Wilco- Lone Wolf 20

by Geoff Wolak

  Wilco:

  Lone Wolf

  Book 20

  Copyright © Geoff Wolak

  Started January, 2014

  This book is historically very accurate in places, technically correct for the most part, yet it is fiction, really fiction, definitely fiction, and any similarity to real people or real events – although accidental - is probably intentional. Some characters in this book may be based on some of the wankers I have either worked with or unfortunately met over the years.

  Email the author: gwresearchb@aol.com

  www.geoffwolak-writing.com

  McDonald’s and cocaine

  I woke feeling guilty, and I thought about Cecilia as I lay there. Tiny had her arm over me, and it felt good, it felt very good. I had not spent much time with Cecilia, and maybe it would have worked, but right now I considered that she was in danger, real danger, the ex-Deep State idiots probably interested in anyone I was in a relationship with.

  I ran a gentle hand over Tiny’s perfect small arse cheeks and sighed, torn between what could been if I was normal, and the living legend persona that followed me around like an unwelcome smell. But if I was a painter-decorator in the UK, would Tiny have any respect for me, would we date like a normal couple? Would I be boring?

  Then there was Kate, due to give birth, and my daughter. I would need to arrange discrete protection, a driver maybe. I considered having Bob Staines arrange someone since the cost of a full time driver and bodyguard might be argued both by the MOD and the British public alike.

  Leaving Tiny sleeping, I quietly stepped to the balcony in just my trousers, the dawn coming up, a nod at a guard below, and I called David Finch. It would be 9am in London. ‘Get a secure Chinese sat phone and call me back.’

  ‘Oh. That doesn’t sound good.’

  He called back fifteen minutes later, time for me to have a shit and a quiet shower as Tiny slept. ‘This is an unregistered sat phone, and it bounces through the Royal Navy’s secure system. You have a concern about our office phones?’

  ‘I have a concern about the CIA and Deep State being involved with the FARC, so it’s a precaution.’

  ‘Involved … how?’

  ‘What you don’t know yet, what I kept from Langley, was that an ex-CIA guy, Charley Rose, was advising the FARC. I killed him.’

  ‘I remember Charley Rose, he was stationed in London, and he was a good man and a good agent, some scandal and he was let go.’

  ‘He claimed his innocence, so I guess he might have had a score to settle. Don’t run his name, but assume he was dirty and dig around. But let’s work on the assumption that he was a patriot, as they thought him to be, and that he was working for Deep State, plans for global domination, a McDonalds on every street corner.

  ‘And let’s assume that the Canadian contractors found that they didn’t like Deep State’s plans, and turned against them, faking their own deaths to be free of them. So let’s assume that these Deep State plans are not that palatable to the average man.

  ‘I think someone saw me build up Tomsk and figured they could do it for themselves, money to be made, money to be used by Deep State for naughty jobs. We have Spectre, they have their own version. Let’s call them Outside State for now, run by someone we'll label as … Zulu.

  ‘I think Zulu has issues with his team, because that team fired cruise missiles at the US Navy, and I don’t think Outside State are that dumb. But, maybe they’re not that dumb, and maybe an aircraft carrier on fire would be enough for the voters to back something radical, a thirst for revenge, a small war started. Question is … where?

  ‘I know Zulu exists, but I’m not sure what’s on his mind. I’m sure he wants Tomsk replaced and to have access to the drugs trade -’

  David cut in, ‘To try to take over the drugs trade is ludicrous, if that is what these chaps are thinking. Even to replace Tomsk would be damn hard because he has a Russian network, trust built up over decades, a pipeline built up over decades.

  ‘There’ll be some port official in Los Angeles that has worked with him for ten or more years. With Tomsk out the way our friends in Outside State would need to recruit people like the port official, and that’s damn hard and takes years of trust.’

  ‘What if their plan is simpler than that? What if they aim to destroy the cartels after discrediting them, then strike a deal with the growers, cut out Central America all together? They don’t need a pipeline, just the growers.’

