by Geoff Wolak
‘Those of us who can see the big picture are working hard to contain it, and muddy the waters, for the general good. Your military, and your political system, should not be tarnished by four men sat in a room playing God.’
He took in the view. ‘I saw men in Vietnam kill hookers, officers, and it turned my stomach. That’s what it feels like now, what to do about my own people.’
‘You find your moral compass, sir, and you make your own choice, alone.’
He faced me. ‘You’ve seen too much death, too much shit; you’ve managed to rationalise it all and not lose any sleep over it. Will what happened here affect our working relationship?’
‘No, sir.’
‘And Deep State?’
‘Might come for me, I killed their people. You know Senator Delaney?’
‘Yes, we go way back.’
‘He needs a top-down organisation, not people doing their own thing without oversight. What I got from Deep State was a lame comment of: we never knew. If you’re paying someone’s wages, you’re supposed to know what they’re doing.’
‘Hell yes. I’ll meet him when I get back, this could have been a disaster for us.’
‘Men playing God. Always a recipe for disaster, sir. When Terotski found out what Deep State was up to he turned against them, and so would most people. I don’t blame Terotski.’
‘We look good out of this campaign, the military, so it would be a damn shame to throw it all away because of a few shits with their own agendas.’ He sighed. ‘I always had reservations about Deep State, but they want what I want.’
‘Then change the bus driver, sir, don’t scrap the bus.’
He nodded. ‘Some work to do.’ We shook. ‘I hope we can get back on track, we achieved too much to have it all spoilt.’
‘Go recruit a new bus driver, sir. And if you need some help and advice you know where to find me.’
‘Good to know. And … don’t shoot me with a long-casing, I want an open casket when I die.’
I led him back, idle chit-chat for ten minutes before they departed, the Hawkeye easily taking off in half the runway length.
The Colonel approached. ‘All OK?’ he tentatively enquired.
I studied him for a moment. ‘If you had been in Vietnam, and you saw other young officers raping and killing, what would you have done?’
‘A difficult question. For the good on my unit I would have probably tried to deal with the matter quietly.’
‘And years later, when you sit on your rocking chair and remember..?’
‘I might regret past decisions, yes. But the modern day army is very different, not conscripts.’
‘Got news for you, sir, they’re no fucking different at all.’
He took a moment. ‘Did you get the men in shirts and ties?’
I nodded as I took in the view.
‘Doesn’t seem to have put a smile on your face…’ he noted.
‘The man most principally responsible was a colonel. Above him a Navy commander. They fired cruise missiles at your ships to boost the votes for the right wing back home.’
‘Jesus…’
‘Best keep that to yourself, sir, and … the men who they worked for, they like you, they think you’ll join them someday soon and do their bidding. Apparently, you have the right profile.’
He looked horrified. ‘My profile … suggests I’d work for them?’
‘It does, so maybe between now and then you find your moral compass, and realise that we have an elected government for a reason. They may be a bit useless, but there are check and balances to stop this kind of thing happening.
‘Someday you’ll make general, and have a small war to fight, men above you whispering in your ears about what to do. You’ll have choices to make that have nothing to do with the war at hand.’
‘They don’t teach that in staff college,’ he quipped. ‘They teach us to follow orders.’
‘Then do as I do, sir. Nod your head, say yes, but then go do your own thing.’ I took in the view. ‘Someone just like you started the Vietnam War, bombing his own people. And look how that turned out. Maybe someday you’ll be in that situation, a war to start. I hope you make the right choice at the time.’
‘Glad I came on this trip, it’s been an eye-opener for sure, and a good training ground. Not least about how to work with the CIA shits.’
‘That’s the important part, sir, soldiering is the easy part.’
I left Moran in charge and flew back to the villa, I had had enough double-dealing shit for a while.
Tiny came back at 4pm and sat with me by the pool. ‘War sorted?’ she asked.
