Wilco- Lone Wolf 17

by Geoff Wolak

  ‘He’s white,’ Rizzo noted. ‘Mercenary?’

  ‘Of a kind, yeah. More your criminal than mercenary.’

  Nicholson and Tomo walked past and on, due north, as I grabbed a sat phone and called it in to Langley and London with the man’s name.

  Langley called ten minutes later. ‘Major Wilco?’

  ‘Yes, and that’s a good way to start a phone conversation with someone undercover.’

  ‘Right, sorry. Well the guy you asked us about, he was special forces, agency for a while in Central America, reported dead a few years back, Guatemala.’

  ‘Well he’s definitely dead now, and was in the employment of the Lobos cartel.’

  ‘Gunna be some loud words in the morning.’

  ‘Track back recent phone use and send a report to the Deputy Chief. And I don’t want anyone calling me unless he authorises them. Got that?’

  ‘Yes, I’ll make sure the computer is updated. Sorry.’

  Off the phone, I told the gang, ‘White guy here and his friend were American special forces, CIA for a while in Central America, decided to chance it with a drug cartel.’

  ‘Best paid man in the cemetery,’ Rizzo noted, echoing Rocko’s phrase.

  Nicholson and Tomo walked back into the headlight beams. Nicholson reported, ‘Third man bled out. Looks white, but could be mixed.’ He handed me a US driver’s license.

  ‘Back to where you were, night ain’t over yet.’

  Mounted up, we turned around and headed north, radio contact made as we approached the compound, the jeeps driven in, Rada stood waiting.

  Jumping down, I told him, ‘We’ll keep theses, but maybe change the plates.’

  ‘Plates? They would be registered to a man dead ten years already!’

  ‘Not the police checkpoint I’m worried about, it’s the Lobos cartel wanting them back.’

  ‘I can change the plates, yes.’

  ‘Worth much?’ Rizzo asked him.

  ‘Here? No. Each year they steal ten thousand like this from America. They can be had for a thousand dollars or less. Use once for a murder - and burn it.’

  ‘Bugger,’ Rizzo let out, soon heading for a warm drink.

  In the morning, late morning at 11am, the Deputy Chief called. ‘Can you talk?’

  ‘Go ahead.’

  ‘We were not that surprised by the dead Americans your end, many go that route, but those fuckers had been calling Los Angeles regular. Fortunately the overnight staff ran the numbers and got a fix on a man in south L.A., FBI just picked him up, weapons found, drugs. So the agency will get the credit.’

  ‘You get a pat on a back from the White House at least.’

  ‘A big pat on the back, looks like the guy in L.A. is a big fish. He’s Hispanic, Mexican, but his wife is American and works in a bank, so we’re digging.’

  ‘How’d she pass the fucking background checks?’

  ‘Good question, very good question. Money Laundering comes to mind, Lobos cartel money. Might be a lucky break.’

  ‘I think they may be mad at me, even more mad. They sent four men to sneak up but we killed them, and last night they sent twenty-thirty men, plus the American mercenaries, all killed. And I stole their jeeps.’

  ‘You stole their jeeps? What a bastard!’

  I laughed. ‘Apparently they’re not worth much around here.’

  ‘No, place is awash with stolen jeeps. They alter them, new plates, and drive them to L.A. to sell, fake papers. Makes good money for gangs on the west coast.’

  ‘Look for some signals intel for me, as in … a large force of Lobos men driving this way, packed lunch in the car, thermos with coffee in.’

  ‘I have a team on it already, NSA are listening in.’

  ‘How did you explain it away?’

  ‘Threat to the border, gun running. No one will question it.’

  Midday, and twenty-two men turned up in a truck with a jeep escort. As they jumped down, all in civvy clothes, I could see that they were young and fit, high and tight haircuts. Each came complete with a large green canvas bag and an M16.

  ‘Rocko, Rizzo!’

  They ambled over.

  ‘These fine young men have family in the town, and are loyal to Carlos, so you’ll train them – and fast. Start with the Valmet, create a firing range east of us, but I don’t want anyone spying on us, so use a depression or a valley bottom.’

  I waved over Rada. ‘Do any speak English?’

