by Geoff Wolak
‘I could make good money, yes.’
‘Do so, but cover yourself, chat to Tomsk now just in case he hears about it.’
Bob came back on. ‘Do some research on our friend,’ I told him.
‘Leon already has, a detailed financial map.’
‘Put No.7 on a plane for South Africa, with back-up.’
‘I'll call her now, she's been practising her pickpocketing and house breaking, and she has a nice penthouse apartment, sea view.’
‘Sounds like she's found her niche,’ I quipped.
When Swifty and his Wolves were ready I told them, ‘You go north down the track to the river, ‘B’ Squadron regulars there so don't shoot at each other, cross over, go up the track without leaving wet prints behind, on a mile and spread out. Send a team all the way to the road, four men. Hide and observe and report, don't engage.’
Swifty led them off.
Inside, Robby had a leg of chicken.
‘That nice?’ I sarcastically asked.
‘Great, but it'll make me thirsty later.’
Morten was sat with a cold drink, looking tired.
‘Your girl, will she recover?’ I asked.
‘That wound will probably mean a discharge, the muscle will never recover. She could lead a productive life, but not lift a rifle.’
‘Pity.’
‘She'll be in rehab for ages. But you can't re-grow muscle.’
‘That girl killed in Angola...’
‘I knew her, yes. We haven't lost too many, not considering the risks.’ He pinched between his eyes.
‘Get an hour in here, a good bed.’
‘Hits you when the adrenalin stops,’ he noted.
‘Have all your people lay down fully clothed, nothing happening for two hours. We'll need you awake later.’
He nodded.
A loud Puma set down, a major stepping in as I grabbed some food.
‘I'm Major Benton, liaison to the Colonel, HQ Freetown.’ We shook.
‘Get comfy, you have two hours before the shooting starts.’
‘What are we expecting here?’
‘Up to four hundred rebels landed north, seen walking this way. Not sure what's on their minds, but I'm sure they're not tourists.’
‘No, quite. Well we've bolstered the border, patrols out.’
I was called, trucks arriving, almost sixty civvy workers from the oil area. I met them outside. ‘Who's left up at the oil area?’
‘No one.’
‘What about safety cover, fires?’
‘Oil's not pumping yet. There's some kit that could be stolen, cabins, computers. You Wilco?’
‘I am.’
‘I read the book,’ he told me. I sighed. He pulled out from a backpack, handed over with a pen, so I signed.
‘You owe me a beer,’ I told him.
‘Bar inside.’
‘We can't drink, trouble is coming. Find a room inside, six or eight of you to a room, get comfy, this building is solid, the huts won't stop a bullet.’
‘What's the panic anyhow?’ a man asked.
‘Four hundred heavily armed rebels walking this way.’
‘Got a rifle for me, I'll shoot some of the fuckers.’
‘Might come to that around dawn. Get some rest.’
They filed inside.
I called for the local captain. ‘Make sure there're no civvies in the huts, then write up a list of all the names of the civvies here.’
I called out all of those Echo members who had been inside. ‘Some of these oil workers might have taken money, so stay out of that building. If you have to be inside, search for bombs, always in groups, be careful.’
‘I watch them,’ Salome offered. ‘I talk to them, I'm good with spies.’
‘Do so, but be careful. Warn Mister Morten; one of those fuckers could have a bomb in his backpack. And Salome, look for South Africans.’
She headed back in.
‘I'll take the roof,’ Moran suggested, Mitch agreeing.
Tinker called. ‘You up late?’ I asked.
‘It's 11pm, and you're in the same time zone,’ he testily pointed out.
‘Been a long day for me. What you got?’
‘The phone from the man in the plane, it tracks back to the Congo as expected, and Johannesburg.’
‘There's a man in South Africa, Van de Berg, and he funded the aircraft. Not sure what his role is, but he's seeking underworld loans.’
‘A phone linked by proximity is pinging north of you.’