‘I think so, but I’ll keep the teams here longer, good practise for them.’
‘You seem … distant.’
I took in the ocean. ‘This whole mess was caused by the little shits in Deep State, one part of the American system fighting the other part, a real waste of time and money, and almost a great many lives lost.’
‘Echo OK?’
‘Yes, just minor wounds. And they’re enjoying playing with the Hueys.’
‘14 Intel?’
‘No serious wounds.’
‘So that’s a silver lining then…’
I smiled, and we cuddled. ‘Been good to have you here, it helps take the pain away.’
‘Good to feel needed. Never felt needed before. I’m the obedient little wife that props up her man.’
I laughed, loudly. ‘You’ll never be the little wife, you’re the nutcase spy who burns men’s balls.’
‘I’m no nutcase,’ she protested.
‘To do this work, we’re all fucking nutcases.’
Tomsk arrived at 6pm with the Panama minister. I told the minister, ‘We’ve found and dealt with all the people involved. Their plans for Panama are now just forgotten ideas, for now at least.’
Tomsk put in, ‘I grabbed a man from the company in Brazil, a chief scientist something. They made him talk, and he gave me the location of the laboratory.’ He check his watch. ‘They get some visitors soon.’
‘So we may see peace here..?’ the minister asked.
‘People like the Medellin will always have ideas about being here,’ I told him. ‘But I had an idea, and made a call. We’ll see if my Uncle Sam can upset the Medellin a little.’
At 8pm Tinker called. ‘That company in Brazil you were interested in, it just blew up and burnt down. They had a small fire, so it was evacuated at the time. The entire nine storeys came down, controlled explosion.’
‘Those that live by the sword…’
‘They’ll need to start over, some new desks and beakers.’
I went and found Tomsk. ‘What did you do in Brazil?’
‘Who me?’ he said less than convincingly.
‘That drug company, their building came down.’
‘Probably a gust of wind,’ Tomsk suggested.
At 1am my phone trilled, Tiny complaining as we lay in bed. ‘Wilco.’
‘Package about to be delivered.’
‘Update me afterwards, I’ll have a human-eye assessment made.’
My phone trilled ten minutes later. ‘Package delivered.’
‘Thanks.’
‘What was that?’ Tiny asked.
‘Medellin, it has two principal bridges outside the town, both blown up, so the city’s residents will have some issues with getting about. Will take a year to rebuild the bridges.’
‘So how are the poor girls there going shopping tomorrow? That was mean that was.’
‘You look at this from a whole different angle, don’t you.’
In the morning, Tomsk was smirking. ‘I had Medellin on the phone, now very worried, their bridges blown. Just two back roads to use, already a traffic jam ten miles long.
‘And that lab in the jungle, I have their paperwork, and my scientist here thinks it might work, to make a better quality cocaine, and double the volume, so we’re looking at it.’
‘How much did they produce?’
/> ‘Very little, it was still being developed and tested. But, they could have made tonnes of it.’
We enjoyed a lengthy breakfast as a group, Suzy here with her man, the mood better than in recent weeks.
Tomsk informed me, ‘That lady doctor is opening a second clinic, I donated a million dollars.’
‘That was the money you found,’ I complained.
‘So, I still donate it and look good, eh.’
I shook my head at him.
After lunch, and in my greens, I drove with Tomsk to the first clinic, putting on my facemask as I stepped down, no webbing and no rifle.
In the busy waiting room, the buzz of chit-chat died very quickly, the crowd parting, the lady doctor now seeing me. She walked over and wiped an eye, a big hug dispensed, a loud applause from the sick, the reporter we arranged taking snaps.
I posed for the reporter, and then posed with various families, a group photo finally taken.
In her back office I took off the mask. ‘It seems you have found your calling.’
‘Yes, and I’ve met a man, another doctor.’ She keenly waved her ring at us.
‘If you pay his wages, you can boss him around,’ I told her.
‘Here in Panama, the woman controls the money.’