  ‘Two studied English in school, and went for courses in America, with the American Army – radio courses.’ He called them forwards as they others took in the compound and glanced around.

  I asked the first young lad his name.

  ‘I am Edmundo, sir, this is Edwardo.’

  ‘That keeps it simple. You will translate for my instructors here, and for me. Tell the men to form two lines.’

  The order was shouted out as I handed Rizzo my rifle, easing off my shirt. I stepped forwards as they stared. ‘My name is Petrov, the Russian soldier from Panama.’

  It was translated, a few of the young men looking horrified.

  ‘Who has heard of me?’

  They all raised hands.

  ‘As you can see, I have been shot once or twice, and have killed a few men.’

  One of the lads managed a weak smile.

  ‘Here you will be trained to fight like special forces soldiers, and then work for Carlos, protecting him. But you will fight with honour. Two nights ago we found a pregnant lady on the mountain, about to give birth - or to die. I took her to Carlos, and we fetched a doctor. That … was the right thing to do, the honourable thing to do.

  ‘We do not kill for fun. We do not kill woman or children, we follow the orders down from above, and we do the work as best we can, heads held high.’

  I faced Edwardo. ‘Will they sleep here?’

  ‘Some, and some live close by. One lives at the bottom of the hill.’

  ‘There is a hut for twelve of them. Make sure enough food is brought up, maybe a cook for them.’

  ‘There is a cook that comes, my uncle,’ he informed me. ‘I will talk to him today.’

  ‘Good.’ I put my shirt back on. ‘Change into uniforms and boots, use the last hut.’

  Edwardo led them off as I faced Rocko and Rizzo. ‘They’re nervous and keen, no need to beast them, nor worry about fitness too much. I want weapons and sniping, team movements, first aid, a steep learning curve.

  ‘And don’t forget, they’re all fucking in-bred around here, so if you damage one his uncle will bitch at Carlos and come at you with a meat clever.’

  An hour later I observed the young men knelt over ponchos, now in their greens, lessons on the Valmet underway as Rizzo and Rocko shouted at them. But from what I could see they had it down quickly, a few smiling as they worked to assemble the Valmets.

  More barbed wire turned up, plus the requested sandbags, and I had my lads filling the bags and carrying them out to the hides, till they suggested they carry them empty and fill them out there.

  Rada’s men drove the barbed wire north in our stolen jeeps, and we extended the existing wire section, but did so placing the wire in ditches and gullies – to trip the unwary at night. Now, to get close, the Lobos would need to follow certain routes, routes that would put them right in the sights of our three hidden positions.

  Spotting someone observing us a long way off, I checked with Radar that it was not a local farmer or bird spotter, Nicholson taking the shot after a few wagers were laid off, a 1,000yard shot, the man killed. To settle the bet, my snipers had to walk out and check the body. Still, it was good exercise for them.

  Hearing cracks, I panicked, soon staring down the slope and not seeing my snipers but hearing gunfire. I turned on my radio. ‘Nicholson, report.’

  There was no response, so I called him.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘It’s me, you alive?’

  ‘Yeah, three dickers due east, about five hundred yards, we got them.�
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  I rallied Sasha and he grabbed five men, soon heading out on patrol. My snipers made it all the way to the man they had shot, phone and ID taken, rifle taken, tattoos looked at; but the man had no tattoos.

  Back with me, they handed over the phone and the ID, the ID probably a fake. I called Langley and detailed the ID and the phone.

  The Deputy Chief called back ten minutes later. ‘Comrade Petrov.’ I sighed, and rolled my eyes. ‘That phone tracks back to L.A. again, some calls in Mexico, and the wife of that guy has just been arrested, bank statements found at home. Looks like a hundred million dollars of Lobos money invested through the bank, White House updated, CNN running it.’

  ‘I think the Lobos will be pissed at me.’

  ‘For sure. But keep getting the intel, I’m accruing favours.’

  ‘And there was me thinking I work for London.’

  Thinking about London, I checked my watch and called David Finch. He was still in the office. ‘Right, Boss.’

  ‘Where are you?’

  ‘Sunny Mexico, on the border with the States, and I just handed the CIA and the FBI a nice little bust in Los Angeles.’

