by Geoff Wolak
‘Us neither, we’d all feel the heat. And well done in Mali, good job apart from that nutcase kid. The documentary style film was shown over here, got good ratings, and the Pentagon analysed Liberia in detail – from a recruitment point of view oddly enough. It was stage managed?’
‘Mostly, but there was a genuine threat and a genuine need.’
‘That large para drop...’
‘Unnecessary, but it spiked recruitment.’
‘So I’ve been learning, yes. And your friend in Monrovia assisted, and provided intel.’
‘Yes, and Tomsk got directly involved, and bribed Russian gun runners, and that helped.’
‘So that relationship paid off.’
‘Very much so, and you senator helped that relationship when I took him to see the president of Liberia – who thinks Petrov is part of some sinister inner circle that secretly controls the world.’
‘Incredible that he believes that, because I can’t get my guys to balance their expenses, let alone control the world. Yesterday, one accidentally ran himself over ... with his own car.’
‘Those parking brakes are essential,’ I quipped.
‘I’ll be talking to David soon, we’re interested in Russian arms reaching Syria and Gaza, a need for Petrov.’
‘Get me the detail and I’ll make some calls.’
‘Will do soon, yes. Bye for now.’
‘You’re supposed to say ... TTFN.’
‘Ah, that was Cold War British spy talk, ta ta for now. They still use that?’
‘I hope not.’
He laughed and cut the line.
The following week a man came down to see me after CIA Chuck called me from London, a page of detail about Russian arms smugglers. It was 4pm, so I led the man to my house, my guest working for David Finch but based in Cyprus, where GCHQ had an outpost on a hill facing Syria.
I called Tomsk, getting Big Sasha. ‘Is Napoleon awake?’
‘Just got up. Hang on.’
‘Petrov?’
‘You just got up?’
‘Late night drinking.’
‘No good for you.’
‘I have a club to run!’
‘Club now, not a bar?’
‘I bought a big place, nice club now. The local Panama officials go there, brothel at the back, discrete door.’
‘Did you get any hotels after?’
‘Yes, four now, big ones, great for money laundering.’
‘Listen, what do you know about secret arms shipments into Gaza, Israel?’
‘Funny you should say that, because this big fat fuck Hesna is here, passing through. He mentioned a man called Sputta who is involved, crazy fuck, survived a few assassination attempts.’
I wrote down the name. ‘The Yanks are interested in this, so if you can find out anything do so, but quietly.’
‘This fat slob Hesna knows all about Sputta, they were partners, still some contact.’
‘Sounds like you don’t like him.’
‘He was rude yesterday, and he hurt a girl. Big fucker weighs 300lbs. More.’
‘Where’s he going after leaving you?’
‘Ecuador.’
‘Have some men get there ahead of him, and torture the fat fuck, find out what he knows, then make it look like a local thing, slit throat, set on fire.’
‘Be a pleasure. And if I find something good...?’
‘You make the Americans happy.’
‘You said that last time, and these DEA shits want to land on my lawn!’
‘Those high up know about our deal, those middle managers don’t, and they all want to fuck each other over for a promotion. But the DEA won’t be bothering you for a long time. And I got you the damn warning!’
‘Ha! I paid three million for the damn warning!’
‘You’d be dead now without that warning, so be happy, eh.’
‘And the British, in Liberia?’
‘They’ll stabilise the country, and then you make a killing buying land. After that idiot dictator goes the sanctions will be lifted, normal oil trade, British and French wanting to get in there.’
‘He sold me land cheap, near the airport, a beach in front. I’m building a hotel and some parks and maybe some condos.’
‘If things settle down over there, it will make good money.’
‘And I get the diamonds. I pay a modest amount, and make ten times when they’re cut. Oil is good now, two ships a week. Fucking government here loves me, they get a good price.’
‘You moved back into your villa?’
‘No, I have another place, bigger, place you grabbed for me. And I’m planting tall trees so that no helicopter can land!’
I laughed loudly. ‘Good idea. Oh, while I think of it, man by the name of Krosvo.’
