by Geoff Wolak
I gave them a solid lecture on what to do to stay warm, how to take a piss, how to eat, all from the memories of a cold wet field in Northern Ireland.
Graveson drove me up to Birmingham International Airport in the morning, leaving the base at 5am, a short enough drive and the road clear, and there I met Bert, a bland civil servant in his forties.
‘That your real name?’ I asked him.
‘Nickname, real name is Oscar.’
I called London and got a description of the man, and asked Bert a few questions.
‘You’re cautious, Major.’
‘Rumour has it … a few very well-funded organisations would like to see me killed, or set-up.’
‘I can understand your caution, yes. Perhaps you should avoid speeches in the White House briefing room.’
‘I had a mask on.’
‘Voice recognition is clever these days,’ he warned me.
‘So I’ll not talk on the flight,’ I quipped.
After a Costa Coffee we checked in, no issues, got through passport control, again no issues, then waited for boarding as the rain drifted down outside.
I turned to my travelling companion. ‘How long will you be there?’
‘A week. Embassy needs a security review anyhow and I’m qualified, used to travel around a great deal. Now the wife wouldn’t like it. I get four days accrued leave as well. And, the icing on the cake: my wife and I have a condo out there, rented out when we don’t use it.’
I nodded. ‘A good investment maybe.’
‘My brother has a condo in Cancun.’
‘Tell him to sell it, this week.’
He stared at me long and hard. ‘Why, in particular?’
‘Most condos there were raised with cartel money, and … GCHQ cracked the cartel funding, and … the shit will soon fly.’
‘Oh.’
After take-off I read a paperback about the post-war strife in Burma and Nepal. It helped to pass the time, many passengers asleep, despite the fact that this was a day flight. Still, they had probably gotten up at 5am like me to get the flight, and so were probably tired. I could see many eye covers.
We landed in the dark after a long ten hours, and I had slept for an hour, my travelling companion having slept for six hours. At the exit I said goodbye to him, his task complete, and I met a man with a sign which said ‘Rizzo.’
‘What’s the password?’ I asked the black man.
He smiled widely. ‘Password be Smelly Arse, Boss.’
‘Correct.’
He drove me the short distance around to the executive jets and walked me in carrying my case, my passport shown to the nice lady there, this building the same one I had used here previously. I tipped him $20 and he left with a toothy grin.
For an hour I was treated like royalty, soon in a small luxurious Learjet and being offered champagne by cute air hostesses.
Declining the drink, I had just a two-hour flight to endure, a tasty meal served, soon landing at Tomsk’s airfield, the old No.7 stood waiting with a dozen men.
‘Did I get you out of bed?’ I asked in Russian.
‘I was up anyhow,’ he replied, and we hugged, men waved at or smiled at, soon in the jeeps and chatting about the Rizzo video. They had all seen it several times.
‘He will be here soon to join you. Stay up-wind of him,’ I told them. ‘We have a new war, against the cartels, a lot of money to spend. We will train snipers and send them out.’
‘This place, it is quiet now,’ No.7 told me as we drove along dark roads bracketed by trees. ‘So maybe we get a bonus if we go shoot some people..?’
‘I can arrange something, yes, some work with Carlos the Jackal in Mexico.’
‘We hear he is doing very well, expanding. You killed his rivals?’
‘I did, yes, with a little help.’
‘The Americans…’ he risked.
‘I talk to the CIA, yes, because they want the cartels dealt with. Tomsk and me, we help the CIA to destroy the cartels, and the Americans – they never come to arrest you lot.’
‘No?’
‘No. Never. The Americans, they break the law by talking to me and Tomsk. They can never admit to that.’
‘So no FBI landing here.’
‘No, never, you are safe.’
‘Then I buy a condo and rent it out, in the city.’
‘Good idea,’ I commended.
At Tomsk’s repaired villa I waved at guards, Tiny rushing out as Tomsk stood on the steps. I gave her a hug, despite the fact that we were trying to maintain the pretence of not being an item. I also hugged Tomsk from a step below.
