Wilco- Lone Wolf 18

by Geoff Wolak

  ‘The old-style ones, yes.’

  ‘Grab the Omani major, get some men, a jeep, and look for odd signals around us, but not west. When you find some, panic.’ They exchanged looks. ‘And guys, next time … don’t be so dumb as to volunteer for a job like this, eh.’

  With Harris grinning at them they stepped out.

  Franks and Dick stepped in ten minutes later. Franks began, as they sat, ‘Got residue from the explosives on the Cessna, local military police will analyse it. Got some fingers as well, so they can get some prints.’

  ‘Rocket fragments?’

  ‘It’s an old Russian design, but with some modern components, so someone has been tinkering with them. Someone who knows what he’s doing. We’ll have to try and trace the components, not the casing or the fins.’

  I said, ‘An Arab … who trained in Russia.’

  ‘Plenty of those, now retired, sat in cafes in Egypt, Syria and Iraq and lamenting Nasser.’

  I cocked an eyebrow. ‘Not such the lamenting for Nasser, as loud curses.’

  Dick started a loud debate about Nasser’s rise and fall, Harris an expert on that period of history.

  As it started to get dark Moran called in. ‘We’ve worn them down and pushed them back, but they’re surrounded on all sides without realising it. Groups keep sneaking off and running right into us.’

  ‘Can you hear the SAS north?’

  ‘Yes, say 800yards.’

  ‘Wait till dawn, stay put, don’t close in.’ I called Lieutenant Kravitz. ‘You still alive?’

  ‘Yeah, and these ain’t the smartest fellas in the world. We shot at least a hundred, finding it hard to see anyone now.’

  ‘Stay put, wait the dawn, rest and eat, then move in.’

  I called Holsteder. ‘Still earning your keep, Captain?’

  ‘If slaughtering the lambs is gainful employment, yeah.’

  ‘Explain.’

  ‘We killed more wounded than able-bodied men. Still, they had rifles and webbing, no white flags.’

  ‘How many?’

  ‘Say … two hundred.’

  ‘Any wounded?’

  ‘Got some ricochet, but no need for a ride out yet.’

  ‘Hold your position till dawn, then clear the area. Wrap up warm tonight.’

  ‘It’s a damn cold wind, that’s for sure; temperature drops real quick.’

  When Max was up to date I gave him some spin to use, and I detailed the various campaigns and objectives – stretching it a little.

  Later, I told Harris, ‘All teams are holding at the edges, they’ll move in at dawn, we won’t risk close-in fighting at night.’

  Moran called in at 10pm. He shouted, ‘A fucking great big bomb just went off, ten tonnes of explosives!’

  ‘Where?’ I panicked.

  ‘Centre of the camp, killed those fighters left, like some mass suicide. Metal flew out and we got some slight injuries, so the bomb was wrapped in ball bearings or something like that.’

  ‘Well … I … guess they had a plan in case they were overrun.’

  ‘No fucker left alive down there, or if they are they’ll need a hearing aid!’

  ‘Stay at distance.’

  Called ended, it trilled straight away.

  ‘It’s Pritchard, and the camp blew!’

  ‘I just heard from my men. You have wounded?’

  ‘Two wounds that will need a helicopter.’

  ‘Have the wounded men walk due north a mile, with some company for them, I’ll send a Lynx now.’

  ‘OK, sending them soon. And if I’m shouting it’s because my fucking ears have gone!’

  I faced an Intel captain and he checked the map coordinates for the casevac Lynx, soon rushing out. We all heard the engine drone for five minutes before the Lynx sped off west. When it returned I drove over, bright lights found in the medics tent, two troopers being worked on, a head wound and a shoulder with metal shards in it.

  ‘They’ll have to go back,’ Morten told me.

  ‘To Muscat, to a hospital there,’ I told him. ‘Hercules in the morning.’

  ‘They’re stable,’ he assured me.

  I called Kravitz, finding him awake and alert. ‘Listen, camp to the east of you had a booby-trap, two thousand pounds of explosives wrapped in ball bearings.’

  ‘Ouch!’

  ‘We had some men hurt, so warn your guys.’

  ‘I’ll chat to the Greenies as well, they’re on the radio.’

