by Geoff Wolak
‘This one guy I collared, he lived on the tenth floor, had four Alsatians in with him. We shat ourselves before we were ready to smash the door in, and when we did the dogs were right there. My sergeant says “sit!”, and they did.’
The van reverberated with laughter.
Off Reagent’s Park we met the two men from SIS, a police car around the corner, and I took the two SIS men upstairs, leaving the rest in the van, quite illegally parked.
Bell rung, door opened, I greeted the man – short and bald, and recognised him from here in London, a man known to Yuri. Two burly Russians stood in the corner, probably armed.
‘You did well against the Cali Cartel, La Palma alive with gossip – Tomsk did not say till I asked about it.’
‘They were old men worried about their families, not hardened fighters,’ I told my host. ‘Easy to pick up a phone and order someone killed.’
‘Yes, of course.’ He pointed at several large holdalls. ‘Five million English, more to come.’
‘Don’t worry about the police and British Intelligence, you’re quite safe. And if you have any problems ... call me.’
‘I’m clean, that way on purpose, I’m an accountant and banker. Even the money is clean, just a question of ... tax, depending on how it is used.’
‘It’ll be used to fund operations like the one to get the Cali Cartel, so tax is not an issue.’ I grabbed two heavy holdalls, the SIS guys grabbed holdalls. I thanked my host and told I would be back next week – and maybe for a quiet drink.
Downstairs we were flanked by the police, the van loaded, a short trip down to the MOD building with a police car at the font, and into the underground car park, four holdalls carried up to David’s assistant, one left in the van.
‘Check it for bombs and bugs, count it,’ I told him, and he started to lift out wads. ‘Should be four million. I have one more holdall in the van, one million, will be in a safe at GL4. More cash to pick up next week. That four million is yours, so ... staff day out maybe.’
‘Staff day out?’ he scoffed. ‘There’s never been a staff day out for the fucking MOD bean counters! I bring my own fucking tea and coffee to work!’
Back in the van I opened the final holdall and checked for bombs, happy that there were none, and we set off back, but without the police escort. But my escort had noticed the cash, and asked.
‘Gentlemen,’ I called. ‘Welcome to the world of espionage and intrigue. First rule is ... don’t blab about it. If you do then you’d never be considered for the good jobs, and you’re all available for dodgy undercover work should you want it, Tuxedo and Aston Martin.’
They were keen, a debate about the pros and cons of such work as we drove back in light traffic.
I said to them, ‘Guys, you can go up against a nutter with a dangerous dog ... or tail an enemy spy around London.’
‘Tail the spy,’ they all agreed.
Back at GL4 we drove to the armoury, and I opened the heavy doors, the holdall locked in a metal cabinet for now after I removed a few wads and counted them. Armoury locked and checked, police thanked - tipped a bonus and dismissed, I walked with Pete back, chatting as we went, but ducked into Rocko’s house first.
Slider was sat watching TV, so I handed Rocko several wads without saying anything, and he ran upstairs after checking that Slider had not seen it.
In with Rizzo, Stretch was in the shower, so I handed him his wads, same as Rocko, £20,000, a finger to my lips. He nodded and then hid the money.
In the morning the metal box turned up, the size of a large wardrobe, but the safe was not here yet. I sat and worked out money, the Major taking charge of the cash with O’Leary, and it would all be accounted for by Bean Counter Bradley.
In the briefing room, all asked to attend, some of the lads from Colombia in civvys, I began, ‘OK, as you already know there are bonuses to be paid thanks to a successful operation in Colombia. This money comes from the Government, who seized drug funds, so don’t feel bad about enjoying it. Sniper Team, front and centre.’
They lined up, all handed £10,000 and told to sit. Sasha and his team all got the same, and finally Rocko and Rizzo got another £10,000, and thanked me - for realism in front of the others. Each of the remainder got a nice £4,000 payout, noted by the Major and O’Leary.
