or the Greenies make some noise and distract the fighters. Up to you, but either way these are your orders from me – the man in charge on the ground: you keep your distance, you snipe at them, you wear them down, no heroics.

  ‘If we get ten men wounded tomorrow we get the idiot in the White House panicking about his ratings and wanting to pull you out, so we’ll go to great lengths to avoid casualties, and we play to our strengths – distant sniping in the daylight.’

  ‘I understand the politics, I was in Somalia in ’93.’

  ‘Then help me avoid a bad newspaper headline here. Shoot from distance, camouflage yourselves, wait for them to bleed out. It would be nice to get phones off them, and IDs, but not at the cost of a few dead men, so think before moving forwards. And if someone looks dead, shoot again just to be sure, but never admit to that back on ship.’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘Good luck, and … you’ll freeze your nuts off later.’

  ‘We all have warm jackets with us, headgear, we got the warning about the temperature swings.’

  Major Pritchard called in at 5pm. ‘We just halted, made camp, not so much as a randy camel seen, no tracks. It’s a beautiful place, but you’d not want to be out here alone and lost. Bit spooky it is, not much noise save the wind, and no one seen mile after mile.’

  ‘How far are you from the ambush point?’

  ‘About six miles, we made slow progress today, had to double-back in places.’

  ‘So you could be in sight of the ambush … when?’

  ‘Say noon tomorrow, sands permitting.’

  ‘I’ll insert men at dawn, south of the ambush point, and then we’ll coordinate it. The fighters have mounted fifty cal and mortars, so don’t get close, stay spread out. Give me your coordinates.’ He read them out twice. ‘Talk tomorrow.’

  I updated the map, and the sheet for the SAS.

  Major Hicks asked, ‘What you got for us?’

  ‘Are they rested?’

  ‘More or less, kit is ready, browns on.’

  ‘Then I’ll drop them in teams after sun-up tomorrow, a ten mile walk to reach the target. Tell them to eat well and sleep well tonight, be no quality sleep after they insert.’

  I walked to the billet and roused the Echo lads, telling them they would insert at dawn, and to be ready an hour before dawn – 5am, supplies for three days in the sand. Sat on a bed with Moran, Ginger, Rizzo and Slider, I showed them the map.

  ‘SAS regulars are here, moving west down the wadi. Ambush is here, a hundred fighters, fifty cal, mortars. You land south ten miles and walk up double-time, SAS to distract the fighters around noon.

  ‘As you walk up the track you might trip across fighters, kill them quietly. When you get close to the wadi, split up left and right, go through the rocks, coordinate it, surprise them if you can.

  ‘Don’t get close, keep your distance, hidden, sniping at them, wear them down, but after they’re all dead we want IDs and phones. And they might scatter, and it’s a big old area to chase after them.’

  Slider noted. ‘We could have five teams of four just about, spread out in a half-circle south, catch them as they run.’

  ‘Sure, up to you. When done, north into the wadi but watch for mines. In fact, no, go south and we’ll get a Puma in, they might have put some mines next to their position in the wadi.’

  ‘And the Regulars?’ Rizzo asked. ‘They’ll drive over them mines!’

  ‘No, because it’s two miles wide and they’ll stay north. Can’t mine two miles of sand, maybe the first fifty yards.’

  A call of my name, and I stepped out, Commander Phillips from the Lynx squadron. ‘We have the flare kits, been up and tried them – fortunately no forest to set alight below us just sand.’

  ‘Then tomorrow I’ll assign you a dangerous job. And tomorrow we’ll have teams in action, so ready four Lynx to go, two for casevac, three Pumas to go. I’ll want all three Puma to insert men at dawn, Lynx top cover.’

  ‘I’ll get them sorted now, they’re itching for something to do.’

  ‘Then let’s hope they don’t get an RPG in the side or a missile up the arse then.’

  ‘Well, that would be a loud
conversation with my boss, yes – no tax-free bonus. I’ll warn them all now about the dangers.’

  ‘There’s mounted fifty cal where the action will be tomorrow, so they’ll need their eyes open.’

  He followed me back to the HQ room and I detailed the Puma insert. ‘I can’t tell you where to set down because I need you to use your eyes and to pick a good spot, no fighters nearby. Later in the day you insert the Green Berets. Go tell the medics that tomorrow noon will see shots fired in anger, so they may get a wounded man brought in.’

  He headed off, the RAF film team asking if they could fly out on a Lynx. I said to the officer, ‘If the Lynx gets hit by an RPG, and you head towards the rocks at a hundred miles an hour, you’ll have just two seconds to consider the wisdom of your actions.’

  The officer stared back, now worried. ‘Well … yes. Right.’

  ‘I’ll leave it up to you, it’s your life to lose.’

  Hicks faced the officer. ‘Pen a letter home first, leave it with us.’

  The Wolves reported in as we lost the light, Swifty calling in, traffic seen, no fighters seen. Today he had on a t-shirt, shirt and jacket, facemask and gloves. He was going to stay warm.

  The Paras and Marines senior staff drove over, a check of their mission for the morning.

  ‘You leave at first light, 6.30am,’ I told them. ‘You can both go at the same time, but tonight you need to pick teams to place along the route, say every ten miles. Those teams watch the wadi, and patrol on foot, so I’d say at least six men per team, and supplies with them.

  ‘We’ll then set-up a supply chain from here, as well as pallet drops. But the pallet drops will be for one or two places, supplies driven east and west afterwards, or we have the Lynx drop-and-go at each place.

  ‘Eight miles in is a plane blown to pieces, avoid it, stay well north. Here, thirty miles in, is an ambush camp of fighters, and we’ll hit them tomorrow. Drive north past them, don’t go down this track - it will be mined.

  ‘SAS are ahead of you, and after you spread along the wadi there’s a good chance of happening across a group of fighters. If we’re happy with the wadi and the areas around it you can move up for the main action.’ I tapped the map. ‘The hills here.