‘Are you getting taller?’ I asked.
‘Fuck off,’ he said with a smile, leading me inside, my case dumped, jacket off.
‘It is late for you, so some food and rest, we talk in the morning,’ Tomsk told me.
‘Yes, Boss.’
‘And those APC, they are not cheap,’ he complained.
‘It’s a loan to the Government here, not a gift.’
‘They hand me islands to pay the loans, I build and then sell, a nice tourist trade now, planes flying again.’
I greeted Big Sasha. ‘Hey Big Lump.’
Tomsk laughed as Big Sasha held his hands wide and shrugged, and we were soon eating a late meal, chat of the cartel banker, and the second banker. Bob had given Tomsk the details, and Tomsk would also be investigating the man.
His lad walked in with a guard, in football kit and muddy. He was quite tall for twelve years old, and Hispanic in appearance, black hair.
‘Ah, you are back,’ Tomsk greeted him. ‘Did you win?
‘We lost 4-3,’ the lad admitted.
‘Late to be playing,’ I noted.
‘The infamous Petrov,’ the lad cheekily noted. ‘You look like Dave the double.’
Tomsk told me, ‘They play late, when it’s cooler.’
‘How’s your Russian?’ I asked the lad.
In Russian he said, ‘I could show your sister a good time for twenty dollars.’
Tomsk lost his smile. ‘I talk to the guards. Again.’
‘I got that from a movie, it had subtitles,’ the boy admitted.
‘Then don’t talk like that at your age,’ Tomsk warned.
The lad stood next to me looking up. ‘Can we practise Russian tomorrow?’
‘Sure.’
‘Get cleaned up,’ Tomsk encouraged the muddy lad, and the boy was led out.
Up in my usual room, Tiny closed the door and locked it. ‘Need a back rub, soldier?’
‘I do, yes, that was a long flight.’
‘Back still twinging?’
‘Now and then, but on the flight it was OK.’
We were soon in the palatial shower and washing each other, my stiff cock getting plenty of attention. On the huge bed, and still damp, she got on top, wet matted hair flailing about as she rode me, and I came just after her with a load moan.
‘Careful,’ she gasped. ‘They’ll hear us.’
‘They won’t upset me,’ I assured her. My phone trilled. ‘Bad timing,’ I said.
‘Good timing,’ she countered with ragged breath. ‘We’re done. I did you. Past tense.’ She flopped down next to me.
‘Wilco.’
‘Deputy Chief, can you talk?’
‘Just in bed with a super model.’
‘Ha. Well the shit has hit the fan, and the New York Times releases a story tomorrow. Your doing?’
‘Yes, because I figured the White House would protect the stock markets.’
‘Not now they won’t, CNN is mainlining it, already some loud calls. New York police are rounding up over a hundred suspects, FBI calling in more people from all over. A side note, two FBI managers are listed as missing, blood found. Any clues?’
‘I’d take a wild guess and say that they were running Tijuana cartel money.’
‘Jesus, the screams will be loud tomorrow.’
‘They were part of the FBI mob, so paint them as dirty.’
‘I’ll call their boss now and give him the bad news. Be a few folk calling for his head.’
‘So long as they’re not calling for yours.’
‘People already asking me if I leaked the detail.’
‘You never, so don’t worry.’
‘We reckon on six hundred million dollars in condos, maybe twice that.’
‘Sounds about right, yes.’
In the morning the news was not good, the Deputy Chief calling early. ‘Mexicans are mad as hell and demanding the money. They’re going to seize the condos and apartment blocks.’
‘And the people living in those condos?’
‘Get turfed out presumably.’
‘Are the Mexicans stupid or what? They already lost their tourist trade, so now they want to screw with the retirement trade?’
‘Their ambassador is on his way to the White House as we speak, news is coast to coast. That company has been suspended off the stock markets, and the DOW is down two hundred points already. New York DA made a hundred and sixty arrests overnight, some people fleeing. Luckily, he had it all laid out for him in a twenty-page fax.’
I smiled widely. ‘That does help, yes. Any clues as to where the fax came from?’