  The command staff settled down, waiting for something to happen, and I slept in a chair in Colonel Clifford’s office, woken at 5am – not so much as a stray camel threatening us overnight.

  Two Hercules landed an hour after dawn, soon offloading pallets in a hurry, and soon keenly powering away from here and not lingering, flying east without incident, wounded “B” Squadron men having been seen loaded on board.

  I called Moran as I stood on the apron, the local police looking tired and wary compared to the first time I had seen them. ‘You all OK out there?’

  ‘Yeah, quiet after that bomb, a few shots fired. Now that’s it light we’re double-tapping and hitting wounded men, a few live ones moving around or hiding.’

  ‘Try and get some IDs and phones, then join with the SAS and use their supplies, then I’ll move you west by helo after a day back here. Get some rest tonight. Oh, tell the SAS to leave the mess behind and to move on west as planned tomorrow.’

  Prince Kalid called me an hour later. ‘There was trouble at the base I heard.’

  ‘Nothing serious, sir. We had some rockets, men walking in to attack us, then some trucks rammed the gate and exploded, a Cessna with a suicide pilot flying in and crashing before he could ram something and explode.’

  ‘Nothing serious? I call that a declaration of war!’

  ‘The fighters have no government to answer to, and the Houthis hate them, so we’re not at war with Yemen, sir. And we started this fight.’

  ‘Still, I am sending more men. Enough training from British Aerospace and your officers, let’s see what they can do!’

  ‘Americans lost an F18 after it shot down a cruise missile launched towards their ships.’

  ‘My god.’

  ‘And we hit two large camps overnight, say up to six hundred fighters killed, and I think they were the front line fighters.’

  ‘And your wounded?’

  ‘Two minor wounds, men flown east to Muscat. Perhaps you can visit them in hospital, reporter to hand.’

  ‘A good idea, yes. And what will you do next?’

  ‘We’ll wear them down slowly and search the area they could occupy. They won’t get near enough to launch rockets again, but they could have more cruise missiles.’

  ‘Those missiles could reach Muscat?’ he worried.

  ‘No, sir, don’t worry about that.’

  ‘I will visit you soon -’

  ‘No, sir, it’s not safe. If you’re killed they get a great victory.’

  ‘Still, I must be seen to be brave to my people.’

  ‘Then make it a quick flying visit, sir, in a few days.’

  ‘I will check my schedule, yes. Ask for what you need, Major, we must win this – and be seen to win this.’

  ‘Leave it with me, sir.’

  Half an hour later the pair of GCHQ captains appeared. ‘We have signals east and north.’

  ‘Follow me.’ Outside, I found Robby returning with the 14 Intel teams. ‘Sergeant Major, get that sloppy bunch kitted for war, we have signals east and north!’

  ‘Can I go with them?’ he testily asked.

  ‘Of course you can, they need a man of your calibre to lead and to guide them.’

  He gritted his teeth before he turned away and barked orders.

  I faced the GCHQ captains. ‘Two teams, and yes – you go with them. Get a rifle, some supplies, time out from behind the desk.’

  They exchanged worried looks. ‘We get wounded and you explain it to the Director.’

  ‘I will,
a letter to your next of kin, watches stolen. Go get ready.’ Inside, I told Harris, ‘Have two Lynx ready for ground attack east and north, door gunners in them.’

  ‘They were complaining of little to do.’

  I put a finger on the map. ‘Have the remainder start a sector search west of us, square by square progressing west, get your staff earning their keep, eh.’

  Tired Intel captains raised heads and exchanged tired looks, irate looks.

  When Major Pritchard called he began, ‘Paras just arrived with us, large force, but they left men at a few places back down the line. What are we doing next?’

  ‘Stay there tonight, then you move west tomorrow. You take point. Leave a team of Paras where you are, but warn men about moving around in that mess.’

  ‘It stinks, body parts all over.’

  ‘Have them make camp in the middle of the wadi, and to watch out for zombies. Oh, Ordnance can sweep for mines at the wadi entrance.’

  ‘We found one, partly buried, so there are some there.’

  Next call was Kravitz. ‘You still alive, Lieutenant?’

  ‘Got some sleep, a few hours, bed of cold sand,’ he quipped.

