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Wilco- Lone Wolf 20

Page 18

by Geoff Wolak


  Pink helmet on, scooter started with some basic instructions, and she pulled away at a slow speed, soon attracting odd looks as she went around the perimeter track.

  An hour later she was swerving around traffic cones, the instructor holding up a boom so that she had to duck, the MPs smiling at the scene.

  At 2pm I was called for as I cleaned kit in my house, and I jogged to the gate, finding Tiny remonstrating with a huge police officer, his car parked.

  ‘Can I help you officer?’

  ‘This lady works for you?’

  ‘I’m Wilco, and yes she does.’

  Tiny got out, ‘He pulled me over because he thought I was an underage driver!’

  I laughed so hard she tried to kick me, the MPs restraining her. I faced the officer. ‘She’s not underage.’

  ‘She left the scene, and threatened to assault me.’

  ‘How tall are you?’

  He glanced at the smirking MPs. ‘Six foot six.’

  ‘And twenty stone. Would you like your picture in the local paper, stood next to her? Or maybe The Sun newspaper. I could call them if you like.’

  ‘I’ll leave her for you to deal with, sir.’ He drove off in a huff.

  ‘Tiny,’ I called. ‘First rule of working undercover, don’t draw attention to yourself.’

  ‘Bollocks.’

  She mounted up and sped past, the MPs all smirking.

  The MP Captain put in, watching her go, ‘I’m just glad she never punched him in the balls.’

  In the morning two men turned up, time-served house burglars, and Tiny would now try and break into the base houses and buildings with a variety of tricks and tools. I jumped into the car with MP Graveson and we headed up to London with CT police behind us. They were taking no chances these days.

  At Vauxhall I got the lift up, a new face to replace Terry, soon in with the Director and David.

  ‘Are you recovered?’ David asked, tea made.

  ‘No injuries this time. I’m becoming a manager.’

  ‘I think they call them officers … in the Army.’

  I shot him a look. ‘Yes, I’m delegating more.’

  ‘That company in Brazil, the one whose headquarters got blown up, they’re now under investigation by the authorities there, arrests made. Well, arrests of those still alive. Body parts of the others were found.’

  ‘Tomsk was not pleased with them.’

  The Director asked, ‘And the chances of a leak?’

  ‘Deep State are cleaning house, and it’s in their interests to cover this up, but there were many people involved.’

  David noted, ‘The Colombian authorities are at a loss to explain how the body of the man recovered from the plane wreckage was accidentally incinerated.’

  ‘His DNA would have been hard to explain. He was certified as being dead many years ago.’

  The Director asked, ‘Do we know for sure want the exact plan was?’

  ‘Deep State admits to separate secret departments, no crossover, no idle chat around the water cooler, and that Raywood went too far. And Raywood’s mother was a drug addict, died when he was ten, so he had a grudge against drug users in general - and their suppliers in particular I guess.

  ‘When I spoke to Senator Delaney about cruise missiles being fired at ships he was not too fussed about it, but claimed he never knew. I did, however, chat to General Boltwier and set him straight about Deep State. He’ll now be a very cautious friend to them.’

  David noted, ‘I spoke to the Head of Station here, and he thinks it was the FARC, and that they have all the players and the pieces.’

  ‘He’s talking crap, just for show. But if the CIA thinks that, and the Congressional Oversight Committees, then great.’

  ‘And the Deputy Chief?’ the Director asked.

  ‘I hinted at a few things, and he’ll try and bury evidence for his own sake. Charley Rose would embarrass him. And Terotski, he gave them up, hidden messages in insurance documents that he hoped we’d find. Our ghost found them.’

  ‘And how is Terry?’ the Director asked.

  ‘Hand in glove, a mug with his code name on. Oh, you know Reggie from GCHQ?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘He’s heading south, soon to have a mug with his own code name on.’

  ‘Building the team and the talent,’ she noted.

  ‘It’s needed,’ I insisted. ‘Someday, Deep State might be more push and shove than a quiet request for cooperation.’

  ‘Yes, a worry,’ she agreed. ‘But we can’t shove them back. And this Susan Knight, she’s available to us?’