I gave the Intel staff each a £2,000 bonus, the same from Stores, even Bongo got some money. The rest of the money would be held in the metal box till the safe arrived, the balance recorded, the final handouts being for O’Leary, the Major and our Admin Corporal – the Corporal getting £1,000.
Business concluded, I drove up to Cheltenham and to a nursery, the staff recognising me from a previous visit. For an hour I painted with my fingers sat on the floor till Kate arrived, surprised to see me – and surprised by the amount of paint on me.
‘I had some time off, was passing,’ I told her, washed up, and I handed her a gift, a thick jiffy bag.
She cocked an eyebrow at the cash.
‘To be put into trust for when the little monster is twenty-one. I won’t be around.’
Kate appeared saddened for a moment, but was distracted by the little monster, paint in her hair.
Getting back, I got a call just as I locked my car.
‘It’s David. Our friend suffered a heart attack, he’s dead.’
‘I’ll send flowers.’
‘Rest of the JIC were turned over, a bit too firmly I might add, and all had the Q&A, and they all know about it now, all terrified of being accused – and of what you might do to them.’
‘I’ll avoid them for a while, they can follow the chain of command and go through you or Colonel Dean. That is, after all, what they’re supposed to do.’
Swifty queried the paint under my nails as I got a brew on.
The next day, Saturday, I checked plans for the new batch of police trainees, the barracks now vacated, but four SO13 officers would remain, making use of a house, and those officers would investigate locals of interest - any local showing interest in this place, the local police to cooperate with them.
Sunday night, Crab and Duffy helping out, O’Leary in attendance, the new police recruits arrived and were signed in, kit issued, and when they were all here I was called over, the men assembled in the briefing room at 9pm – heaters on.
I stood at the front after Crab had shouted at them to shut up. ‘My name is Captain Milton, but they call me Wilco. You address officers as Boss or by rank and name, Directing Staff as Staff, and you will behave like this is basic training and your first day in the police.
‘The first batch of coppers that came through here got themselves kicked out. They were interested in the pub, and little else. So we changed the selection process, and the next batch did much better, four still here and guarding this place as you sleep.
‘A word of warning. This is GL4, and there’s an excellent chance of someone taking a shot at you here, a bomb under your car. There have been several attacks here, there will be others, so use caution at all times. Don’t sleep walk, we will shoot you dead!’ I let them think about it, the men exchanging looks.
‘You lot are being trained to go into danger, so get used it. And if it bothers you ... fuck off back to a desk job. Simple. Now, fitness is pushed here, but you don’t need to be fit to shoot someone. You need to be fit to climb a building and sneak into some place, yes, but also ... you need to be capable of hitting the pain barrier and to keep going.
‘Someday soon you may be on a hostage siege, an opposed entry, shots fired. The man to your left could be killed, the man to the right has his brains up the wall, you’re shot in the stomach. You are expected to keep going. That’s were fitness and determination comes in.
‘Now, unlike previous courses, you will cover the basics here and then move down to Sierra Leone and Liberia, and within days of getting there you will kill a man trying to kill you.’
They exchanged worried looks.
‘Yes, you will be put at risk in the jungle,
a great way to train you, and to see what you’re made off, because once qualified you may be part of a breach team, entering a building with gunmen inside. You need to do that without panicking, without stopping when your mate is killed. Got any doubts, leave sooner rather than later.’
I left them looking worried, Sergeant Crab organising kit for them, but I had spoken too soon about the dangers here at Gl4.
At 10pm, just as I was sat watching the TV with Swifty, shots sounded out, followed by the loud cackle of a GPMG hammering out rounds from the nearby tower. Pistols out, we ran out the house and to the gate as the alarm sounded out, the lights coming on.
Around the gate I found a car that had been shredded, it’s engine running and exhaust blowing, MP Pete and his mate knelt, rifles ready.
‘They failed to stop, rammed the gate then reversed!’ Pete informed me.
