by Geoff Wolak
‘That investigation could be stalled or blocked by the interested parties Stateside. I won’t be holding my breath for an arrest!’
‘CNN is running it prime time, and somehow they have a recent photo of the Belgian chap.’
‘A photo?’ I puzzled. ‘No idea how they got it, and I think he would have avoided happy snaps of his visit to Euro Disney.’ Call ended, I had to wonder how the hell they got a photo of a secretive mercenary.
At 5pm I was called to the landline, a “Gallaher” calling. ‘Wilco here, you the escapee Gallaher, that one?’
‘Am I being hunted?’
‘They said yes, Mi5 and your old bosses want a word apparently. I asked that they leave it 24hrs, which has lapsed I guess.’
‘My name’s not in the papers, so I have that at least.’
‘Did you get to France?’
‘Yeah, got me wife and nipper here, a place close to some nudist beach.’
‘Go find a payphone somewhere isolated, call me back on this sat phone number, coins in the box.’ I called out the digits then ended the call. Next call was Bob. ‘Listen, one of the British police officers that was working for the bank, he’s now on our side, on the run and in your neck of the woods, near some nudist beach, name of Gallaher.
‘I need a number for him to call that French Intel won’t trace to you, and don’t meet him or trust him but leave cash for him, dead letter drop somewhere public.’
‘Take down the following number,’ Bob told me.
I wrote it down.
‘That number goes through a dead-stop in Switzerland, bounced to South Africa before it comes back here, then through Leon’s clever exchange – and no one can break that secure exchange.’
‘Expect a call soon.’
I waited, a tea made as I chatted to Captain Harris and a very pretty lady Captain. I was tempted to make her an indecent proposition, some range work alone with me.
When Gallaher called my sat phone I stepped into the corridor. I gave him Bob’s safe contact number, and I told him to ask for Bob – but I suggested that Bob was not his real name. ‘That payment pipeline you mentioned, forget it, it’s CIA and they’d shoot us both.’
‘Oh, OK then, but I have something else, mate who is still working with them and he wants out if he can get some cash.’
‘If he has valuable info I’ll pay, but I’m never going to want you or him on the stand giving evidence.’
‘Best way all round.’
‘Does he know anything juicy?’
‘Something’s going to happen in Guinea, a trap for you and your men, which is nothing I’d support – I was a Para.’
‘OK, good, anything else?’
‘Some guy is in Freetown, Sierra Leone, some business with a name like a fish, and he’ll organise things, you know, the trap for your men.’
‘Name like a fish, eh.’
‘Man in Guinea is some Irish twat called O’Reilly, maybe ex-IRA.’ I pretended not to know the name, O’Reilly. ‘He works for a guy called Kruger, who’s the big boss of something in Africa.’
I made a note of the name. ‘Call the local man, Bob – not his real name, and I’ll have half a million dropped for you and your mate – split it, more money when I check some facts – and that you’re not some double agent.’
‘Take your time, I’m being straight here.’
‘Do you know how to avoid being seen?’
‘Yeah, cash only, no mobile, no bank cards used.’
‘Can you list some names of people close to Lord Michaels..?’
‘Fat wanker of a former officer, Burgess. He was Guards for like five years only, spent six weeks in Sierra Leone twenty years back, with the embassy, but talks like he patrolled the jungle and shot up the blacks. He likes small boys.’
‘Interesting. Who else?’
‘Maddocks, tall thin ex-Army officer, not sure which regiment he was, pompous twat. He inherited a shit load of money and owns shares in big mining companies like Rio Tinto he once said. He has a butler and a maid, swanky house in Belgravia, the wanker.’
‘OK, good. Watch your back, they will be looking. Wilco out.’
Call cut, I told Bob about the money before I stepped in to see Reggie and Tinker. ‘Find a man in West Africa called Kruger, he’s linked in somehow, and O’Reilly works for him – planning a trap for my men. Tinker, find a business in Freetown with a name like a fish, and fast.
