Wilco- Lone Wolf 22

by Geoff Wolak

  ‘A network built up over the decades, yes. What’ll you do?’

  ‘We’re engaging a team sent to ambush my OP team as we speak, and then we should have some phones and ID cards, some track back. We had a ship movement mid Atlantic then the Panama Canal, but no leads as to who it was or what it was carrying.’

  ‘I got the note from GCHQ, and they’re looking, might get a break. Did Kate Haversham get in touch?’

  ‘No, why, what’s happened?’ I worried.

  ‘She had a baby, quite a common occurrence for pregnant ladies and nothing at all for you to worry about.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Well … she never called,’ I unhappily added.

  ‘Another girl, healthy, so … congratulations I guess.’

  ‘Try and keep it from the media,’ I told him.

  ‘I’ve never seen her described in the media here, so she’s safe at the moment. Do you still have people tailing her?’

  ‘Yes. And they’re my next call.’

  I called No.1 ‘You still have a team on Kate?’

  ‘Yes, but she’s booked into a clinic in London -’

  ‘She just gave birth, or … recently I guess.’

  ‘The team did say she had gone static, and they knew that she was pregnant obviously, and they all gently complained about the fact that she was still driving.’

  ‘Yeah, me too, to no pigging avail.’

  ‘Does Tiny know?’

  ‘Yes, and I don’t think Tiny is the soppy type. Did you get the overnight reports?’

  ‘Yes, still some people out there. The trap was clever…’

  ‘They know how I think, and the local police here might have sold the intel as to what we were up to. That drug dealer was an obvious target.’

  ‘Obvious to a smart man that is well connected. That drug dealer must have known him and trusted him.’

  ‘Well … yes. Good point. Talk soon. Oh, wait, what happened to Maria?’

  ‘We’ve been training and testing her, so far no issues. She shoots well, good at tailing someone. No cause for concern so far.’

  ‘Let’s not trust her just yet, she could be biding her time.’

  I drove around to see Mike Papa, and he would get all the info he could on our dealer, a few APC to smash down the man’s nice suburban retreat.

  Getting back, Tinker called. ‘You mentioned the drug dealer and his history, and we’ve got old sat phone packet data for Monrovia going back years – there isn’t much sat phone traffic there as you can imagine, and it’s throwing up some links from five years back, links to the Belgian bank.’

  ‘They never did drugs,’ I insisted.

  ‘No, but they were interested in moving weapons around that part of the world, and having a good facilitator. And your drug dealer is no local idiot, he’s a Belgian black, links to the Congo, calls Stateside.’

  ‘He was sat here all that time? No move on the president?’ I challenged.

  ‘He could have been reporting out what he saw, and waiting on the side lines for your buddy to get his nuts shot off. How many coup attempts were there, eh? He was always the bridesmaid, never the bride.’

  ‘Well, yeah, the President here is well protected. Our man might have been waiting his chance - sat in a white dress. Or pink for a bridesmaid I guess.’ I called Rizzo.

  ‘Yeah,’ came a man out of breath.

  ‘What’s happening?’

  ‘We hit the men sneaking in behind us, and the other teams chopped them up, but two 14 Intel lads have scrapes. Then another team comes out the trees and we have at them, then turn around and have at the last team. Fucking loads of the fuckers, and Tomo has a ricochet up his arse.’

  ‘Ouch. Do you need more teams?’

  ‘Nah, this lot ran off after we killed half of them.’

  ‘Double-tap from distance, be careful here, but get me phones and IDs. I’m sending medics and buses.’

  Moran had been listening, and he now rallied spare men and the medics, a bus with a heavy escort dispatched as Forester wrote up lists and reports.

  When my phone trilled, an hour later, it was Mike Papa. ‘The man you are looking for is not at his house, we have word that he is in Ivory Coast.’

  ‘He was hedging his bets, and we shot up his teams as he expected us to do.’

  ‘My people are searching his house now, some staff taken alive. We’ll make them talk.’

  ‘Do so, because this man was waiting to take over from you, sponsored by the bank in Belgium.’

  ‘That is … most disagreeable. I will put a price on his head, I know many people in Ivory Coast.’