  ‘And there was me thinking you worked for us.’

  I smiled widely. ‘I’m on loan, and you’re accruing favours, just as the Deputy Chief is accruing favours with his bosses.’

  ‘How is it there?’

  ‘A cesspool of death and violence, as expected. The locals rob the migrants and leave them for dead; we rescued a pregnant lady and delivered the baby at the home of Carlos The Jackal, but that should be Carlos The Kitten.’

  ‘He’s not as advertised then?’

  ‘Hell no.’

  ‘And you’re doing … what exactly?’

  ‘Thinning out the bad boys, helping Carlos, who will help Tomsk, and I’m about to start a war with the Lobos cartel.’

  ‘I’ll get a briefing on the various cartels tomorrow, and look at a map. And that Deep State chap?’

  ‘Rescued, alive and well and grateful - fingers attached.’

  ‘Well that’s a benefit, I suppose. And the Israeli?’

  ‘In New York, no idea what she’s up to.’

  ‘14 Intel asked questions about their lady that you borrowed.’

  ‘She’s working in a hotel run by Tomsk, undercover, unearthing pickpockets and jewel thieves.’

  ‘And how, exactly, does that fit the stated remit of 14 Intel – that the British taxpayers pay for?’

  ‘Look, 14 Intel wanted experience. She’s overseas, seeing some action, undercover, getting new and valuable experience – spy work.’

  ‘Well, for her chosen trade, I suppose it almost fits.’

  ‘Do you wish to add to your personnel a lady that has close personal contacts with Tomsk, and can operate around Central America undetected?’

  ‘Well … yes, since we don’t have any. Not a one. Nada.’

  ‘There you go then, a new asset in the making.’

  ‘The European police are noting a great many men disappearing. The one thing they have in common is that they’re all bad men, and have ties to the ill-fated bank and its ill-fated subsidiaries.’

  ‘I guess someone is still cleaning house. What’s happening with the bank?’

  ‘The building was entered after it was propped up, bodies removed and back to families – charred bodies, DNA used to identify them. The al-Qaeda chaps were all burnt to a crisp as well, almost as if it was planned that way.’

  ‘The good lord does indeed move in mysterious ways.’

  ‘He does. London is quiet now, apart from the numerous arrests and the manic on-going press attention that they get. A dozen high profile figures are in the dock, many offering deals, but so many have offered deals we don’t need the deals any longer. We think around twenty of the foot soldiers are on the run, and abroad, unlikely to return any time soon.

  ‘Oh, your chap Max the reporter has been elevated to celebrity status after that film, being seen at the good parties and milking it.’

  ‘Have a word with him, make sure he doesn’t blab.’

  ‘We have a keen desire to monitor him, yes.’

  ‘And Guinea?’I asked.

  ‘The Wolves and some Echo men had a good look at a place, then the new RAF detachment hit it, and SAS plus Wolves are due to assault the place … tonight I think. Dawn perhaps. Captain Moran is down there, Lt Col Sanderson running the show.’

  ‘Good to know they can operate without me.’

  ‘It is, yes, since we don’t know quite who you work for.’

  ‘Ouch. If you say I return, I return. Do I stay, or return, Boss?’

  ‘You’ll have to stay, because we need the CIA on board and Tomsk handing us tip-offs.’

  ‘So there you go, I work for you after all.’

  ‘And do you tell me everything you do, like how you got from Jamaica to Mexico unseen?’

  ‘Hell no, you’d lose a great deal of sleep.’

  ‘Plausible deniability is indeed as good as a sleeping tablet then.’

  ‘It is.’

  That evening I sent out small patrols to all points of the compass, eight gunmen killed during the night, four pairs of two, so the Lobos liked to send men in pairs – probably for the men to keep an eye on each other. We recovered a number of sat phones, but none had calls stateside according to Langley.

  In the morning I sat on the wall with Sasha, the wind having dropped and the sun now out. Due north the ground was flat for 200yards before it sloped away, and I could not see our hidden position nor the barbed wire further out. I could see the low hills towards the border, those hills gentle in nature and easy for a tired migrant to plod cross at the end of a long journey north.

  West of me the ground was again flat for 200yards, then a steady rise to a high point some 800yards away, but that high point was little more than 30ft above the ground here.