‘Oh, and Lord Michaels is close to a Burgess and a Maddocks, both were blue-blooded Army officers, Guards probably. Have a look and add them to the list.’
‘Name like a fish, could be anything!’ Tinker protested.
‘You’re a smart man, so go be smart.’
I stepped out and called Moran. ‘It’s Wilco, and I just got confirmation that it is a trap, a well laid trap, ex-SAS advising them.’
‘We shot-up twelve blacks near the border, a patrol, well-armed, and they had claymores.’
‘Claymores, ouch. Don’t cross the border, and stay inside it by … say five miles, till we pick up the man planning your ambush.’
Next call was the embassy in Sierra Leone, a request to chat to the ambassador. I had to wait.
‘Major Wilco?’
‘Yes, you the same ambassador that went for a trip with me?’
‘I am, and your friend … is being very cooperative, can’t do enough to assist us, new bridge repairs, road repairs, airline.’
‘Good. Listen, sir, can you check old embassy records from twenty years back, for a young Army officer on placement there, a Burgess.’
‘What for?’
‘He’s spending money on destabilising the area where you currently sleep.’
‘Oh. What were you looking for, in particular?’
‘Dates, known activities, trips, associates, anything. And I need it quickly, sir.’
‘We’re on alert, trouble in the north…’
‘Yes, sir, interested parties want revenge for what we did in Guinea, as well as access to the inland oil in the region, which is vast – and that detail was hidden for many years.’
‘Why am I getting that from you and not the Foreign Office?’
‘Sometimes, sir, what you get from me is not to be passed on nor discussed outside a secure inner group. Call me back, please.’
‘One more thing. Diana. I’m a distant relative. Did they … did they kill her?’
‘Yes.’
After a long pause came. ‘London Intel?’
‘No, London old boy network linked to foreign interests who want the oil under your feet. Her death was not related to the oil, but facilitated by those men and groups that think they’re above the law. They’ve grown in confidence and are being open and reckless at the moment. They were behind the coup in Liberia.’
‘Which you put down, hence the attempts on your life. Can you … hint at a name?’
‘I’m not allowed to.’
‘I see. Power does indeed corrupt.’
I wondered what he meant. ‘It doesn’t corrupt me, but I work for London and have to toe the line if I want to keep functioning.’
‘And if I floated the name … Lord Reginald Michaels of Chichester.’
‘Why that name, sir?’
‘A few months back he quite openly suggested at a dinner party that she be silenced, and prevented from marrying a Muslim.’
‘Could you … get a sworn statement to that effect from a few people?’
‘I could, yes.’
‘Then do so, but deal direct with me, sir. Leave the FCO out of it, that way you cannot be told to keep it to yourself.’
‘I see. I’ll … check those old records now, Major.’
At 8pm, as I sat with Henri and Sasha discussing events, Tomsk called. ‘Hey Napoleon,’ I began in Russian, Sasha smiling. ‘No.2 is sat with me.’
‘Give him my regards, yes. And I have this French man with one foot sat here, but he does not want to cooperate.’
‘Put him on please.�
� I waited.
‘Allo? Oui.’
‘You speak some English, I was told.’
‘Who told you zat?’
‘The head of the DGSE, before he was killed trying to protect me.’
‘Trying to protect you? You are wanted.’
‘I use another name to Petrov. Most days my soldiers call me Wilco.’
‘Vilco?’
‘Yes.’
‘This Tomsk is smiling. What is going on?’
‘I am a British Army officer, and I pretend to be Petrov, illegal work for the CIA, the British and French governments, such as building up Tomsk.’
‘What is your interest in me?’
‘I want to take down the bank, they were behind the coup in Liberia and Guinea … and they keep trying to kill me.’
‘I see this in the newspapers and I suspect it is them, yes.’
‘Tomsk will pay you well, and he can change your identity. So tell me how I hurt them?’
After a pause came, ‘Debt swaps.’
‘Debt swaps?’ I puzzled.