  ‘Take him alive, we need answers. We need his friends, and those nudging him along.’

  ‘Indeed yes, the spider’s web.’

  I called London. ‘It’s Wilco, and the drug dealer in Monrovia we were after is linked to the old Belgian bank, he’s a Belgian black, and now in Ivory Coast. Update GCHQ and GL4. That man is now our main interest.’

  ‘GCHQ have two names for the chap. Ketona Belongee, and Frederick de Beere.’

  ‘Go with the last one, have a look at his birth certificate in Belgium, school records, and work up to his known associates. Wilco out.’

  When my phone trilled it was Wolf Murphy. ‘Hey Murphy, how’s the cold forest?’

  ‘We have us a nice cave that we operate out of. How’s Liberia?’

  ‘Warm, smelly, shoot-out in progress. How many men with you now?’

  ‘Well, we have us here these twelve of my Americans that came, plus the two teams that was here, so we have almost thirty men I reckon.’

  I rolled my eyes at his mathematical skills.

  He continued, ‘We rotate the patrols like, and we have us a friendly local man, a Serb, and he tells us where the KLA is at, and we have a chat to these here KLA, and they tells us where the Serbs is at.’

  ‘Any more trouble?’

  ‘Well, Captain Henry is planning things like, and when we see the men hassling the locals we fire warning shots and they scatter.’

  ‘Saves a bad newspaper headline I guess. No wounded?’

  ‘Had a hog bite a man, but he’s OK.’

  ‘Any bears?’

  ‘We saw us some, but they’re right small and right jittery.’

  ‘What was the reason for the call?’ I pressed.

  ‘Henry said to ask you what the game plan was?’

  ‘What you’re doing is fine, just stop them hassling the locals where you are, and look for any Serb reinforcements arriving.’

  ‘Them Serbs is sat doing squat, Boss.’

  ‘They won’t stay like that, and neither will the KLA. Be full on war soon enough.’

  ‘We get us some more men then?’

  ‘Yes, we’ll all be up there. If you need some down time I can rotate you out.’

  ‘We ain’t suffering none, Boss, and we got cash to buy fresh food from the local farmer, Captain Henri brought cash and Max the reporter got some cash as well.’

  When the medics returned I checked over the wounded, Tomo with a sore arse cheek. Wound cleaned, stitches in - a slapped head for him from Swifty’s nurse, and he was given 24hrs down time before he would man the roof. The two 14 Intel lads would need to go back, a helo booked for them, the other wounds just requiring the tender touch of a medic.

  Two hours later Rizzo returned with the sweaty and muddy teams, no one left to shoot at, a bag of phones and ID cards handed in. Most of the phones were local Nokia mobile phones, but two were sat phones. I diligently checked them for explosives and called London with each of the phones, and then diligently played back recent numbers – also sent to London, along with a list of ID card names.

  And the reason that this lot had ID cards was that they had originated in Ivory Coast, not here, where ID cards were yet to be introduced.

  Tinker called back an hour later, after the sun had gone down. ‘One of those sat phones, it links to a phone that links to GL4 proximity.’


  ‘Someone spying on us before?’

  ‘The link is from two days ago!’

  I stared at the wall, shocked. ‘Inside GL4 or outside?’

  ‘Hard to tell. Rough guess would be the front gate area.’

  ‘A visitor? Get the time and date to the MPs, check the cameras, fast as they can, I want a list. I want to know who was on the base at that time, or who visited. Get the Mi5 guys on it. No, wait, do it through the MPs, but then notify the Mi5 guys.’

  ‘You don’t trust them?’

  ‘Not today I don’t. Go be sneaky.’

  I called London and they put me through to David Finch as he was being driven around London. ‘Listen, we have a problem, a phone hit in GL4.’

  ‘Someone calling out?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘That doesn’t sound good. And recent?’

  ‘Two days ago, a call linked to our man down here.’

  ‘That … is very disappointing and going to keep me awake. I’ll start a quiet enquiry this end. But are there any new faces at GL4?’

  ‘A few new MPs, that’s all, unless you call the Mi5 team new.’

