by Geoff Wolak
‘I have a satellite photo of it, not recent. Which buildings are you talking about?’
‘On your photo, orientate it north -’
‘Got that.’
‘On the top, the north, you’ll see just a fence, marsh land outside it then a river. Right hand corner, fourth building down, and fifth, square buildings, two storey, flat roofs.’
‘OK, got them. Just those two buildings?’
‘Yes, sir, we observed the hostages moved inside, clear view.’
‘Numbers of hostiles?’
‘Fifty, give or take a few, we counted them.’
‘Weapons?’
‘AK47, nothing else seen, no armoured personnel carriers.’
‘Chances of landing helos in there?’
‘Most of the parade ground is clear, burnt out jeeps on the west side offer cover for your men, buildings to the west are destroyed.’
‘Men in that town to the south?’
‘Plenty of idiots with guns, sir, but they’d not come out to play, they know to stay away from the camp or get shot at.’
‘Local reinforcements?’
‘Nothing close by, sir, and they’re all at each other’s throats, so I don’t think anyone will be called. Monrovia is two or three hours away, and there are APCs down there.’
‘CIA had reports of movement.’
‘Nothing seen here, sir, no APCs,’ I lied.
‘Our first team will land in Freetown soon. What assets do you have there?’
‘We have two Chinook, sir, and trucks. They are available to you. And we estimated one hundred ten passengers.’
‘Manifest says ... one hundred sixteen including crew.’
‘Crew are alive and well, about twenty white faces seen.’
‘The plane was blown up?’
‘No, sir, it slipped off the end of the dirt strip, engines damaged, slowly burnt.’
‘You’re in a position to set a diversion?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘How many men?’
‘Fifty men, sir, fifty of the best hostage rescue men the world has to offer, including one of your Deltas embedded with us.’
‘We’re well aware of those facts, Captain, and damn glad you’re there. What has London asked you to do?’
‘They asked us to sit and wait, and to observe, which is what we’ve been doing.’
‘London has passed this to us, so we’d like you to set a diversion as our men move in, then help set a perimeter.’
‘Be glad to help, sir. I’ll have the Chinooks bring your teams to an RV out of earshot of the camp, to be met by your own Delta guy, and we’ll have trucks ready for hostages on the Sierra Leone side at dawn, could be with us in half an hour. I’ll also have men on the roads nearby, just in case.’
‘Sounds very thorough, Captain.’
‘This is the same base we hit last year, sir, so we have some knowledge of the area.’
‘We’ll be back to you soon. Mathews out.’
Phone down, I turned to Mahoney. ‘You and Captain Moran’s team will go meet the Deltas when they get here.’ I pulled out my map and opened it out as Mahoney knelt. ‘We’re here, you go due west two miles, north a little, avoid the rice fields and habitations, to this spot next to the river. Chinooks will set down there in ... two hours I guess.’
‘Best set off now if that’s the timescale.’
‘I won’t send the Deltas from Freetown till you’re close, get Moran to call me.’
Mahoney headed off to find Moran.
Sat phone out, I called Captain Harris. ‘It’s Wilco, get me the Chinook pilots, call me back.’
‘OK, and we have forty Welsh Guards ready, eight trucks, some jeeps.’
‘I need the trucks to have two men in the back plus a medic, plenty of space for a hundred hostages, and I need them on the Sierra Leone side of that bridge just before dawn, so have them rest early.’
‘Will do.’
‘Any problems from that colonel?’
‘He got a call from upon high, and now can’t do enough to help.’
‘Deltas will land soon, but don’t send them till I say, we’ll meet them at the river.’
Ten minutes later the Chinook pilots came on, and I gave them the co-ordinates to land at, as well as the same warning: not to fly before checking with me, and not to fly near this camp.
Swifty had been observing the camp, and had counted just thirty men as I explained what I expected to happen to Major Liban. We sat and made a plan, and discussed the pros and cons, excellent training for the major.
Sitting down, and now starting to lose the light, I called Bob. ‘It’s Wilco, I had the Pentagon on the line.’