  ‘Yes, but she’s best suited to hotels and casinos, were no one considers her a threat. And she kills without remorse or lost sleep. Two men kidnapped her, underestimated her, both stabbed in the neck.’

  ‘Crikey,’ David let out.

  ‘Make sure you’re never held responsible for what she does,’ I warned them. ‘She may follow the mark, or stab him to death for fun. I have in mind she works with Bob.’

  ‘Perhaps better suited,’ David agreed. ‘Oh, we got a written proposal from GCHQ, had your name on it, the new super database. It’s with the JIC and the PM.’

  ‘Our ghost will transfer twenty million for it.’

  The Director eased up. ‘He seems … cash rich?’

  ‘He and The Banker, they spy on company directors discretely, then trade the stock markets. So it’s all above board.’

  ‘I think the spying part might not be above board,’ David noted.

  The Director asked, ‘You don’t worry about Bob running off with the money?’

  ‘No, he likes the work, gives him a sense of purpose. He built Echo, he wants to see it do well. If he was sat on a beach with money he wouldn’t be happy. And what happened to Hollister’s wife?’

  ‘Diminished responsibility, manslaughter,’ David told me.

  ‘The shooters at my hotel?’

  ‘We think we have a lead, a man in Prague, but he looks like the paid help.’

  ‘Got his details?’

  David fetched them, wrote them down and handed them to me. ‘Will you have a quiet word?’

  ‘It may be a loud word.’

  ‘You won’t have seen this.’ He dug out a high-quality sketch, like a cartoon image. ‘They could not show the photo, so they got away with the drawing. It was in the papers last week.’

  I stared at the image, me sat next to Pete’s body, a sad look on my face.

  David showed me The Sun newspaper. The title read: How many more? ‘The story was asking, how many more people killed by terrorists and gunmen.’

  The Director put in, ‘There has been a loud call for better police units, and an increase in budgets for the counter-terrorism units.’

  I sighed. ‘Maybe I should just go away. Then it would be quiet.’

  David noted, ‘Then they get away with it, and Lord Michaels would be running West Africa, and Deep State would be running amok in Central America.’

  The Director noted, ‘There are now far more CT police on the streets of London, mobile patrols.’

  ‘How’s Mister Kitson?’

  ‘He’s cleaned house,’ David began. ‘A few arrests, some let go. He holds his head up high.’

  She asked, ‘How did our team do in Panama?’

  ‘They suffered weeks living in a hole in the ground, in danger, and managed to smile and joke about it. Not sure about the spy work, but they can soldier well enough.

  ‘If the mission was for them to sneak across a border in Central America and kill someone - they could do it well.’

  ‘Good to know.’

  ‘14 Intel recruited some better people I hear..?’

  ‘Yes, profiled. They start with you soon. We’ll be keen to see if they shine.’

  I nodded. ‘No superstars noticed with the current lot.’

  ‘We borrowed some of the first batch of CT police, and they work well,’ David noted.

  The Director asked, ‘You grabbed two American
Wolves..?’

  ‘Yes, both shit hot. Not sure they’d be suitable for you, they talk like hick town teenagers. But if the mission was to get up on a roof and shoot someone a thousand yards out without leaving any evidence, they could do that.’

  ‘Interesting,’ David noted, a look at the Director. ‘And Senator Phillson?’

  ‘Any evidence left lying around?’

  ‘Only the prints of Lee Harvey Oswald. That, and the lack of evidence, is causing a great cry of conspiracy in America. They think he was killed by the mob.’

  ‘Might have been. Who knows, and who cares, eh.’

  They exchanged looks.

  ‘So, do you have anything for me to look at?’ I asked.

  ‘Training and selecting superstars for us,’ she suggested.

  ‘Tiny, she’ll walk through a crowded room without being seen, steal your wallet and leave without being seen.’

  ‘Good skills to possess in our game,’ the Director noted.

  ‘Next week I’ll send her up for some cat and mouse. Have her stay a night in each of the best hotels, so that she knows them, I’ll sort her some cash for the casinos. Then, when the need arises, she can play cat and mouse here.’