‘Which is why the men are always nervous.’
‘You fight the FARC?’
‘Yes, and the fighting is ended. Maybe now some peace.’
She faced Tomsk. ‘I found two nurses for the next clinic, they will travel around.’
‘Ah, good.’
‘And an old jeep for the poor hill roads.’
She faced me. ‘The TV people were here many times, and they filmed with a lady, my life story.’ She took a moment. ‘It was very hard, to talk about all that happened, but I want people to know what life here is like.’
Tomsk put in, ‘I will make sure it is seen around Central America.’
‘It may do some good,’ she sadly noted. ‘Maybe, someday, there’ll be a Petrov in Nicaragua.’
I exchanged a look with Tomsk. ‘You never know.’
I flew back to LZ2 the next day, the teams still patrolling out, the Lynx now being utilized every day. I had a look at the map and created a zig-zag course for teams to follow, and the Wolves were sent out in pairs, a forty mile trek to endure, and now it was raining each day around 4pm. I even had Billy and the Colonel lead patrols.
I had the spies sent on long missions with Mitch and Greenie, a good long walk each time, and 14 Intel were dropped off twenty miles east or west each day, a long walk back.
And Max, he had flown out to the George Washington and had flown in an EA-6 electronics bird, a catapult launch.
David called at 4pm, just as it started to rain. ‘Any fresh developments?’
‘No, it’s gone quiet, and the FARC have all fucked off home.’
‘And will you be returning to us any day soon?’
‘Do you have a pressing need for me there?’
‘Not pressing, but it would be good to have you ready for just such a pressing need – should a pressing need crop up.’
‘The teams are getting in the training, your spies, 14 Intel. All valuable stuff. How’s the weather there?’
‘Terrible.’
‘There you go, another good reason to be here in monsoon land.’
‘If you could wrap it up soon, we’d appreciate, us British taxpayers.’
‘Ouch.’
The next day I planned a route to the airstrip, forty-five miles, and teams set off at staggered intervals, the Marines first, the plan being to spend one night out under the stars. Or in this case, getting soaked in a muddy jungle.
I dispatched 14 Intel next, Robby complaining that we had perfectly good helicopters to hand. I had my regular troop go with them in case they ran into trouble.
The new American Wolves moved out as one long column, their NCOs at the head. They were followed by Swifty leading the veteran Wolves, also complaining about the available helicopters.
Taggard led off the SAS, and he’d have some deep muddy boot prints to follow. Running Bear got a helo ride back to ship after I thanked his team, the strip now looking quiet. The Colonel, Major Morgen and his team came next, hands shaken, Seahawks picking them up with the medics, questions asked about beach hotels.
I called Admiral Mulloy and thanked him, and told him we were leaving. He would turn his fat lady around and head south around the cape.
I finally rallied the men of Echo, now with Murphy and his mate assigned to us. And, with no one around to complain, the Hueys would ferry us to Tomsk’s damaged villa, the bunk houses mostly intact.
Flying off, I looked back at an empty hilltop, a little sad to be leaving, and the command post still stood, the trenches not filled in, litter left behind, the oil and petrol barrels still perched at the south end and ready to be rolled down.
Down at the villa come building site the men keenly grabbed rooms, Billy a little unhappy at being here. He was even more unhappy when the hookers arrived, and he abstained, sharing a room in the main house with Moran, Ginger and myself.
Beer and food arrived, and I drove off with Sasha, guards posted all around.
At the original villa, Tomsk asked, ‘They all settled?’
‘Yes. I’ll give them a day, then we fly.’
Washed up, we sat down to a large meal, Suzy and her man here again, Tiny pretending that we were not an item, No.3 and No.5 joining us with Gay Dave, and Tomsk looked and sounded better. But I had to wonder how many more attempts there would be to gain this prime real estate.
Gay Dave was improving his Russian, and Tomsk and the soldiers seemed to accept him.