‘No, no trace on the fax server, but some sections used the British spelling.’
I would need to have a word with Bob Staines. ‘Could have been from New Zealand then.’
‘We do get a lot of faxes from them, yes,’ he joked.
‘I have another banker in my sights as we speak, more bad news for the stock markets next week.’
After the call I contacted Bob Staines. ‘Did you bet the downside of the American DOW?’
‘We did yes, myself and Leon. Just sold, took the profit.’
‘Bob, I think you may be stretching the law here.’
‘Rubbish, no laws broken if the money goes to a good cause.’
‘Well that’s OK then. And next time, send a fax with American spellings.’
‘That fax came from Tomsk’s people, some sections sent by us, so I guess they need to hide the British aspect. I’ll mention it to them. Oh, Rizzo is on his way to Madrid, be with you late tomorrow.’
‘Be odd to meet him out the unit.’
‘Tell him, first thing to do off the flight is a shower.’
I laughed. ‘Then a hooker and a beer.’
‘No doubt. Oh, the two FBI men…’
‘Deep State grabbed them.’
‘Then we hope for some shared information,’ he complained.
‘Sanitised, then shared,’ I warned him. ‘But they did provide the second banker, so they’re not all bad.’
‘Moran will head back tomorrow, a day of intel briefings today.’
‘Get him an escort back -’
‘I’ve got that sorted, don’t worry.’
An hour later, and the big meeting was due to take place, the Panama Minister in on it and still a little reserved around me. After lengthy greetings we sat around a large table, the new No.1 and No.2 here in combats since it would involve the resident Russian soldiers, a familiar Panama Army captain here, and several of Tomsk’s efficient managers, notepads to hand.
As I had requested, Tomsk had a new manager – a man he trusted – to head up this project. Tiny and Suzy sat to one side, Suzy with her hotel security boyfriend.
Now in uniform, I stood at the front, white boards laid out with maps of Central America. With a slight accent laid on, I began, ‘Ladies and gentlemen, this meeting is about a new project, and this new project is about removing cartels such as the Lobos and the Tijuana, the cartels that cause trouble. Other cartels make money and don’t kill for fun, and don’t attack the Americans or try to shoot down airliners.
‘We all saw what the threat of shooting down airliners did here in Panama, and we need to stop such men. I can inform you that the CIA has a new team, a narco team, a great deal of money to be spent on infiltrating and attacking drug cartels in Central America.’
The Minister asked, now worried, ‘They will look for you and Tomsk?’
‘No, they will not. I am speaking with them, and we will cooperate with them and hand over rival cartel men and information. Yesterday, the Americans got the information about the Tijuana money laundering in New York, and have arrested many and seized the assets – for which they are grateful to us, Minister.’
‘The White House knows about us?’
‘No, just certain men in the CIA. To the White House, Tomsk is a wanted man, so am I.’
‘But they will not want to come here,’ he pressed.
‘No, definitely not.’
‘You seem very sure.’
‘I am. Moving on. We will recruit and train men to attack the other cartels, but we will also use cash as a weapon – cash which we stole from the other cartels.’
A few faces smiled.
‘We will offer former cartel men a new passport here, a house and money, if they provide valuable information of course. I think the Colombians call it plato y plumb; the silver or the lead.’
‘Here also,’ the Minister noted. ‘In Parliament,’ he quipped.
‘So far, the plato is working well. As far as the Panama Army is concerned, we wish you to find some good men, men with families who will not sell out to the cartels, and we will select and train them. I have instructors on their way as well. The men’s new unit will be called the Panama Army Lone Wolves, as in Britain and America.
‘When they are ready they will operate along the border, but also inside Nicaragua and other countries. After a short time, we hope your borders will be very quiet places, Minister, so quiet that tourists will visit them.’
‘That will be a hard sell, to have a tourist hotel in FARC territory.’
‘Minister, we will remove the FARC, all of them, to within twenty miles of the border. We will also hit the criminal gangs in Panama City, till it is safe to walk at night.’