  David made a note. ‘Oh, Americans got a note from the Medellin, that they had cleaned house themselves. They’re terrified of a B2 bomber. Another B2 bomber I mean.’

  ‘Might make them go quiet for a while, but people will always be jealous of Tomsk.’

  ‘It’s reported that the Tiujana Cartel are having a hard time selling drugs,’ David told me.

  ‘Tomsk has developed test kits, and he’s sent them to the States, for his distributors to use. People will copy the kits I think.’

  ‘I should think so, yes,’ David agreed. ‘But the samples found in Europe?’

  ‘Fakes. They never produced much of it, they were still gearing up.’

  ‘So there are no tainted batches out there?’ the Director asked.

  I shook my head. ‘Not that we know of.’

  ‘And Gay Dave, so called?’ David asked.

  ‘Still with Tomsk, improving his Russian so that he can pass for me and make people think I’m there. That way Tomsk is safer.’

  ‘And could he be used for anything useful?’ David asked.

  I shot him a look. ‘He looks like me, so wherever he goes he’ll attract too much attention, and have people shooting at him. There’s still a reward for Petrov.’

  ‘And the third man?’

  ‘Not heard of him popping up anywhere, so … someday soon he’ll do something to embarrass me. Do we have an interest in Kosovo?’

  David replied, ‘The writing on the wall is that the Kosovans will fight, and see independence, and NATO will probably assist, but no decision has be made yet about boots on the ground. But if airstrikes are called for, then SAS on the ground will be needed.’

  ‘And Algiers, I read something in the papers?’

  David replied, ‘French Echo are involved, numerous aggressive groups in the south, a few villages attacked.’

  ‘Would regular SAS go into Kosovo, or my lot?’

  The Director noted, ‘Your lot are more likely to come back out alive.’

  ‘The American Wolves would be suited,’ I told them. ‘And we can’t stop the Americans from using them. If the job is to sneak in and call airstrikes, then that’s their wartime role in a nutshell.’

  ‘For the British Wolves also,’ David pointed out.

  ‘So … should I have them training for Kosovo or the desert?’

  ‘I’d say Kosovo,’ David answered, a look exchanged with the Director.

  Back at GL4, I bumped into Tiny in the canteen. ‘How did you get on?’ I asked, sat with her and two 14 Intel men, the canteen quiet at 7pm.

  ‘Great fun, I’m looking forwards to a career as a cat burglar, jewellery to steal.’

  ‘Next week you play cat and mouse in London, a night in each of the best hotels so that you know the layout.’

  ‘Even better.’

  ‘And no, you can’t steal any jewellery. You’ll be tasked with getting from A to B without being seen or getting caught, then tasked with spotting the spies. Get a London Tube map and study it.’

  ‘I have one.’

  ‘Take some ID in case they don’t let you in the hotel bars.’

  Her colleagues laughed as she squinted at me.

  ‘See me before you leave for the weekend,’ I told her.

  Two hours later I swapped my old car for a hire car in Swindon without protection in tow, and met Tiny in Bournemouth, the Royal Hotel, a nice room on the top floor, a view of the pier and the freezing water. At least the radiators were warm.

  ‘It’s not quite the Ritz,’ she complained.

  ‘I’m a poor soldier.’

  ‘You have cash, so do I.’

  ‘My cash is not used for me having a good time. If it was and I got caught, then all of the past few years would have been for nothing. When you risk your life, you do it for the right cause, not for cash.’

  ‘OK, granddad, chill.’

  We headed out for a meal wrapped up warm. ‘I mentioned you to London, but we see you as … not their kind of material.’

  ‘What the hell does that mean?’ she asked as we walked.

  ‘Would you fill in your expenses forms correctly, and on time, two quid fifty for a sandwich?’

  ‘Fuck no, I have money.’

  ‘To be a spy for London you fill in a time sheet. Do you want to fill in a time sheet?’

  ‘Fuck no.’

  ‘So, coming back to your suitability for London work…’

  ‘So what would I do?’

  ‘Work for me, and for a man in the south of France, a former senior manager in London Intel. He founded Echo but now works outside the system, no timesheets to fill in.’