  ‘Yes,’ David agree. ‘But they still need to sell the product, and the local dealers in America are not the most trustworthy of people, someone would get caught and talk and soon the FBI would be suspicious of where the drugs came from.

  ‘No, no matter which way you look at this they’ll fail. They might try it, but they’ll end up failing, it’s just too hard a task to complete, too many people involved for it to be kept secret, too many cogs and wires. And when they fail the fallout will be huge.’

  ‘But they did try, and will try again…’

  ‘Yes, and anyone who knows what you did with Tomsk will be jealous as hell, especially if they want some money to retire on. So they will try, but fail.’

  ‘And if I hit the cartels, am I assisting them by accident?’ I posed.

  ‘If they aim to cut out the cartels apart from the growers, then no. They need Medellin - the growers, not Tiujana – the pipeline people.’

  ‘Someone set off bombs in Medellin, no one hurt.’

  ‘A message. Someone sent a warning.’

  ‘I can’t see Zulu doing that, he needs them. He’d not risk upsetting them,’ I pointed out.

  ‘No, would seem odd. Was it Tomsk?’

  ‘He says no, he buys from them.’

  ‘So we have a concern, someone good enough to get ten car bombs in place without being seen, no one caught. They’re professionals, and to have the audacity to hit Medellin in their home town is staggering.’

  ‘Which brings us back to Outside State, and their real agenda here. And what I do next.’

  ‘What will you next?’ David asked, an annoying question, because he was supposed to be telling me what to do.

  ‘White House will want the FARC hit, and our PM will agree, and … all sides want FARC detached from any missiles they may have.’

  ‘Me included.’

  ‘I know that Charlie Rose and Zulu were hand-in-hand with the FARC, so if I go for the FARC the resistance will be tough, and sophisticated. FARC will be getting my comms traffic and satellite images.’

  ‘Yes, a worry.’

  ‘But the best bet for dealing a blow to Zulu would be to hit the FARC again. Question is, are Deep State supporting Zulu, and is there some odd agenda here that I’m missing? My concern is that I do what the White House wants but upset Deep State, or at least a faction within Deep State.’

  ‘What has your contact said?’

  ‘He doesn’t know who the faction are, and maybe he doesn’t know what all the legs of the octopus are doing. And he’s not warned me off anything.

  ‘But keep in mind, these people were in bed with the Belgian bank, and they had conflicting interests there; I was finding out things that my contact should have known. And again with Terotski. My contact thought him dead, but Zulu was working with him.’

  ‘Yes, an octopus with many legs, and a mess.’

  ‘I can understand them wanting to replace Tomsk and get at the money, but the missiles made no sense, and those missiles were fired after Terotski and Li Xing were killed by Deep State, so maybe they were fired in anger.’

  David noted, ‘Outside State seems to be fractious, to say the least. No unity of purpose, and the missile attacks could have been a warning, or revenge for killing Terotski and Li Xing, yes. What a tangled web.
Question is, what comes next, and I guess we won’t like it.’

  ‘My instinct is to go after Zulu and take his toys off him, so some guidance from you would be appreciated. Boss.’

  ‘Well, as you said, everyone wants to go after the people with the missiles, which is FARC, but by doing so you may incur the wrath of Outside State and end up fighting a war on two fronts.’

  ‘And we don’t dare expose either Deep State or Outside State,’ I pointed out.

  ‘No, that would cause the American public to lose faith in the CIA.’

  I heaved a sigh. ‘So … I go after FARC and try to get the people assisting them as they try hard to get me killed, or discredited, or swapped with a body double.’

  ‘Yes, a war on two fronts.’

  ‘We need to unravel what Outside State really wants, to have a hope of winning here, but if I hurt Outside State then Deep State may be pissed off.’

  ‘Then consult with your chap, and see what he says.’

  ‘Do me a favour, off the books. Go see GCHQ, and have them run every phone we’ve ever captured, or suspect, against the Washington area code.’