‘Ah ... that fucking idiot; he still owes me money. He’s in Northern Cyprus, he has a small hotel, the Sparta Hotel.’
‘Sparta, in Northern Cyprus? That’s a Greek name. Is he trying to piss them off?’
‘Sparta is Greek?’
‘Yes, their famous soldiers from before Jesus.’
‘He has a local wife, and a Turkish name, Turkish papers.’
‘Let me know about the fat fuck, eh.’
‘Yeah, yeah, when he leaves – which I hope is soon.’
‘You’re not dealing guns anymore I hope?’ I asked.
‘No, I stay away from that shit, less hassle.’
‘Good.’
Phone away, I faced David’s man, and handed him my notes.
‘We’ll pass this to the Israelis and Americans, makes us look good.’
‘I’ll have intel on the Gaza shipments in a few days.’
‘I can see why this is all off the books,’ he quipped. ‘Still, it’s a highly valued link you have.’ He phone chirped. ‘Sorry.’ He stepped next door to take it. I could hear, ‘I’m with him now.’
Back with me a minute later, he said, ‘There’s someone the Americans are after, in Monrovia.’
‘What does this person do ... or did do?’
‘Gun runner, but he supplied Islamist groups in west Africa, so I guess the French might like a word as well.’
‘Name?’
‘Oleg Pacha.’
I called Mike Papa. ‘Mister President, it’s Papa Victor.’
‘Ah, how are things?’
‘Good. Listen, you have a man with you, Oleg Pacha?’
‘I would ask how you knew, but you are well connected. Yes, he is here.’
‘Do you value him?’
‘Well ... he supplies some weapons in the past, now hiding out, some deals to work.’
‘The Americans want him, and might be annoyed if you protect him.’
‘Ah, I see. Well, he is of no value at the moment, and our past friendship is not worth upsetting someone on a big American battleship.’
‘You remember what we did when we first met?’
‘Yes, indeed. So ... the Americans don’t want him handed over, they want to land by helicopter.’
‘Exactly. So is there somewhere he can go that is quiet?’
‘He is going to look at a diamond mine, has papers to show the British soldiers he is sewage engineer from Ukraine. Name of Dimitri Chaikoskov.’
I wrote down the name. ‘When?’
‘Tomorrow he will drive there for midday.’
I wrote down the name of the village near the mine. ‘No one will ever know you did this, Mister President, just us. And we are grateful.’
‘I am glad to help.’
Off the phone, I faced my guest, who was smiling, and hit the numbers for the Pentagon E-Ring, finally getting through to Colonel Mathews.
‘Wilco?’
‘Got a paper and pen, sir?’
‘Fire away.’
‘Tomorrow, Liberia, midday, this location.’ I spelt the village name. ‘There’s a diamond mine nearby. Man with Ukraine papers, Dimitri Chaikoskov, really a Russian arms dealer, wanted by the FBI. Real name is Oleg Pacha. Have the
Marines go get him, and if there was a camera on a helicopter...’
I could hear laughter. ‘We’ll get him.’
‘Oh, and let the British know half an hour before you move, as a courtesy.’
‘Of course.’
Phone away, I faced my guest. ‘You’d better update David as well. And I think the papers will report that British SAS were tracking the man...’
‘So we all get some credit,’ he said as he stood.
Later, in the pub, I asked Rocko how Fuzz was getting along as he sat with Rizzo, Rizzo’s ankle now better.
‘Yeah, he’s OK, fit, a good shot, picks things up quickly enough, good with a pistol as well.’
‘Does he get along with people?’
‘He seems awkward now and then, but he’s best mates now with the sniper team, and he’s a good sniper.’
Rizzo put in, ‘Police up at The Factory?’
‘This week, yes,’ I told them. ‘Down here Sunday night, Killing House.’
‘So when we off somewhere warm?’ Rocko complained.
‘Soon, because we won’t get much done in this weather, we ain’t training for Northern Ireland.’
My phone trilled and I stepped away.
‘It’s David, there’s been an incident in Panama, a bomb.’