Sasha was finally driven back, a little drunk, and I remained with Tiny. In our room, I said, ‘I was thinking of leaving Suzy here a while, it always helps to have someone with the local knowledge.’
‘And me..?’
‘I want you back in the UK, some training for you.’
‘Oh. That all?’
‘And the odd trip to Bournemouth.’
‘From Panama to Bournemouth. You really know how to spoil a girl,’ she complained.
‘Would you like to join the rest of 14 Intel, a few weeks in a trench?’
‘Nope, uh-uh, not really.’
‘It is what you’re paid to do, what they expect you to do.’
‘But I’ve shown what I can do.’
‘Yes, so now you’re on the team, and you go where I go. But … if you really want to stay here, and not see me again, I’ll sanction it.’
‘I never said that, just … why can’t you get some work here, or Miami, an Aston Martin, a helicopter.’
I wagged a finger. ‘Careful, girl, or you go back to 14 Intel. But I will sanction trips for you here, a few times a year. And I have some work for you in the south of France.’
‘That’s more like it. Nudist beaches and casinos.’
A long 48 hours later we landed back at Brize Norton, into freezing wind and rain, everyone complaining.
Billy told me, ‘I regret what I said about that muddy hole now. Now it’s looking good.’
The buses ferried us with a heavy escort of local police and MPs, and we were soon through a cold wet gate at 8pm. In my house, we found the heating on, milk and bread, a note from MP Graveson. We owed him some money.
Kit unloaded, all of it stinking, we got the washing machine on, then sat with a brew.
‘How was that walk?’ I finally asked as I studied the floor.
‘Got lost and hit some nasty jungle, slowed us up.’
‘There’re a few nasty valleys, yes. Where me and Sasha jumped, that was nasty.’
‘I liked the Hueys, better than walking. Rizzo loves Hueys, wants us to get some.’
I sipped my tea as the washing machine made a noise. ‘I dealt with the men organising the missiles. Might be quiet now.’
‘Said that after Lord Michaels. Different month, different shits causing trouble.’
; ‘Yep,’ I sighed out.
‘What’s next?’ he asked after a moment.
‘Training the Wolves. They get a break, then … maybe Mauritania.’
‘Murphy with us now.’
‘Yeah, he shoots like Davey Crockett, and he likes the work.’
My phone trilled. ‘It’s Kate!’
I jumped up. ‘Are you OK.’
‘Some horrid man cut me up, then I tooted him, then he jumps out and shouts at me sword in hand, then his head exploded.’
‘Ah…’
‘What the hell does that mean?’
‘My people follow you, discretely.’
‘I haven’t seen any.’
‘Like I said, discretely.’
‘So what the hell do I say to the police?’
‘Nothing, just that you’re pregnant and in shock and you have no idea what happened, no mention of my men. I’ll deny the men are with me anyhow. And why are you driving?’
‘Don’t you start as well!’ She cut the call.
‘Problems?’ Swifty asked as I sat.
‘Kate got attacked by a man with as sword, and her protection shot him in the head.’
‘Just as well. What’s the issue?’
‘The men are … not licensed or approved for UK streets.’
‘Who are they?’
‘Can’t say.’
‘You kept that team quiet.’
I shot him a look. ‘How many times have we had a fucking leak!’
He eased back. ‘A few, yes. Just as well to keep them off the grid. London don’t know about them?’
I shook my head and sipped my tea.
‘Just as well, don’t know who to trust in London.’
I checked my watch and called David. ‘My lady, Kate Haversham, was attacked by a road-rage driver with a sword, then his head exploded.’
‘He was shot. Your men?’
‘Ghosts.’
‘Oh, I see. I’ll get on that now. You kept that quiet.’
‘I did, yes, that way no leaks.’
‘I’d like to argue the case, but … I’d lose. I take it they won’t make a statement.’
‘They don’t exist.’
‘I’ll deal with it. And my old assistant?’