‘At the end of a year, you pay tax on your profits in your company. If you give money to someone else, you pay less tax, and after the tax year they give it back. They help you, you help them after. If you give them ten billion it means you keep two billion in tax maybe.
‘They do this for many big bank, and company, with an American bank they own, Pacific Prime in New York, up some tall tower. It is illegal, but all big bank do this. In London, the big accountant companies, they do it more than others. Antwerp Bank, they do this for forty years.’
‘Can you write down all you know? You will be well paid. And if you want to go home, you go home, we will not harm you.’
‘If you fuck zee bank, I help. You go blow up zere computer.’
‘Computer?’
‘Near the bank is another building, big computer in it, two hundred metre is second computer for if the first is broken.’
‘What’s the computer used for, storing records?’
‘ATM.’
‘They run ATMs, for their customers..?’
‘Yes, in Europe and Africa. Millions of people.’
I smiled widely. ‘David, you are bad man.’
‘They tried to kill me, now maybe I can fuck them some.’
‘Start writing, please, have a coffee.’ He put Tomsk back on. ‘Look after him well, make sure he is more protected than your cock.’
‘Are some shits after my oil in Liberia?’
‘Yes, but the British Army is trying hard to stop them. That man, he can tell you all about who they are.’
‘OK, I talk with him, I want to know about these shits.’
‘Pukha.’ I called Leon direct.
‘Ah, Petrov, how goes the good fight?’ came in Russian.
‘We’re making progress. Listen, you know the layout of the bank in Antwerp?’
‘I have a map, drawings and sketches right here. It is becoming … a passion, if not an obsession.’
‘I just found out that near the main building are two smaller buildings with the bank’s computers in, for ATM machines, millions of customers.’
‘Ah, there are two buildings north 400m, not guarded, no signs on the buildings, but the area is fenced off and guarded, many cameras. Solid buildings, high windows, but dozens of air conditioner outlets on the roof, so I guess they are for the computers.’
‘Be a shame if the electricity was disrupted, millions of people unable to use their bank cards.’
‘That would cause a problem for the bank, yes. There are other computers as well, on the first floor of the main building, glass wall, 600m to some tall apartment blocks. I was considering some damage to those computers.’
‘It all helps, yes. Got a paper and pen?’ I waited, then listed the names of the men we knew about. ‘That man Burgess, wait till I have the dates for when he was in Sierra Leone, then go fabricate some evidence – he likes small boys.’
‘In which case, maybe we don’t need to fabricate the evidence, just stretch it a little. I have a good man in Sierra Leone.’
‘Have him look for a business with a name like a fish, then check out who’s running it, white men. And O’Reilly is in Guinea, so maybe we can grab him. Oh, have you come across a bank in New York, Pacific Prime?’
‘Yes, but they’re not a traditional bank, they handle loans and risk assessment for smaller banks around the world, some that can’t get a good credit rating, many banks in Africa. They’re competitors of mine in a way, I loaned to a few small banks in Africa. They’re involved here?’
‘Yes, owned by our Dutch/Belgian bank, and a source tells me they’ve been running debt swaps for forty years.’
‘All banks run debt swaps to some degree, but if it was organised and systematic then it would be seen as fraud, FBI interested and the regulators in America. I would guess that Pacific Prime cleans up African banks, maybe some land deals as collateral.’
‘Ah, the penny just dropped; banks, land, mines and oil, and in Africa. We need a close look at this bank. You have people in New York?’
‘Yes, Jewish relatives. One is something of a mobster.’
‘Have him discretely observe the bank staff as they leave work, look for a fat middle-aged man, and maybe that guy likes the lap dance bars in Manhattan, cheating on his wife.’
‘I’ll make a call, send some money, but finding a Wall Street banker in a lap dance bar after work is like finding shit in a pig pen – they go hand in hand.’
I laughed. ‘Then we may get lucky, and can blackmail someone or bribe them. Oh, the bank’s computers, 600m you said?’
‘Yes.’