‘PM sanctioned the contact.’
‘I denied any APCs in the area, and no mention of ... our friend.’
‘Good. They’d not know anyhow.’
‘I hope you’re squeezing lots of favours out of them,’ I teased.
‘They will owe us, yes, but it helps to keep them sweet.’
‘Did the PM need a stiff drink?’
‘He did, but we’re happy now that it went off well. We don’t mind risks, so long as they work out well for us.’
I laughed loudly. ‘I’ll try not to take any risks tonight.’
Phone down, I clicked on the radio. ‘Nicholson, Tomo, Smitty, down to the half-destroyed barracks, up on the roof, dead slow, dead quiet, eyes on all night. In the morning, when the fireworks start, snipe at the blacks.’
‘Moving out soon, Boss,’ came Tomo’s voice.
‘Rocko, Slider, Slade, Gonzo, form up, to me.’
I heard Tomo and the others move past and down, and five minutes later Rocko led his team in as I stood peering down at the camp. To Rocko, I said, ‘You remember the route we took, north along the river, in the reeds.’
‘Yeah.’
‘Same again, dead slow, take your time, get to the dirt strip and have a look, no risks being seen, then get to a point a hundred yards behind that HQ building, no closer, hide yourselves, eyes on, rotate sleep.
‘Just before dawn you move up, radio Tomo, but I think we’d get a good signal up here. I want you to be between the hostages and the rest of the fuckers down there.’
Rocko moved off, his team following, just dark outlines.
I clicked on the radio. ‘Dicky, Salties, go due south to the road, go east above the road till you can see the camp, the road and the town, dead slow, dead quiet. Rotate stag and sleep, be ready to move down just before dawn, gate guards are yours.’
‘Moving out soon.’
‘Just us,’ Swifty noted.
‘And the French,’ I said as I moved left. ‘Major, send four men south west, please, set an OP at the edge of the open fields, they should see the road, warn us of any approach.’
He gave the order, men getting ready.
‘Get me your four best snipers, ready to move.’
Five minutes later, four dark outlines stood ready. I told the major, ‘They go down and left, to the collapsed barracks, and find some high ground, and hide. Dead quiet, dead slow, be ready for dawn, rotate sleep till then. My men are in the tallest damaged building.’
Major Liban repeated the instructions, his men dispatched.
I clicked on the radio. ‘Tomo, you hear me?’
‘Yeah, Boss, good signal.’
‘There’ll be four French snipers moving in to the left of you, the rubble. Don’t shoot them.’
‘Right, Boss.’
‘And Tomo, it may rain, so no need to be up top all night, eh.’
‘Right, Boss.’
As I sat back under the flysheet, Swifty said, ‘So what’s the plan?’
‘Deltas will have twenty men, maybe double that by dawn, so they move down on the right, wait the moment, move to the burnt out trucks and that burnt out helo, then it’s just a 100yard dash with us lot covering them. I’ll have some French on the north wire, and anyone coming out of those buildings on the left will be hit.
/> ‘Rocko is at the rear, to hit anyone at the rear moving around, and to get eyes on the hostages.’
‘Guards in with the hostages?’
‘From what I saw ... six maybe in each building, man in the roof – till it rains.’
‘Why not send the Deltas all the way around like Rocko?’
‘I considered that, and they could move in slowly, but we have lots of warm bodies anyhow. See what they say, it’s their plan, we’re in support.’
Fifteen minutes later my sat phone trilled. ‘It’s Captain Harris, Americans are here, getting ready to board the Chinooks now.’
‘Call Captain Moran, co-ordinate with him, don’t send them off till Moran is in place.’
‘I’ll call him now.’
I sat back against a tree, plenty of space for just the two of us.
The radio crackled, ‘Dicky for Wilco.’
‘Go ahead.’
‘Just two men on the gate, half asleep, a few armed men in the streets.’
‘Roger that. Stay hidden.’
I again eased back against the tree. After five minutes I said through the dark, ‘You sleepy?’