  ‘If you identify an Outside State member sat at home with his family watching TV, what would you do?’

  ‘Not sure, but we may need to have some ammunition to use against them when the time comes.’

  ‘I can have the Director there do it on the quiet. If these chaps are involved with harming our interests we may need to push back when the time comes – they’re not the elected government of America. And that’s the bit we need to keep in focus here, what they truly are. If Spectre crossed the line and discredited a politician here without good cause, then Spectre would be in the wrong.’

  ‘Good job then that Spectre has a loyal servant to Queen and Country, and no grudges.’

  ‘No grudges? None?’

  ‘He has his self-respect, he built Echo, he’s doing something good for Queen and Country, and does not hold a grudge against you lot.’

  ‘Good to know, because that brings me on to my next point. My assistant, Bob’s old assistant, has been let go this morning. He punched another chap on the nose.’

  ‘And this other chap did what?’

  ‘He made a comment: always the bridesmaid, never the bride.’

  ‘Ah. Get him to call me.’

  ‘Expect a call.’

  Bob’s old assistant called me back half an hour later, Tiny still asleep. ‘Wilco?’

  ‘Yes, how’s life at your end?’

  ‘They sacked me, that’s how life is, so why do I need to be calling you? I have a piece of paper that says I get arrested if I call someone like you,’ he testily stated.

  ‘Are you ready to retire, pipe and slippers, or would you like to come and work for me?’

  ‘Work for you? The intel team at GL4?’ he asked, quieter and with less attitude.

  ‘Not quite, but similar. And you would be in danger.’

  ‘I’m not quite the field agent...’

  ‘You’d be in an office, doing good work for Queen and Country, better pay and conditions, no one hassling you, and you work till you hit sixty-five, or whenever you like to retire.’

  ‘What would I be doing?’

  ‘Exactly the same as you’ve been doing these past years, intel work. No change, a seamless transfer almost.’

  ‘But not at GL4…’

  ‘No. Question is, would you like to work with me?’

  ‘Well … yes, you’re where the action is.’

  ‘What was your opinion of the late Bob Staines?’

  ‘He was a good man and an excellent Head of Operations, another career cut short because of the bullshit.’

  ‘Rumour has it, he’s not quite cold yet.’

  After a long pause came, ‘Bob is alive? And working with you still?’

  ‘You may think that, I could not possibly comment.’

  ‘Fucking ... hell.’

  ‘You have a family?’

  ‘Not really, no wife and kids. Divorced.’

  ‘You like France?’

  ‘Love it, always holiday there.’

  ‘Pack up all of your stuff, put your affairs in order, rent out your house or sell it, then take a holiday to Nice and call me, but don’t take too long, we have a war on and people trying to kill me. I have need of a good man.’

  ‘Be sorted in a few days. Bloody hell…’

  I called Bob Staines next, a glance over my shoulder at a sleeping Tiny. ‘No.1, I have an assistant for you, so call him No.2.’

  ‘An assistant?’

  ‘Your old assistant, who became David Finch’s assistant.’

  ‘Terry?’

  ‘He punched a man on the nose, so they let him go. Do you think you can work with him as you did before, because he thinks he could work for you?’

  ‘Well … yes, we were hand in glove, a good team.’

  ‘He’ll put his affairs in order and head down to Nice.’

  ‘I have his old number, I’ll call him in a day or two. But what about David Finch?’

  ‘It was his idea.’

  ‘It was? That … surprises me.’

  ‘He praised you for that fax you sent, and appreciates you.’

  ‘Well, good to know he appreciates my work.’

  ‘Bob, the only thing that matters is that I appreciate you. And for the most part you’re doing a better job than London. And that brings us to our next headache. An ex-CIA man, Charley Rose -’

  ‘I knew him.’

  ‘He joined the FARC, I killed him.’

  ‘Bloody hell.’

  ‘I think he was Deep State, at least a faction, which David and I refer to as Outside State. Its leader we call Zulu. Need to find Zulu and put him in the ground I think, but they will be alert to anyone looking. So, Bob, I need you to develop a penetration of Washington, money spent.’