‘I think I know a man that could hit them.’ I called Bob as Sasha listened in. ‘Get Leggit off the sofa, get him an unregistered Valmet long casing, some Teflon rounds. 600m from the bank is an apartment block. Rent an apartment, and have Leggit find the windows for the first floor computers, knock out the windows then hit the computers.’
‘They might be pissed off with us afterwards,’ Bob teased.
‘Yes, and looking very hard for the shooter. So have a good sniper on ice, body to be found, prints on the rifle – promises of a big pay out. Have a man ready to set diversions in the street for Leggit, another man with transport, swap transport a few miles away, a man there to stop anyone following, be very careful because they will be looking hard.’
‘OK, I’ll make some plans, but I have a few men ready, was thinking of bugging the bank but Leon has already done so.’
‘He’s bugged them?’
‘His firemen got three bugs in place in canteens and toilets, not anywhere important. We figured they’d sweep for bugs in the board room, so we went for the executive canteen and toilets – where most people gossip anyhow. They’re voice activated, and we have a receiver on a building less than a mile away.’
‘You are indeed a sneaky shit, Bob.’
‘Thanks.’ And he meant it.
In the morning I had Reggie and Tinker look at Pacific Prime, and to map the company’s interests in West Africa. Fortunately they had a handy website that listed all their branches in Africa, and most of their customers.
The ambassador to Sierra Lone came on at 10am. ‘I have the dates you were interested in.’ He read them out and I wrote them down. ‘There’s a note in the file, a warning handed down for visiting brothels.’
‘Could I get a copy of that?’
‘Not … officially, no.’
‘Then send it unofficially, and help me win this war against the little shits who killed Diana.’
‘I’ll see what I can do.’
I called Bob and gave him the dates, and the brothel name, to pass on to Leon, but after twenty years that brothel would have closed or changed hands a few times. We’d be looking for some very old hookers with good memories.
Back in the Intel room I formally asked Captain Harris to request high level monitoring of northeast Guinea by GCHQ, then grabbed a map, the team round
ed up and assembled around the map board, the Brigadier stood next to me, Rocko listening in.
I began, pointing at the map, ‘Our men are in the north east of Sierra Leone, north of the FOB, but I’ve told them not to cross the border. I have intel that a trap has been laid for us by Guinea rebels being nudged along by external third parties, making use of the existing anger felt by those rebels against us – us the British Army. We put down the coup, and got the credit in the press.
‘We’ve seen a few small patrols moving south to set ambushes, claymores carried, and you don’t carry claymores on patrol. The people sending the patrols south hope we’ll follow them back to their bases, where the traps are being laid. I have asked GCHQ to monitor the area, and we may get lucky and find which base they’re using.’
‘You said it was a trap,’ the Brigadier noted.
‘Yes, sir, but … but we have to deal with them not just sit in the jungle for the next year. So, people, how do we spring the trap without getting men killed and wounded?’
‘Won’t be easy,’ Captain Harris began. ‘One claymore and we lose ten men. And maybe they have mines laid ready. They probably have a camp with some good signals intel, deliberately indiscrete radio chatter, surrounded by mines and claymores.’
‘They have ex-SAS advisors as well,’ I pointed out, the Brigadier sighing loudly and cursing.
‘Hit them from the air,’ Stenson suggested.
‘There may be civilians in the mix,’ I pointed out. ‘And we’d need a good reason to bomb them.’
‘You do, but my boys like to bomb places, any places,’ he pointed out. ‘News Stateside is running this, calls for action. Well, they want to bomb Brussels, but – you know – call for action anyhow, and no fucker in the States knows where Brussels is.’
Captain Harris noted, ‘Before a bombing run we need eyes-on and accurate intel, and that means a small team risking the minefields and getting eyes-on.’
Stenson told me, ‘Still got a carrier nearby, fixed wing, and the birds have cameras, so let them earn their damn keep.’
Captain Harris told him, ‘They’ll know we’re onto them.’
‘They want us up there, that’s what we’re saying here,’ Stenson countered with. ‘So a fly-by will confirm that we’re looking, ground units to follow.’