I walked forwards, and bent over to look inside, finding two teenage lads, a hell of a mess created. ‘Shit.’ I straightened, a horrified look exchanged with Swifty. I turned and shouted, ‘Stand down the alert, alarm off!’
Reaching in I checked for pulses, and checked the wounds, sure that there was nothing anyone could do for the boys, both hit in the head, neck and upper chest ten times each.
Walking back, I stopped in front of Pete. And sighed. ‘Two teenage joy riders.’
His face dropped, his rifle lowered.
I added, ‘Probably been drinking cider or something. Don’t beat yourself up about it, right to be cautious around this fucking place.’ Phone out, men running in, I called SIS.
‘Duty officer.’
‘It’s Wilco at GL4. We just shot dead two teenage joy riders who rammed our gate.’
‘Oh Christ...’
‘You know what to do.’ Phone down, I led Swifty back, telling the lads to stand down. At the tower I clambered up the steep metal steps, finding an MP and one of my SO13 guys wrapped up warm. ‘Listen, you did nothing wrong, but ... they were two teenage joy riders.’
Their dark outlines exchanged horrified looks.
‘Way they drove down that road we figured it an attack. And we only fired after the first shot!’
I nodded. ‘Carry on as normal, but there will be an enquiry, and maybe they’ll question the use of a GPMG, but that could have been Nigerians or Colombians, so stay sharp and stay focused. And if anyone asks ... you were not sure where that first shot came from, us or them.’
Back down, many of the lads hanging around - and now armed, I called Max and gave him the story. There was time to slot it in before going to print.
At the barracks, Crab assembled the new trainees, all looking more than just a little concerned.
‘Listen up,’ I loudly began. ‘Two teenage joy riders just sped down our road, despite the warning signs, and hit out gate. They were just messing about, maybe drunk, and now ... they’re both very dead. We have good security here, and for good reason.
‘You may go to sleep tonight knowing that our security might ... get those men coming here to shoot you. If that bothers you then go get a job behind a desk.’
From my house I could see SOCO at the car, blue lights flashing, ambulances lined up. We would not be popular with the locals.
Swifty said, ‘No fucker will come near this place now, postman will dump the fucking mail up the road! And what if Tomo drives in drunk?’
‘I’ll set a new protocol, no shooting unless a weapon seen or shots fired.’
‘That should help, yeah. Be a shit storm about this, those kids looks like they’re thirteen year olds!’
I sighed heavily, not looking forwards to the questions. Or the publicity.
In the morning I called Colonel Dean, who would probably get questions about the incident. We did, technically, work for him. David called early, horrified by the incident, questions asked of the rules of engagement. I gave him my new rules of engagement.
Donohue flew down with a team, since their men had been involved, and they had been tasked with the assisting on the case, their man on the GPMG – albeit holding the ammo chain – now suspended on full pay as was normal.
Senior Army officers turned up with Colonel Bennet after I called him. He was not here to help me, but MP Pete, and they sat for a long one-to-one, notes taken.
I grabbed Pete when a break was called, and led him to my house, kettle knocked on. ‘You beating yourself up about it?’
‘Kids were the same age as my brother’s boys.’
‘I’ve accidentally killed a civvies,’ I told him. ‘But do I stop doing what I do because of it? No, because there are a few hostages out there that need my help, so I think of them. I don’t want you quitting on me.’
‘I’m OK, but ... it is turning my stomach, and at the inquest I’ll face the parents. Not looking forwards to that.’
I nodded as I placed down the tea. ‘Look, I have a few problems of my own right now, and I don’t need to be swapping you for a new driver.’
‘I’ll be there when you need me, they’ve not suspended me like a civvy copper.’
‘If they try to, let me know, I’ll pull some strings.’ I sipped my tea. ‘In Bosnia, when I was half dead, I walked around a tree, saw a man and killed him, but he was just a forest worker, old guy, flask and sandwich, and a wife that would have missed him, maybe some kids.
‘If you let it, it fucks with your head, but I keep going because people need me to keep going. I have more good work to do, I keep telling myself that.’