‘Rebels landing in Guinea, yes, walking south.’
‘This one is two miles northwest.’
‘That's naughty. Is it moving?’
‘Been static for a few hours.’
‘I got to go.’ I found Sasha and rallied his team ready to go. ‘You go north to the river, ‘B’ Squadron there - don't shoot at each other, cross over, then go west a mile, then north west, static position there, could be mortars. Be very careful, they have some professional boys. Report to me before you shoot. Go.’
They walked off chatting in Russian.
Rizzo called an hour later. ‘We're at the mine place, all lit up it is, and we're south at the edge, no fucker here though.’
‘They all drove down here. Find a good spot, some high ground, get ready, because there are three or four hundred rebels walking towards you. Hit and run tactics here. And there's a static rebel team behind you, two miles from us, so watch your rear. Any contact, you call me.’
‘We'll keep this high ground, we can see most everything.’
‘Those rebels should be with you in a hour, get a brew on now.’
Loud Chinooks announced their approach and I stepped to the runway with Moran. Tail ramp down, and I saw American Wolf NCOs lead their men out and towards me, around the burnt wreckage, all studying it as they passed.
The sergeant smiled and saluted. ‘Made a mess, sir.’
‘It will need a sweep up, yes. Get on my radio frequency, then have an NCO with eight men down to the river.’ I pointed. ‘Look for men crossing over.’
The Chinooks thundered away, a team sent through the mine.
‘Next NCO, eight men, back to the end of this runway, to the gate, hide along the approach road, trouble is coming.’ The team moved off, heavy kit dumped at the side of the runway.
‘Put the rest of them in the brown wooden huts for now, then back to me.’
When he returned I detailed what was where, the patrols out, the rebels moving in.
‘And the plan here?’
‘We need to know what's on their mind first, then we react. Get inside and get fresh water, and there's some food.’
‘We got plenty of fresh water at the airport,’ he informed me.
When the Chinooks returned we had a large force of Wolves, but I would not be sending them out at night in small groups, not yet.
The Captain and his NCOs came to me and I again detailed what was where.
‘There are some trenches near the huts,’ the captain noted.
‘Put some men in it, but careful who you shoot, there are black Liberian soldiers here, east end.’
‘We expecting incoming?’
‘Always,’ I told him, his team smiling.
I called London and asked them to task the Navy with a Lynx attack in one hour or so, or dawn.
Salome stepped out to me. ‘There are two South Africans, one is suspicious.’
‘Keep an eye on him, and if he has a bag … search at gunpoint, I don't care if he complains. Have Mitch back you up.’
I followed her back inside with Mitch, and I got myself a coffee as men asked me questions of Panama, and the book. A shout, a gun shot, and I drew my pistol. ‘All of you, back-up, stay cool.’
Salome stepped out of a room, sat phone in one hand, bomb in the other. She waited, staring at me.
‘I say that makes him guilty, yes. Chuck the bomb and then shoot it.’
Mitch dragged the man out and drew him down, a kneecap hav
ing been shot out, Morten attending it.
‘Tie him up,’ I told Morten. I faced the men in the cafe bar. ‘He was going to set of that bomb in here. You will now all be searched, and anyone who hesitates – gets shot. Who knows this man?’
‘I do, we got him from an agency.’
‘Has he been friendly with anyone in particular?’
He pointed at a man, that man now looking worried.
Mitch pointed a pistol at the man's head. ‘One small movement, I kill you.’
The man slowly raised his hands.
I pointed at a man near him. ‘Search him.’
The search revealed a sat phone, no bomb, the blast outside seeing men ducking. I had our wounded man taken outside, Doc Willy dragging him, and I followed.
Stood over the man, I began, ‘You can talk to me, or we hand you to the President in Monrovia. He'll cut your eyes out, castrate you, and then … then he'll get nasty. And as for Van de Berg, he'll be dead soon, so don't worry about him coming after you. You talk to me you get let go in the next town.’