  ‘They’ve been there a few weeks. Still, we need to look.’

  ‘Proximity was the front gate, so it could have been a visitor, or someone using the local pub,’ I told David.

  ‘That would help me sleep, to think it a drive-by rather than an insider. I’ll start that enquiry.’

  ‘Coordinate with Tinker, he can keep a secret from the rest.’

  The next day Mike Papa came to visit in his colourful uniform, his minions hanging back but following like court jesters. I led him to the bar.

  He began, ‘We captured a man still alive, and he wants to live, some money in his pocket. He says that a man who speaks Spanish was at the house of this drug dealer.’

  ‘Spanish drug cartels, they want Tomsk gone,’ I noted. ‘And they want your oil.’

  ‘They will have a hard time,’ he assured me with a raised finger. ‘I am very prepared, more so now that before, the oil well protected.’

  ‘Let’s hope so. What else did he say?’

  ‘He heard something about a ship, little else.’

  ‘We traced a call to a ship, and it passed through the Panama Canal a week or more back, now in the Pacific.’

  ‘He said it was four weeks ago.’

  ‘Four? That … would have been when I first went to Nicaragua to stop the missiles.’ I shrugged. ‘Could have had something on board, but the trouble there is finished now.’

  ‘I have people in Ivory Coast looking for our man, but so far he is proving to be elusive.’

  ‘He knows that I’m onto him, and he knows my reputation.’

  ‘Indeed, a worry to be on your wanted list,’ he said with a smile. ‘And now the father of two I hear.’

  My face fell, and he recoiled. ‘How the hell did you know that?’

  ‘A man told me, your British military liaison, Major Crisps, if I say it correctly.’

  I gave him a flat hand and called David Finch. ‘It’s me. There’s a British Army liaison to the President of Monrovia, Major Crisps or similar. I want him picked up, and you can assume he’s linked to the old FBI Deep State.’

  ‘What’s he done?’ David puzzled.

  ‘He knew about Kate giving birth for starters.’

  ‘Could he have an uncle who knows Kate’s family?’

  ‘Possibly, but he still needs to keep his fucking gob shut, before I shut it for him.’

  ‘Yes, quite, such gossip puts her in danger. I’ll run the known links now and have our man isolated.’

  I excused myself, the President to head back and wait my call, and I called Kate’s old number.

  ‘Hello?’ she answered.

  ‘It’s Wilco.’

  ‘Oh. Well … I was going to call … slipped my mind.’

  ‘Such things happen, people have babies every week,’ I testily got out. ‘Listen, think hard, any family members linked to a Major Crisps, now posted down in Sierra Leone.’

  ‘Crisps? No, I would remember a name like that. Salted or barbeque flavour?’

  I sighed inwardly and made a fist. ‘It may be mispronounced.’

  ‘Nothing coming to mind, but it is making me peckish.’

  ‘Do me a favour, this is important. Call around, right now; your father, The Programme, ask about that name before I shoot the man.’

  ‘What’s he done?’

  ‘He knew you gave birth.’

  ‘Oh, well … not sure how he knew, just close family been in, and this is a civvy clinic, no publicity.’

  ‘Make the calls, I’m about to kill the man. If you don’t call back I’ll assume no one knows him.’

  ‘I’ll make some calls now, and father is here.’

  I called the Colonel in charge over at Freetown.

  ‘Ah, Major Wilco, how’s it going over there?’ came a loud and enthusiastic voice. ‘I was over there last week, all looking good.’

  ‘You have a man with you, Major Crisps?’

  ‘Major Krist, yes.’

  ‘He’s about to be arrested, or shot dead by me.’

  ‘What’s he done?’ came a worried voice.

  ‘I have a lady friend, and she just gave birth.’

  ‘I … never knew you had a lady like that.’

  ‘Very few people do, and the lady in question doesn’t know him. So the question remains as to how he knew. Do me a favour before you take the blame for a spy in your midst; have the MPs point guns at him, ask him how he knew about my lady, and call me straight back.’

  ‘Jesus. Wait the call.’

  I paced up and down, worried, and angered; Kate was now a target. As well as a right royal pain in the arse.