‘Naw.’
‘Me neither.’
‘Sleep when we get back,’ Swifty suggested. ‘Ain’t been that hard so far.’
I folded my arms and stared ahead, the flysheet black, the outside world a dark grey, the trees black. ‘Your TV on the blink?’
‘Bottom right hand corner is a bit wonky. When the news is on, and they have words at the bottom, you notice it, otherwise it’s OK.’
I nodded, unseen. A minute later, I idly commented, ‘Puppy is growing.’
‘Yeah, and I was thinking of one for myself.’
‘You were?’
‘Had one as a kid.’
‘But you’re abroad a lot.’
‘Well ... yeah, but plenty of people at the base would look after it. Major used to have dogs, but his wife was no fan of them. Pissed him off a bit, no dog. When I first met him he mentioned it.’
An hour later my phone trilled. ‘Wilco.’
‘It’s Moran, got the Deltas with us, tabbing back up now.’
‘OK, all quiet here, no hurry, but what about the second batch?’
‘What? Shit. I’ll send Mahoney back with two Deltas.’
Phone away, Swifty said, ‘Moran forgot the second batch?’
‘Yep, they would have been a bit lost.’
‘You reckon they have jungle greens?’
‘Just plain green probably.’
He nodded. ‘Sasha with his team?’
‘Yeah, chatting away in Russian no doubt.’
Half an hour later my phone trilled. ‘Wilco.’
‘It’s Moran. The Deltas were just informed that the second batch were diverted with a fault on a plane, won’t be here till dawn.’
‘Bring up Mahoney then.’
‘No sat phone, but the Deltas reached their men and he’s catching us up.’
‘OK, no hurry.’ I eased back.
Swifty said, ‘Mahoney don’t have a sat phone on him?’
‘No. But the Deltas had some way to reach their men with him, so they’re coming in, rest won’t be here in time.’
‘Got more than enough men,’ Swifty idly commented.
Twenty minutes later my phone trilled. ‘Wilco.’
‘It’s Rocko, we’re at the plane, all burnt out, stinks of burnt rubber, no fucker around.’
‘Roger that. All quiet here, Deltas on the way.’
‘We’ll get close now and have a look.’
‘No risks, dead quiet.’
‘Yeah, yeah.’
An hour later Moran radioed his arrival, and brought in a long line of black blobs.
‘Where’s Running Bear?’ I called through the dark.
‘Here?’ came from a black blob.
‘You in charge of this lot?’
‘Of this detachment, Major on his way.’
‘Won’t be here in time for dawn, and we move at dawn.’
‘What’s the situation?’
‘Gather your senior men, rest get hidden back along the track. If you don’t have flysheets we do.’
‘We got some,’ Running Bear assured me before he gathered his sergeants and sent his men back.
I led them to an opening, the camp below clear. ‘OK, what we have ... is north on the left, south on the right. North side of the camp has a fence, beyond it reeds and marsh, then a river, easy enough to cross it.
‘Top right corner, moving down, are five buildings still standing. First three are habitats for the bad boys, next two are hostages. Second building from the left, that’s the HQ building, commander in it, in bed in his pyjamas.’
They laughed.
‘Below us, fence is down in places, demolished old barracks. On the far left are four French snipers. This building below, still with a section standing, has three of my snipers. Bottom right corner is the gate house, two sleepy guards, four of mine above them watching the road.
‘Behind the hostage buildings are trees leading to the airstrip and the burnt out 737, and in those trees are four of mine ready to move, eyes on at the moment. And that’s it.’
‘Numbers?’
‘We counted less than fifty. No heavy weapons seen, no APC, no tanks.’
‘We studied what you did here, we know this place,’ a man said. ‘Just never expected to be here.’
‘There’re twenty spare French lads, plus seven more of us here, so plenty of covering fire.’
‘For just fifty men, yes,’ Running Bear agreed.
‘It’s your operation,’ I told him. ‘We’re here to support you. But ... you have two clear choices. One, straight down and across, using the burnt out vehicles for cover as we cover you. Two, around the back via the river and in quietly.’