He stared up defiantly for a moment, then lowered his head. ‘Soldiers landed north and are moving this way, three hundred.’
‘We know. And we have four hundred special forces soldiers here.’
He seemed deflated.
‘Is their purpose to take hostages here?’
‘No, to destroy the oil infrastructure.’
‘And there was me thinking that they wanted to capture it.’
‘They did, then changed the plan. Someone paid them to destroy it, this morning.’
‘And your knowledge of Mgolo, aka Davidson?’
‘Davidson?’
‘He's a CIA stooge, or was till they cut him loose, he was raised in the States.’
He puzzled that. ‘Mgolo? He kills people in public to maintain fear.’
‘A good actor. So where is he?’
‘In the Congo.’
‘Chanjenge.’
‘Yes.’
‘So who paid them this morning?’
‘I don't know, but they got a bank transfer in Johannesburg.’
The local captain had closed in to listen in. I faced him. ‘Drop this man in the local town, that's an order, don't argue. Get a jeep.’
With a puzzled frown he organised a jeep and driver.
I stared down at our wounded prisoner. ‘Are there explosives at the oil wells?’
‘They're bringing some.’
With the man being helped into a jeep, Salome protesting at him still being alive, I had the American Wolves form up, a call made for the Chinooks. Wolves in the mine were called up, and those from the front gate.
The drone reached us twenty minutes later, American Wolf teams sent aboard with NCOs, the captain to go along.
I told him, ‘You land at the oil derricks, go south, my men are there, spread out in teams of no less than four, get ready for a shoot-out. Take advice from my man Rizzo.’
‘Rizzo?’ the captain complained with a smile.
‘I know, but he's good at the job. Have your men down and hidden, ready to shoot.’
The Chinooks powered off north into the black night sky. At least it wasn't raining.
My phone trilled. ‘It's Sasha, and we see some men, four mortar tubes.’
‘How many men?’
‘Eight so far.’
‘Keep observing, but – you know – don't let them fire at us. When you're sure where all the men are, kill them, aim the tubes north west.’
‘OK.’
‘Mister Haines!’
‘Here!’ came from the roof.
‘They have mortars set-up northwest, but Sasha is there ready to shoot them. Could be other mortar teams out there, so be ready to duck.’
Moran asked, ‘Why'd you let that guy go?’
‘How far do you think he'll get?’ I called Mike Papa, a man to pick up. I told Moran, ‘Walk around, look for any civvies acting odd, peer through the windows.’
He headed off. Back inside, I got a coffee, the mood anything other than settled.
‘We in danger here?’ a man asked.
‘Some, yes. But if this had happened without us being here … they would have killed you all and blown up the oil derricks and the new pipeline.’
‘Who is they?’
‘That's classified.’ I faced them. ‘How many read the book, The Ghost?’
‘Most raised hands.’
‘When they write a book about this episode, you'll be in it.’ They exchanged looks, now less afraid. ‘You can tell your kids and friends that you were here.’
A quiet debate broke out.
An old fat man loudly stated, ‘You shot that man in the leg, and that's illegal.’
‘He attacked my lady officer as she held a gun on him, and it went off accidentally, after which we gave him first aid.’
‘Bollocks.’
‘Were you in the room?’ He had no answer. ‘Any more shit from you and I drop you in the town. You can fend for yourself.’
‘What did you do with him?’
‘Driven to the town, his wish, after he supplied me with information.’
Another man said, ‘He was going to kill us all, and you let him go. That's illegal.’
‘My government will judge me, not you lot. With a chance to save lives, your lives, I cut a deal with him and stuck to it.’
The local captain finally stepped back in. I asked, ‘Our prisoner OK?’
‘At the local hotel, sir, doctor sent for. Seemed odd though, letting him go.’
‘I keep my word, and his evidence will save lives. But write up a report anyhow.’
‘Right, sir.’