  ‘Any problems overnight?’

  ‘We had a rest, but at dawn we shot a few fighters, small groups hiding and sneaking out. Greenies are up here with us, high ground to the northwest of the camp.’

  ‘How many fighters died in the camp?’

  ‘Hard to tell how many died in the airstrike, but we have two hundred bodies counted.’

  ‘Standby extraction by helo today. But if you can, get to the fighters closest and get phones and IDs.’

  ‘We already have done, got a bag full.’

  ‘Wait the helos, be ready to move in an hour.’

  I stepped back inside and gave Harris the movement orders, sheets updated, Pumas booked, Kovsky calling in the Navy. ‘Have those Paras and Marines left behind in the wadi called in?’

  ‘Yes,’ the lady Intel captain informed me.

  ‘Call them, tell them I want foot patrols south a mile or so – a mile past the edge of the wadi, looking for tracks, but not to engage anyone without calling in first.’

  The RAF Squadron leader suggested, ‘How about a pallet drop, they’re ready.’

  ‘Sure, drop it dead centre of the wadi where the SAS are. Paras and Marines are there now. No need to communicate it, they’ll see the plane - and there’s plenty of space.’

  Max stepped in. ‘What’s happening?’

  ‘Grab a Lynx, grab the RAF film team, and film the pallet drop from the ground. You can stay with the men moving forwards if you like but you’ll miss the action. If you’re back here I can send you on the next insert.’

  Harris took a call on his sat phone. ‘Robby has a contact six miles east, a group of maybe twenty fighters. He has one platoon of 14 Intel with him.’

  ‘Have the Lynx distract the fighters and shoot down at them, Robby to attack at the same time.’

  Orders were shouted, men rushing around, sheets updated, Max rushing to the Lynx to photograph the action. Up on the ATC roof, the day now hot, I watched two Lynx pull up and spin around, noses down as they sped east away from me. Sat on the hot tarmac were just two Lynx with mechanics buzzing around, making me wonder about the remainder, and remembering the search pattern west I had ordered.

  Kovsky joined me with Hicks. ‘Some action?’ Kovsky asked.

  ‘Foot patrol east, got around us somehow.’

  ‘Go lost, more like,’ Kovsky suggested.

  I turned my head to Hicks. ‘None of your men were wounded overnight.’

  ‘Yeah, I heard, and a good tally of fighters shot up.’

  ‘And are you mad at me?’ I asked. I waited, Kovsky uneasy.

  Hicks studied me for a moment as he straightened. ‘I thought about what you said, right after I told you about officers in peacetime, and you’re right – Holsteder won’t make general someday, I will.’

  Kovsky cocked an eyebrow at Hicks without being seen.

  I told Hicks, ‘When you are a general, you can help me get out of whatever trouble I’m in at the time.’

  Inside the ATC tower I listened to the crackling radio traffic with the others, the Lynx soon reported to be firing down at fighters seen, rockets fired into the sand, door gunners opening up.

  An out-of-breath Robby called me ten minutes later. ‘We attacked after the Lynx fired down, and the Lynx killed most of them, nowhere to hide, but we got minor wounds, lots of them; some fucker blew himself up.’

  ‘I’ll send two Pumas. Standby.’ I gave the ATC officers the dispatch order, medics to be on the Pumas. I could see the medics driving down the Pumas as two Pumas turned over engines, and five minutes later the Pumas loudly pulled up and slowly turned south, speeding east as the Lynx returned and set down.

  The pilots left the Lynx that had landed, but Max was not with them, so I figured him on the ground. And maybe now injured.

  When the Pumas returned I drove over with Colonel Clifford, finding the medics tent very busy.

  Maggy was stood outside with a bloodied bandage over her forehead. ‘Wounded man had a bomb, Boss, I could see him. I think my shot set the bomb off.’

  ‘How close were you?’

  ‘Thirty yards out, behind a sand dune.’

  ‘Always pays to double-tap from distance, a lesson for you.’

  ‘A painful one,’ came from one of the men, a nasty gash on his head.

  ‘Mister Morten, any lives in danger?’ I loudly asked.

  ‘No, but some nasty cuts.’

  ‘Those that can stay and heal here do so,’ I insisted. ‘We have a war on.’