‘I’d say we try and get the hostages quietly, before we wake anyone,’ Running Bear suggested. ‘If your men hit the gate guards, we go down and around to the right, kill the guards quietly, assess the hostages, and then wake up the rest.’
‘Hostages were all able to walk themselves in, none injured.’
‘That always helps. The hijackers?’
‘Not seen.’
‘Not seen?’
‘If the hijackers were Islamists, the local boys would have killed them - they don’t like Arabs.’ I said nothing about the President, and I was hoping they’d not ask.
Running Bear began, addressing his men, ‘OK, time now is 1am, dawn is 5.30am kinda, so we move down at 4.30am. Go back and get some chow in you. Watch those naked lights.’
Running Bear had not said anything about Tomsk, and as they filed away I wondered if other Deltas even knew that their Captain had been in Panama.
Moran eased under the flysheet with me, joining Swifty.
I told him, ‘I had a call from the Pentagon; this is their show, London has passed it over.’
‘Figured as much. And those Deltas, they have some swanky private jet that takes them around the world.’
‘I heard, yes, fast aircraft.’
‘Swanky or not,’ Swifty put in, ‘I’d not want to chase potential hijacked planes around the world all day all week.’
‘No, me neither,’ Moran admitted.
I told Moran, ‘If you want to get an hour, do so.’
‘I’ll try, walk tired me out a bit.’
‘Mahoney not got a sat phone?’ Swifty idly enquired a minute later.
‘No,’ Moran quietly commented. ‘I should have checked. Tend to assume the lads have them.’
After I few seconds I idly commented, ‘This poncho will need a wash down tomorrow.’
‘Yep,’ Swifty agreed. ‘Muddy Moran made a mess.’
I laughed. ‘That was good, if you thought it out first.’
‘That’s what we should call him,’ Swifty suggested. ‘Muddy Moran, part of the Dirty Dozen.’
‘Better than Moron,’ Moran noted. ‘Which is what they called me in school. I
was short then, grew a lot after sixteen.’
‘You’re still short,’ I told him.
‘Yeah, fuck off, Lanky. I’m average, you’re oversized.’
‘Viking blood,’ I said.
‘Viking?’ Swifty queried.
‘Great grandfather was from Sweden somewhere,’ I told him. ‘A sailor that was taken off ship in Bristol and nearly died from something nasty, married the lady that nursed him, two sons, one that almost fought in the American Civil War.’
‘How did he almost fight?’ Moran asked.
‘Ship sank on the way there.’
Quiet laughter filled the flysheet.
‘But he left a letter to his mum, he was seventeen, saying that he wanted to fight for the North in their civil war, then ran away from home, got on a tramp steamer to the States, and sank.’
Moran put in, ‘My great uncle was killed on the Titanic.’
‘Not a nice way to go,’ Swifty noted.
‘Was decapitated.’
‘You ... what?’ Swifty queried.
‘When they launched the ship a rope decapitated him. He was buried at sea, the head never found, and a telegram was sent back. First casualty of the Titanic.’
‘Does anyone have any good stories?’ Swifty complained.
‘You got any?’ I challenged.
Swifty gave that some thought. ‘My step-uncle, he raped a girl and was sent to prison, came out, apologised to her and they got married and had five kids, one from the rape of course.’
‘How’s that a good story?’Moran challenged.
‘Happy ending,’ Swifty told him.
I said, ‘So long as the kids never ask: Dad, how did you and Mum meet?’
Swifty and Moran chuckled.
At 4.30am movement was heard from all sides, men getting ready. I asked Major Liban to dispatch eight men down to the north fence, slow and quiet, and to cover the HQ building. I called Rocko, finding no change, and made radio contact with Dicky and Tomo in turn, everything quiet enough save the usual tree frogs.
The remaining French would move down with me after the action started, one small team left behind on the hill to watch our rear.
I stood with my team as the Deltas filed past and headed down, soon out of sight.