‘You were a bit down after Colombia...?’
I sighed loudly. ‘Someone in Intel London tried to set me up and get me killed.’
‘Why?’ he puzzled.
‘Good fucking question. No financial gain, just ... jealousy.’
‘You work with some odd sorts.’
‘Which is why I need my best man driving me.’
I sat with Colonel Bennet and his team later and they went through the issues, and it all came down to the test of reasonableness given the threat level. And, since the threat level was very high, we could get away with being twitchy.
We discussed the new rules of engagement, but they were a grey area anyhow. This was MOD land, the road could be argued to be outside MOD land till after the gate, so two different rules applied. I thanked him, and he drove off.
At 6pm I watched the TV news with Swifty, and they were not kind to us. But at least anyone thinking of coming for me now knew about the security around here. The Sun newspaper was kinder to us, their story mostly featuring the security we offered rather the sad loss of two teenage kids.
David rang me at 7pm. ‘Those boys were gypsies, high on drugs and alcohol, both orphans living with grandparents. And the car came from a pensioner done over, so not quite the little saints.’
‘BBC news was harsh on us.’
‘Yes, some difficult questions up here, more to follow.’
After the call, I contacted Max and gave him the detail.
The next morning, as the new police trainees were on the range, the Major showed me The Sun newspaper, a picture of the pensioners worked over by the kids, a list of their offences in the local area.
The Major began, ‘Max has gone to town, but if they were my kids – behaving like that – I’d take to them with a GPMG.’
‘How is your lad, sir?’
‘Exams in the summer, expected to do very well. Upper school here or New Zealand. His sister is very bright, expected to do very well, medicine on her mind.’
‘Another doctor,’ I said with a sigh.
‘How’s your daughter?’
‘She picks things up quickly, vocabulary coming along, but she already sounds like her mum.’
‘Is Kate ... seeing anyone?’ the Major nudged.
‘Not that I know of ... or care about, sir.’
‘You’ve been a bit down lately...’ He waited.
‘Something happened, sir, can’t say what. Just ... one more arsehole trying to trip me up.’
David called, so I stepp
ed out. ‘Tomsk has put more money in that account, he’s added ten million.’
‘Then I’ll have a think what use I might make of it whilst I’m still alive.’
After a walk around to the range and back to clear my head, I grabbed Captains O’Leary, Harris, Hamble and Moran, and Swifty and the Major, and we sat in the briefing room. ‘Gentlemen, we have a greater budget, we ... could do more. So what are we not doing that we could be doing?’
Swifty said, ‘Could be somewhere warm, and training, not freezing our nuts off here.’
I nodded. ‘We’ll deploy with the police soon, to Sierra Leone.’
Captain Harris said, ‘There’s an angle I considered. In Bournemouth is a civvy outfit that issues warnings to companies that have staff in dangerous places, risk of kidnap. They also record the kidnappings. Thing is, if a black local is kidnapped it doesn’t make the news here, but it pinpoints an active gang. And when and if that black is released we could get intel.’
‘An excellent idea,’ I commended. I faced O’Leary, who sat with pen and paper ready. ‘I want a big shed for the vehicles, built fast, and to move them out from here, another Portakabin in here.’ He made a note. ‘The FCO could send us a man with a computer, and this civvy company would love to cooperate with us, so ask them for a man as well.
‘Gentlemen, if we have a map of all the risk areas, all the kidnappings, then that benefits us mostly, because if we’re sent into a place we want that intel. We may not go for many of the kidnap gangs, but if we’re tasked we could be better prepared.’
The Major said, ‘Why wait for London? If we have the real-time intel, then mention it to London, because they may get a note about it a week later – and by then the trail has gone cold.’
I nodded. ‘If western hostages are grabbed, and we find out first, then yes.’
O’Leary said, ‘FCO and the oil companies cooperate like this all the time, it’s nothing new. And the oil companies often feed the FCO intel, just need it all in one place and timely.’