With the Chinooks back they ferried the second half of the American Wolves north west.
A Puma set down half an hour later, Max and Trevor clambering down with two British Press officers. When Max came in I told him to get the story here from the civilians, and to get their names right. And to photograph the mess in the morning.
‘I have that on my camera,’ a man offered, and Max offered him a few quid, making me smile.
‘You take these things lightly,’ an older man complained.
‘It's my job, I do it every day. You get used to it.’
Salome huffed. ‘Why do we even protect these men, send them off.’
‘They might be ambushed on the road,’ I told her. ‘But in the morning we can send them, maybe by Chinook. They can sit in Freetown till their bosses offer more money, then come back.’ I pointed at a man. ‘How much do you make a month here?’
He glanced at the others. ‘Four grand a month, tax free.’
‘Jesus, that's a hell of a lot more than I make. I don't even get royalties from the book or the film. And you're still complaining.’
Outside, my phone trilled, the concrete roof suppressing the signal inside.
‘It's Rizzo, and we got company, fucking loads of them.’
‘Are the Wolves down?’
‘Yeah, on our left side, spread along, fucking millions of them.’
‘What the rebels doing?’
‘They just figured out that the place is empty.’
‘Watch for them placing explosives, then open up. Try and catch as many in the open as you can.’
‘They're all walking around with thumbs up arses.’
‘That's disappointing, thought they had some good boys. Check behind you before you open up, have Wolves turn around.’
He called back five minutes later. ‘We got movement behind us.’
‘Turn around a third of the Wolves, you all turn around and get down, then have the Wolves open up – you stay quiet till you see them.’
‘OK.’
My phone trilled straight away. ‘It's Sasha, and we killed these men, but got some wounds.’
‘How bad are the wounds?’
‘Got a scrape and a through-and-through, some splinters.’
‘If you can destroy the mortars, or carry them to the river, do so, but
watch for our people across the river. Then come back in.’
‘OK, we limp slowly.’
I looked up a number and called Robby. ‘You OK down there?’
‘We heard distant firing.’
‘That's Sasha. He may come your way and dump mortar tubes in the river, warn your people, then assist – he has wounded.’
‘OK, but there's some big nasty things splashing in this river.’
‘Shoot them, pussy.’
Rizzo called back ten minutes later, as I stood with Moran outside. ‘We hit the men behind us, but they're switched on. We killed maybe ten, rest and down and hidden, shooting match now.’
‘How many rebels were caught in the open in the oil area?’
‘Like sixty, now they're in the tree line, shooting match with the Wolves, they can't see us.’
I called the Pentagon, finding Colonel Mathews still at his desk, but it was not that late in Washington. ‘Sir, your Wolves are in thick action, there will be some wounded by dawn, no reports yet. But this a good test for them, nasty jungle and nasty rebel soldiers.’
‘How many are in action?’
‘All of them, sir, in a group, your NCOs and officers with them.’
‘That's a big force. What they up against?’
‘Three hundred rebels, but eighty are already dead.’
‘They should be able to hold their own easily, those are good odds.’
‘Yes, sir. But where are the veteran Wolves?’
‘Sent to ships, requested by Admiral Jacobs.’
‘Have they seen any action?’
‘They've tackled a few recon missions, no wounded, no screw ups. They're reported as professional and competent.’
‘They saw enough action.’
‘I'll be in all night, keep me posted.’
‘Call that Wolf captain, sir, get it direct.’
‘Will do.’
I called Freetown, and gave the Colonel there a lengthy sitrep, finally calling David Finch. ‘You at home?’
‘In a hotel. How's it going?’
‘We caught a South African with a bomb, and he admitted that the plan had changed, from taking the country to wrecking the oil infrastructure. Van de Berg in South Africa got money this morning, and a request to destroy the oil.’
‘And the man sending the money..?’
‘That's the question.’
‘Who the heck would benefit from wrecking it?’ David posed.