  Outside, I gave Robby my unhappy face. ‘You got your fucking team all wounded!’

  ‘I had them down behind a dune, double-tapping, missed the man with the bomb.’

  ‘Keep your fucking distance, Sergeant Major, you know that. Next time you’ll be a fucking Chef’s Assistant.’

  He lowered his head. ‘Right, Boss.’

  ‘Rally those that are OK, and go find the fighters north of us. Snipe from a distance. Get any more wounded today and I’ll shoot you myself!’

  He called names and formed a team of four able-bodied men, to join the remainder of 14 Intel.

  Back in the medics tent I noticed one of the GCHQ captains. ‘How the hell did you get wounded?’

  ‘I was a hundred yards away, down, but something landed on my head.’

  Morten told me, ‘Just a cut, lot of blood, he can stay here.’

  I noticed Max knelt next to a man. ‘Max, you hit?’

  ‘No, I was doing some first aid, not my blood.’

  ‘Go film that pallet drop – after you wash your hands.’

  Driving back, Clifford sighed. ‘That could have gone better, six wounded personnel. Seven with the GCHQ chap.’

  ‘The team leader should have known better, but we have to check the bodies and try and get IDs and phones, and this lot all like to blow themselves up. Be a few more casualties down to suicide bombers.

  ‘The men deployed in the desert heeded my warnings and kept their distance, otherwise we’d be down a shit load of men.’

  ‘And if they had been killed?’

  ‘The politicians would want this wrapped up. Today.’ We exchanged a look.

  In the HQ room I updated Harris as to who was injured, getting most of the names right, the names checked with the 14 Intel captains. I took a moment to consider them both, Robby not having taken them along.

  Harris curtly noted, ‘14 Intel wanted some action, now they pigging got some.’

  A loud Hercules landing had some of us walk out and have a look, two Hercules down, short Omani soldiers in brown walking off with rifles and large kit bags.

  A new major approached me as our resident Omani major walked out to us. He shook hands with his college. The newcomer began, ‘Major Hajid, First Omani Paratroop Brigade, and the only Omani paratroopers – there is no second and third, and we
are paratroopers one month a year, infantry the remainder of the time.’

  I smiled. ‘Welcome. And … what are your orders?’

  ‘To help you of course, any way we can.’

  ‘I’m having trouble with a girl in the UK I got pregnant…’

  He laughed. ‘We have limits, we are not miracle workers.’

  ‘And your berets are not pink?’ I teased.

  He laughed loudly. ‘The SSF are pink, and our counter-terrorism forces are not to be trifled with, they are tough men – at least they are if you are tied naked to a chair.’

  ‘How many men did you bring?’

  ‘I have brought sixty, all apart from the chef – who also is parachute qualified.’

  I could see that they were all carrying M16s as they lugged kit and lined up. ‘You will need some distance weapons, Major.’

  ‘We have telescopic sights, and L42A1.’

  ‘Good rifles still,’ I commended. ‘Left over from the Dhofar Conflict?’

  ‘We adopted them afterwards, sport hunting, and they grew in popularity. Many men have them at home, and we learn to shoot aged ten. All old men have them.’

  ‘You have permission to cross the border?’

  ‘We have orders to run down the terrorists and cut out their hearts!’

  ‘If you run in this heat you will need a lot of water, so take the helicopters in.’

  He laughed as I led his men towards the tents that had been vacated by the Greenies.

  I told him, ‘You may get rockets, and suicidal pilots wrapped in explosives. But apart from that it should be nice and quiet. I’ll find you a place to attack in a day or two. I was about to say you need time to acclimatise…’

  He smiled. ‘We need time to recover from a Hercules ride! The heat and the sand … not so much a problem.’

  I nodded. ‘Tomorrow, Major.’

  Max flew out, landing in the wadi just in time to see the pallet drop, two Hercules each dropping two parachute-slowed pallets from just twenty feet off the sand, enough supplies to keep our men out there in good stead for months.

  The Pumas brought back Echo, the men dusty – two minor wounds, then returned to fetch the Greenies, the US Navy picking up the SEALs, time back on ship till I had a suitable target for them. Now the Greenies had fewer tents, so I allocated them the brick billets vacated by the Wolves.