‘Another miracle, maybe in time for Christmas.’
I smiled, trying not to get annoyed as Tomsk shot the Minister a look. ‘We hope so. And in addition to the Lone Wolves, we will recruit men in Mexico and train them, and the CIA will cooperate with a pipeline into Mexico from their side.’
The Minister’s eyes widened.
‘Any men that are wounded will be treated in America and sent back here.’
‘They want the cartels gone very badly,’ the Minister noted.
‘They do,’ I agreed. ‘They were shocked by the attack on LAX Airport. So, we will bolster our friend Carlos the Jackal, and he will expand outwards. We will also talk to other cartels, if they wish to talk to us of course.’ I faced Tomsk. ‘To start, who do you deal with outside Colombia?’
‘We talk to many groups from time to time, but hard to trust them. Some Mexicans, they come to talk then go direct to Medellin and get a better price.’ He pointed at the map. ‘I sell to the group in Cancun, and they sell to tourists and ship some to Europe. So far … they are OK, Los Zetas. They control Mexico City and the east coast mostly.
‘If we are to deal with someone and help them, then these people are not to be left out, they have good customers.’
I marked the map.
Tomsk continued, ‘Sinola is below Carlos, but they fight amongst themselves and lose territory. I say we kill them. Of the others, none are serious customers now, I trust Carlos more, and some are dealing with the Colombians direct.’
‘So we leave Los Zetas and kill the rest,’ I noted.
‘Kill the rest?’ the Minister queried. ‘The entire Mexican Government and Army has never made any progress against them!’
‘We … are not those men, Minister. Have faith. And the American government will accidentally hand me hundreds of millions of dollars for my campaign.’
‘My god.’
‘Yes, Minister, it was a very bad idea to attack the Americans. They want blood.’
‘Stupid to attack America,’ Tomsk loudly agreed. ‘They will not sit st
ill and take it. And attacks on their home soil? Stupid of the Lobos and Tijuana, very stupid.’
Heads nodded in agreement.
‘And the Colombians?’ the Minister asked.
‘May have to be dealt with at some point, yes,’ I agreed. ‘So too the FARC, and … anyone else causing problems. We want to see just our people in this region, or those talking to us.’
I heaved a breath. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, we stand at a crossroads. The other cartels have pulled the lion’s tail, and now America has woken up and wants revenge.
‘I have a relationship with men in the CIA, and I struck a deal, and they will leave us alone. They will attack all other cartels, so you are all very lucky we have this deal in place.
‘This is an opportunity, to attack our rivals with the blessings of the CIA, DEA and FBI. At no other time will they turn a blind eye to this. Thanks to the stupidity of the cartels, we have been handed a map of the battlefield, and we know what the Americans will do.
‘Well, what the Americans want to do they cannot, their laws don’t allow it. So they wish us to do it for them, an amnesty for us afterwards, some money for our expenses, and we all pretend that we are friends for a while, a convenient alliance.
‘So, the plan. We will recruit good snipers, Hispanic men, Mexican men, and we will train them to be fantastic soldiers and snipers, and they will thin out the cartel men. And, as if by magic, the British and Americans will listen-in to the cartel phone calls and tell me what they are doing.
‘And if the cartel bosses meet in an isolated villa, I make a call, and a plane that cost $700m dollars will fly unseen and drop a bomb on them. We, ladies and gentlemen, are the eyes and ears of the Americans - for a while. They get what they want, we get what we want and remove our rivals.
‘But it is more than that, for me at least. We get to remove the gangs that kill for fun, gangs that set people on fire. I hope, for my own reasons, that we can make Mexico peaceful, as it is here now.
‘The drugs trade will never go, Mexicans will always be corrupt, husbands and wives will always argue. But we can do the best we can, now, when this door of opportunity opens for us, before the door closes.
‘On a hillside in Mexico I found a pregnant woman, a doctor, and we saved her.’ I wagged a finger. ‘We showed that we are men of honour. We shall show that again here, when we remove the bad men but not their families. Those of you involved in this project, hold your heads up high.