‘I’ll call now.’
I called Tomsk on my sat phone. ‘You still alive?’
‘Me, yes, bomb was aimed at the government here, fucking fifty dead.’
‘You know who was behind it?’
‘Cali Cartel we think. I tipped off the Americans and the local police, and they stopped some big shipments belonging to the Cali Cartel – ten men arrested, some senior. Those idiots threatened reprisals.’
‘They may come for you.’
‘Let them, I deal with them.’
I called David. ‘It was the Cali Cartel, reprisals for getting their shipments seized.’
‘Cali Cartel killed two Colombian Ministers today, wounded four soldiers.’
‘Then maybe you chat to the interested parties and we deal with them.’
‘Send Echo in?’
‘No, send Petrov and his boys in.’
‘I’ll discuss that with the interested parties, but won’t the Cali Cartel go for Tomsk?’
‘Hopefully, yes, and he’d welcome the attempt.’ Sat back down, I said, ‘Might be a job somewhere warm after all. Fuckers are kicking off in Colombia.’
‘Nice and warm,’ Rocko commended. ‘Those communists we hit?’
‘No, the drug barons. They killed a few government ministers.’
Rizzo said, ‘Whenever we do a job like that, the team piss-up is always well funded.’ He waited.
I smiled. ‘I often find money just lying around, one careless owner.’
Fuzz turned up with the snipers, so I grabbed him. ‘How you getting on?’
‘All good so far, Boss, some good lads here, and Rocko don’t give me any shit, he’s well laid back. Back at Hereford they like to compete and be sneaky, but here the lads are OK.’
‘Room OK?’
‘Yeah, fine, and the food is good, and I’m saving money, so all good. Lads dared me to sleep next door to Bongo, and I did, won the bet. I’m like Rocko, and once I’m asleep I can’t hear nothing.’
‘Not a good trait for the jungle,’ I told him.
‘Well, no, I’d need to stay awake or someone will sneak up on me.’
Later, I led Sasha to one side. ‘May have a job in Panama.’
His eyes widened. ‘We’d go back?’
‘You don’t have to, but the Cali Cartel are setting off bombs.’
‘Well ... what about Tomsk? What do I say?’
‘He knows everything, and he’ll be fine. Say your girl here is pregnant, but he won’t give me any shit, he owes me too many favours.’
‘Well ... it would be odd, going back.’
‘Just a few days, then we hit the Cali Cartel.’
‘Won’t be easy, these Cartels have eyes on every corner.’
‘We won’t be getting the local bus there, don’t worry. But ... if you don’t want to go I don’t mind at all, I’d only take a few lads.’
Getting ready for bed, my sat phone trilled; Tomsk. ‘Da!’
‘I just had that minister I deal with on the phone, and he dropped a hint that you go after the Cali Cartel, and that they will be grateful.’
‘I’ve already discussed it with the British, waiting to hear what they say. Problem is getting there unseen.’
‘We have helicopters.’
‘It’s four hundred miles for fuck’s sake, a helicopter is no good, and landing by ship will be tricky. I need the British or Americans to help, but they can’t be seen helping with this.’
‘So how do we get some men down there?’
‘I’ll have a think, look at the map. You talk to your partners down there, get villa names.’
‘These Cali fucks all have villas in the hills above the city, west of it, many in one estate with a wall and security.’
‘Good for us, we can hit villas. But be careful, because if they know we’re coming you’ll lose your men.’
‘Yes, yes, I’m careful.’
The next day David called me after lunch. ‘PM is not keen to be involved for obvious reasons, it’s a risk, but he is aware of the value of the relationship, and its connections in Liberia. He would like to set back the drug gangs and assist the Panama Government, but we can’t offer to assist them without giving things away, so it’s ... awkward.’
‘And the Americans?’
‘A similar position, in that they would like to, but don’t like the risk.’
‘There’s an angle you’re missing. Let me make a call.’
At 5pm I checked with Colonel Marchant and then with Reuters. I called Colonel Mathews, Pentagon.