  ‘London pays for it?’

  ‘No, Tomsk paid for it partly, French Intel.’

  ‘So … what would I be doing exactly?’

  ‘Training, till something crops up. And things often crop up.’

  We found a nice restaurant, not too many people, and sat down to eat, talk of planned training scenarios. She wanted to know how to hack computers, so we would add it to the list.

  In the morning, David called early. ‘The FBI wanted to speak to you regarding the recent campaign, but we can block it. If we do block it … well, it will seem odd.’

  ‘I can’t answer all of their questions.’

  ‘No, and they probably appreciate that, but they will pressure us. Had an invitation for you to attend a Congressional Hearing as well.’

  ‘That would be a bad idea.’

  ‘Yes, they could ask some awkward questions, and would not let you sit in a mask. Still, the US media loves you right now. Final point, the CIA Deputy Chief lands tonight, wants to meet.’

  ‘I can drive up.’

  ‘With plenty of protection.’

  ‘OK, I’ll bring condoms.’

  He sighed. ‘The other kind of protection.’

  Called ended, I said to Tiny, ‘Pack your bag, we’re off to London.’

  ‘What we doing?

  I started to pack the few things I had taken out of my bag. ‘You’re doing nothing save some shopping, room near mine, I’ll need to chat to the CIA.’

  ‘London is better than here,’ she adamantly stated.

  ‘Book into my hotel, it’s not too bad. And check the hotel for people likely to want to shoot me. I’ll drop you in Swindon, you get the train, I have to take the armed posse. And don’t be seen. Start practising, get a disguise. A black wig.’

  ‘So much for the relaxing weekend.’

  I stood tall and faced her. ‘Would you rather be here, or tracking the bad guys?’

  ‘Well, tracking the bad guys. In a hotel in the Seychelles, cocktail in hand.’

  ‘Pack, enlisted woman.’

  ‘Do I have a title?’

  ‘Field agent, I suppose.’

  ‘Do the
y have ranks?’

  ‘No, but office bound intel managers do. We’ll call you No.4.’

  ‘Why No.4?’

  ‘There are three people working in France, apart from the sub-contractors. They have numbers for security.’

  ‘Call me No.7 then, like Channel No.7.’

  I smiled. ‘Lipstick assassin.’

  We were soon checking out early and we hit the traffic, but I used the back roads up to Bath Hampton and then up to the M4, down to Swindon, where I dropped her at the main train station, soon returning my hire car early.

  They had my private car in their lot, I had paid them extra for that, and I searched it carefully for bombs. I even started the engine whilst leaning through the window.

  Back at GL4, at the gate, I shouted for them to get ready, a trip to London; two in uniform, Graveson to be in civvy clothes.

  ‘He’s fishing.’

  ‘Go interrupt him! And get him to wipe the mud off his feet.’

  Graveson turned up at the house ten minutes later.

  I looked him over. ‘Left your fishing tackle behind?’

  ‘One of the lads grabbed it.’

  ‘Get some decent clothes on, top brass will be around.’

  He rushed out.

  When he was ready, the CT police in their car and dressed in black fatigues, we set off in Graveson’s car, but it was MOD property – which meant every mile had to be recorded.

  As we hit the main roads he asked, ‘Panic on, Boss?’

  ‘No, just a visit of some Americans.’

  ‘Should I be expecting trouble?’

  ‘Always. But there are no specific threats at the moment, other than the usual, and this is unplanned, so … should be OK.’

  We made good time to London, then slowed right down, Saturday traffic, crawling to the hotel. Booked in, I called the Duty Officer to let him know where I was, and that I was available to meet the CIA visitors.

  David called back an hour later, as I had some food with Graveson in the bar, my CT police now sat in a van with their colleagues, tinted windows to avoid the public panicking.

  A smash outside, and I looked, a black BMW involved in an accident, tall black men getting out. One had a pistol stuffed down his belt, and now egged on the driver behind.

  The CT police appeared from behind a parked van, the armed black soon looking down the barrel of a Valmet, four rifles aimed at them as the CT police shouted, bystanders fleeing.

 

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