  ‘Easier than you think. I’ll make a start, we have an excellent budget.’

  I called Tinker. ‘It’s me. Get Reggie back in the office, I have a project for him.’

  ‘Ah, good, we was asking. He misses being with the team. What’s the project?’

  ‘Deep State.’

  ‘Oh shit.’

  ‘We need to be quiet, or there could be an attack at the base which interrupts the fishing,’ I quipped. ‘Anyhow, your director will be asked to run all our bad boy phones against the Washington area code. Question is, can you get old phone data for Washington?’

  ‘I know a man or two good with hacking computers. And we’d route it through China, they’d get the blame.’

  ‘Get on it, but Sanderson should not know.’

  ‘Understood.’

  Phone down, I glanced over my shoulder at Tiny in bed, and I was concerned for her, soon angry, angry that the world would not leave me alone. And that I was the idiot that allowed myself to get into this mess.

  With Tiny finally awake I handed her a cup of tea and sat next to her on the bed.

  ‘How long you been up?’ she asked.

  ‘Since 5am.’

  ‘If we were married I’d drug you, or batter you to death. I like my sleep.’

  ‘Did I wake you?’

  ‘I don’t think so, no. I sleep well here in Panama.’

  ‘You don’t fret about the dangers, like a big dildo-shaped cruise missile coming through the window?’

  She giggled and shook her head. ‘Maybe I’m stupid, but I like it here, and I have real work to do.’

  ‘A sense of purpose,’ I noted. ‘That’s what most people need to get them up in the mornings.’

  After a shower together we had sex on the bed, but slowly, and we walked down together for breakfast at 9am.

  ‘You sleeping late these days?’ Big Sasha asked.

  ‘No, I was up early and on the phone.’

  ‘Trouble here finished?’

  I gave him a worried look and shook my head.

  ‘They keep coming for him?’

  I nodded. ‘They all want thi
s territory.’

  ‘I keep telling him to retire. He has the money.’

  ‘He’s like me, and would be bored sat down doing nothing. We all need a purpose to get out of bed.’

  I used the pool after breakfast, then sat thinking for an hour, Tiny off to the La Palma hotel to check for strangers, her ‘day job’ as she called it, 9-5, lunch with her co-workers.

  Tomsk joined me for his breakfast. ‘Will those soldiers stay at my hotel much longer?’ he complained.

  ‘They saved your arse, so leave them be. But some will join me in the next step, the fight against the FARC.’

  ‘You think the FARC will make trouble?’

  Big Sasha placed down an omelette for Tomsk, coffee and juice.

  ‘I’d bet good money on it, but they’re not the ones calling the shots here. They had ex-CIA men helping them, and they still do. You heard anything about the car bombs in Medellin?’

  ‘They asked me if I knew. I told them that if it was me the bombs go off when people are awake and nearby.’

  ‘Bribe the police in Bogota and Medellin, try and get the forensics on the bombs, and where the cars came from. And today.’

  ‘Who do you think it was?’

  ‘Part of me thinks it was Deep State, a warning, but I can’t figure all the players and the motives yet.’

  Tomsk cut up his omelette. ‘A lot of people talking about the Bolivian. The Americans bombed him, his family wiped out, his house just rubble.’

  ‘I asked them to.’

  ‘You?’

  I nodded as I took in the ocean. ‘He nudged a boss in the Tiujana Cartel to attack the airfield at La Ninga, and to blame Cholos. My men could have been killed, I could have been killed.’

  ‘He was screwing around, and with that coffee boat. But he’ll be replaced, business as usual in Bolivia soon.’ He shrugged. ‘Carlos is doing well, many orders, we are moving plenty of product, soon no surplus.’

  ‘You have men on the border?’

  ‘Yes, people looking for FARC, no signs so far.’

  ‘Is there an airstrip near the border?’

  ‘There is one on the east side, small airport.’