‘Ah, Wilco, we got the guy, FBI getting a boner right about now, TV news reporting it.’
‘And it was the FBI I wanted to chat about, sir. The Cali Cartel set off a bomb in Panama -’
‘Yeah, I got the report as soon as it happened. Bomb in Bogota as well.’
‘Yes, and many interested parties would like to do something about them, yet all would not like to be seen ... to be doing anything about them.’
‘I get the feeling you know some fellas that could help.’
‘Well ... yes, but it would still be a difficult mission. That’s where the FBI come in. Do you have any contacts there, sir?’
‘Yes, we meet regular, their counter terrorism team and narco team for Central America.’
‘Then maybe you could meet soon, and mention that if certain bad boys were to hit the Cali Cartel, then a few of the senior leaders would be taken alive, picked up by one of your helicopters.’
‘And the FBI would be very fucking happy, not least after the shit they got recently.’
‘Problem is ... my bad boys need a hand in getting from Panama to Cali and back without being seen.’
‘A tub with helicopters would help, yes. I think I have a conversation to have.’
‘Be careful, sir, this is high stakes poker.’
‘I’m just dropping an idea into someone’s ear. After that, if the White House says yes, then I get permission and we have a go.’
‘You need to mention, sir, that if something goes wrong the blame lies with the bad boys, and you were never there. They’ll be no US boots on the ground.’
‘I’ll get back to you soon.’
I gave Max a story to put out, and the next day the SBS, not the SAS, were praised as having been tracking our arms dealer in Liberia, which came as a surprise to the SBS at the FOB.
David Finch called me at 5pm. ‘The Americans are now far keener to do something, if that something could net a few Cali Cartel chiefs behind bars – a few dead US citizens to account for. Talk of material assistance.’
‘Well ... what do you think?’ I posed, trying to make him feel involved; he was not like Bob Staines.
‘I think they’ll put pressure on for Petrov to get involved.’
‘If you want me to go I’ll go, but if the aim is to hit the Cali Cartel then I need a few of my lads, and a tight plan. Those cartel bosses are well guarded, eyes everywhere. It won’t be easy.’
‘And if you’re caught?’
‘Ex-SAS mercenaries, plus Petrov, Captain Wilco dead from a wound picked up in Liberia, cremated, very sad. But do you think the British public will give a shit if they find out I went after drug barons? No, hardly. And the SAS have been involved in tracking down the drug barons before now, and the CIA, it’s nothing new.’
‘True, so the Director said it’s up to you, and that if something went wrong we’d blame you for freelancing a bit.’
I laughed. ‘I know the risks, and how it works, so don’t worry.’
‘You’d want to take some of Echo?’
‘A few, yes, to increase my chances. But what about Sasha and his team?’
‘You think they could pull it off?’
‘Tomsk won’t give a fuck about them, nor harm them even if he knew, he’ll follow my lead. I’d take Sasha, the rest of the team would just be for practise.’
‘And kit?’
‘Tomsk can get everything I need. But I need a way into Panama with no papers, so arrange a transport to Belize as soldiers, Tomsk can then sneak us into Panama.’
The next day the PM got a firm nudge from the Americans, and he sent David a note, who told me I had a green light.
I went and found Sasha. ‘They want me to go back, but ... am I being hasty here? It’s a risk.’
He shrugged. ‘Every job is a risk, every parachute job. Is this more difficult?’
‘There are things that can go wrong, but ... if they know about us they send ten idiot gunmen with no soldiering experience, and we’ll be in the jungle in the hills.’
‘No one will find you in the jungle, not just gunmen, you slaughter them. They are good in the city streets and alleys, not in the hills. You must watch that film, with Harris Ford.’
‘Harrison Ford,’ I corrected him. ‘Ah, the one with the US military going into Colombia, yes. They were betrayed, and the senior men in Washington were arrested, so let’s hope it’s not similar.’
I grouped Echo at 5pm, after they had been training the police. ‘In the next few days or so we’ll all ship out to Belize, some warm weather because Rocko complained to the Prime Minister about the weather here.’