  East of me ran 100yards of flat ground, then small ridges, finally a steep ride with a flat top, and I could just about see over it, but could not see where the stolen jeeps had been, nor where we engaged the men who had arrived in those jeeps.

  South of me the dirt track road snaked down the gentle slope, the left side marked with a nasty gully. A man could cross that gully in places, but a vehicle never would. The opposite side of the road offered a few rocky outcrops, but not much in the way of good hiding spaces for a sneaky sniper.

  Due south I could see houses and a main road a mile away, high hills beyond the valley that housed the road, the road running east-west.

  My phone trilled as I sat there taking in the topography. ‘It’s Miller, can you talk?’

  ‘Go ahead, I’m just sat atop a wall surveying the battlefield.’

  ‘We got an intercept, an indiscrete chat, a government police helicopter on its way to you for a sneak peek.’

  ‘Got to go, call me later.’

  I transmitted, ‘All teams, get down and hide, we have a police helicopter coming in. Get ponchos over you, get in a gully, get bushes on you and hide. Don’t shoot at the helicopter!’

  I rushed down with Sasha and had Rocko and Rizzo hide the young soldiers in a hut. ‘Rada! Drive out most of the jeeps, south, wait a few hours, police helicopter heading here. Have chairs brought out, men sat around smoking, no weapons! Move it!’

  Orders were barked, jeeps mounted and speeding off south, chairs brought out, men sitting down as I led Sasha to a shed and we hid inside it, weapons ready – just in case.

  Fifteen minutes later the drone could be heard, the helo above 500ft, and soon seen through a crack in the door as it circled. It had a good look, three circuits made, Rada waving up at it before it departed.

  Outside, I scanned the sky and listened as I walked to Rada. ‘OK, bring your jeeps back, business as usual.’

  ‘How did you know about it?’

  ‘I have friends in low places.’

  Rizzo and Rocko led out the young soldiers, taking them out for some team manoeuvres and some rif
le work in a deep valley northwest, and hopefully unseen by the dickers as I again mounted the wall with Sasha.

  Swan clambered up, his stag, and he knelt scanning the horizon for faces observing us.

  Carlos called. ‘You had a police helicopter fly over..?’

  ‘Yes, but it saw nothing to report, so they will be confused.’

  ‘You got word … from where?’

  ‘NSA listening posts update the CIA, they update me.’

  ‘Nice arrangement you have with them…’

  ‘The sat phones I got off the men approaching us, I gave the numbers to the CIA, who traced them back to Los Angeles, where the FBI arrested a senior Lobos man involved in money laundering. They grabbed a hundred million dollars from Lobos, the CIA getting the credit. They don’t help me for nothing.’

  ‘Indeed not, there is always a price. And what, in particular, do you think they desire?’

  ‘More arrests of Lobos stateside, some good newspaper headlines. And if you benefit, then Tomsk will benefit, and the CIA get a small percentage of the trade for their … coffee and sugar.’

  ‘Coffee and sugar are expensive, yes.’

  ‘Don’t worry, I have played this game a long time, and I am good at it. We sit down and talk, we don’t shoot.’

  ‘Don’t start that again.’

  ‘How is the baby?’

  ‘I fed him today, the lady – still no breast milk. But a lady comes from the town, a new baby, and she breast feeds. Large lady.’

  ‘Big boobs?’

  ‘I had not noticed.’

  Smiling, I put the phone away.

  At 4pm, and after a meal cooked by Rada’s chef – uncle to one of the soldiers, trucks arrived, more jeeps, crates unloaded, those crates having taken the same route that the drugs took.

  With many hands helping we broke out box-fed and ammo, grenade launchers – with flares, trip flares by the hundred, and hand-fired flares. I had the pistol flares taken to those men hidden, as well as grenade launchers, and now we could do some damage to people sneaking up on us.

  Tonight, Rizzo would take Edwardo and six men on patrol, Rocko would go the opposite way with Edmundo and six men, tactics to be taught, the professionals to be observed. But pulses would be racing for the young soldiers, since they knew of the men we had killed in the area - and they greatly feared these hills. Some valuable experience was about to be gained.