  Twenty minutes later and the colonel was on. ‘He has a sister, a ward nurse in a posh London clinic, a Sarah Armstrong. She helped deliver the baby.’

  ‘Then she’ll pay a price for gossiping. In some ways that’s good news, but I don’t need the entire British Army knowing about it.’

  ‘He’s been scolded already, and at gunpoint, and I’ll give him a tonne of shit. And he thinks you’re going to shoot him.’

  ‘I might do. Talk soon, sir.’ I called David Finch. ‘Nurse with Kate, Sarah Armstrong, sister to Major Krist in Sierra Leone.’

  ‘Ah, that would explain it, no need to shoot him.’

  ‘I want her gone, she put Kate in danger, and I have enough on my mind.’

  ‘I’ll deal with it promptly, put it out of your mind.’

  At 5pm Kate called. ‘The heavy mob just arrested my nurse, Sarah.’

  ‘She has family in the Army, and now every fucker in the Army knows about you, and my kid, and that puts you in great danger.’

  ‘And she said she never gossips! That trollop!’

  ‘Can’t trust anyone, eh. Stay safe, I have enough to think about.’

  ‘I have time off, we’ll be at father’s place.’

  ‘Explain to him that I have a team watching you, all armed and dangerous.’

  ‘Then have them come inside and sit quiet for god’s sake,’ she complained.

  ‘That … might be an option, yes.’

  I called Bob and explained it to him.

  He responded, ‘One is British, the rest are French or Belgians.’

  ‘And this British guy?’

  ‘Ex-Circus, fifty years old, trustworthy.’

  ‘Have him go inside, but not to give anything away.’

  ‘He’s been around a long time, I can trust him.’

  ‘Good. Oh, password for him: been at the red wine.’

  ‘Been at the red wine,’ Bob repeated. ‘But not during pregnancy I hope.’

  ‘With her, hard to tell. She was driving right up to the birth.’

  In the morning Tinker called.

  ‘You back on days, and knackered?’ I asked.

  ‘It takes a while to adjust, yeah. Listen, we think we have the ship, Evanco II, tracking back
now, but something is odd about her. She steamed through Port Suez, up the canal, then halted in Morocco for two weeks, broken engine.’

  ‘And if the engine had not been broken..?’

  ‘She would have reached Panama the same time that you did just about, or a few days before.’

  ‘So this ship was due to bring something, or fire a missile. I need London to send a note to the US Navy to shadow it if seen on the Pacific side.’

  ‘We lost its track, it’s transponder was switched off after it left the Panama Canal, no phone hits yet.’

  ‘Make that report to the US Navy urgent, my name on it. Do that now. Oh, where did it originate, the ship?’

  ‘The transponder was switched on as it approached Aden, Red Sea, not sure where it was before that,’ Tinker explained.

  ‘A Middle East connection, as with the fissile material. Warn London, this is looking bad, that ship could have a few old cruise missiles on it.’

  I called Langley.

  ‘Duty Officer.’

  ‘It’s Wilco. We have a ship, Evanco II, was part of the group of ships that were moving drugs or firing cruise missiles. It broke down in the Med, or it would have joined the other ships. It could have cruise missiles on board, and we just lost it as it left the Panama Canal on the west side, Pacific side. I want all your ships in the area at General Quarters and looking for it.’

  ‘Never a dull moment with you.’

  ‘Work fast, before you’re explaining a ship on fire.’

  After lunch, and with the teams getting bored and no sign of our wanted drug dealer, I planned a foot patrol, a show of strength, a few local police to join us. I also had my secret weapon, a pocket full of US Dollars, some handed to Moran.

  I would be leading a large patrol, more than thirty men, two lady medics in the mix, one long line to wander around the shanty town.

  After dark we set off, Swifty behind me with Rizzo and Mouri, behind them Parker and Monster, the two medics, a few of Stiffy’s lads, then 14 Intel teams.

  As we progressed, I would glance back and see men walking backwards or glancing up at windows, and this was Northern Ireland all over again.

  I transmitted, ‘All teams, smiley friendly to the locals, hearts and minds. Monster, put your facemask on.’