Wilco- Lone Wolf - Book 4

by Geoff Wolak

  ‘Bones are scattered,’ Nicholson added. ‘So something ate him.’

  ‘There are Jaguar here,’ I told them. ‘OK, make camp, we’ll be here a while! Keep an eye out for hungry Jaguar.’

  ‘Is Jaguar plural?’ Moran puzzled. ‘It sounds like it, one of those words that can single or plural. A Jaguar, here there are Jaguar.’

  Bob called back, the Lynx on its way, this was now top priority, and fifteen minutes later we could hear the Lynx but not see it. Coming back around, it finally spotted the wreck, the winch lowering down a basket. I loaded the gold, the briefcase - minus some of the US Dollars, the passports, and up it went, the Lynx departing quickly. Camp taken down, we headed north, and I smiled; I loved being in the jungle.

  The trees thinned out a little, and half a mile on I could hear something. I clicked on the radio. ‘Someone ahead, get ready. Rizzo, my left, Rocko, my right, slow and steady.’

  A glance left, a glance right, and I moved forwards, my team in a line, the distant sound growing, and once through a dense cluster of bushes we found a quarry, a diamond mining operation, and on a large scale. There had to be two hundred semi-naked men and boys earnestly digging and panning in the red mud. And in several places we could see jeeps and trucks - and soldiers.

  I clicked on the radio. ‘Rizzo, go left a hundred yards, don’t be seen. Rocko, go right. Salties, watch our rear. Everyone else close up.’

  Peering through my sights, I counted twenty soldiers, but there was a road north, a track of compacted red dirt, possibly more soldiers along that road, possibly soldiers in the trees.

  ‘It’s Rizzo, we’re in position.’

  ‘Rocko, you ready?’

  ‘Yeah, just about.’

  ‘Rizzo, hit the men on the left, Rocko, the men closest to you, don’t hit the civvies. When I fire, you fire.’ I turned to my team. ‘Hit the men in the centre. Well go on then,’ I encouraged as I lazily held my rifle horizontally. ‘I’m taking a break.’

  Swifty knelt and aimed, a round cracking out, a soldier knocked back, dozens of overlapping cracks sounding out, the soldiers below having nowhere to hide as the workers peered around, unsure of what was happening, some running.

  I clicked on the radio. ‘Take silencers off, fire near the workers, scare them off, don’t ... hit any.’

  Distinct discharge sounds filled the air and scared the birds out of the trees, the men below running for cover, most running towards the track north, the ground near them spitting up red dust, the sweat-soaked workers being rounded up like sheep.

  Ten minutes later we had an empty quarry. ‘I just realised something,’ I told my team. I took out my phone as they stared at me. ‘Bob, try and get the Lynx back, and the French involved, and get a survey done of all diamond mining operations, their exact locations. The pilots will recognise a patch of brown dirt, a stream, in the middle of green jungle. We need them all mapped.’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘What do you think will happen if we put men at them all, scaring off the miners?’

  ‘The funding would dry up, yes. Excellent idea, they won’t be able to afford the hardware. I’ll get on it.’

  ‘And do me a favour, save me talking to him; ask Major O’Donnell to shut down and interfere with all diamond mining operations in Sierra Leone.’

  ‘Why don’t you want to talk to him, is he an obstacle?’ Bob asked.

  ‘Not a great obstacle, but he’s not someone I’d sit down and have a beer with, bit of a pain in the arse.’

  ‘I’ll get it sorted. Where are you?’

  ‘A few miles from the main base in Liberia, we just shut down a diamond mine, the workers all given a half day – time for wives and family.’ Phone away, I clicked on the radio. ‘Everyone, move north. Salties close up.’

  We began moving along the edge of the quarry, joining Rizzo and moving on, soon close to the road, a few workers hanging around, a few well-aimed shots sending them scurrying away.

  Adopting the tree line next to the track, we pushed north, a few shots needed to scare the workers off, and eventually we came to the road. Peering down the road I could see a long line of men walking back towards the town, and now with jeeps approaching, but the mine workers were blocking the approaching vehicles.

  ‘Jeeps coming, get ready, spread out left. Rocko, get across the track, get solid fire positions. Salties, watch that track behind us.’

  The jeeps cleared the obstacle of complaining half-day workers and moved towards us, two of the jeeps hosting mounted fifty cal.

  ‘I want those fifty cal jeeps intact,’ I transmitted. ‘Make sure they’re not damaged, just hit the men. Rocko, RPG on the first jeep. Make that Slider, he might hit it.’

  ‘Yeah, bollocks,’ came back, the men around me laughing.

  The jeeps approached, but slowly and cautiously, and at just ten yards I hit the driver twice as he prepared to turn up the track, the windscreen turning white but it shattered as other men fired. A blast, and the RPG head hit the jeep probably before its rocket even kicked in, the jeep split open as if it was made of tin foil and soon engulfed in flame and smoke.

  I aimed and fired at a soldier stood manning a fifty cal, a head shot, and he disappeared, the jeep turning side on. That just meant that the driver and passenger - window down, got themselves killed very quickly, the jeep slowly rolling forwards off the road.

  The trailing jeep tried a three point turn, his side window up but shattered quickly, driver and passenger hit many times, the man in the back knocked off the jeep, a thud as he hit the road. I peered down the road, the half-day workers now sprinting.

  ‘Get those two jeeps cleaned up and ready,’ I transmitted as I stepped out onto the road. Peering into the back of one of the jeeps I could see plenty of ammo.

  Rocko dragged a body out and dumped it on the road, getting in. The engine was still running, so he drove it down the road and back as Rizzo grabbed the second jeep.

  ‘What we doing with these?’ Moran asked.

  ‘The fifty cal will come in handy, but first ... first we need these back at base.’ I called Captain Harris and asked about a French Puma; one was available, the French suddenly wanting to be more helpful. I asked for this call to be traced, but gave map coordinates as well, an empty Puma sent to us.

  Waiting on the road was dangerous, so I had most of the lads dispersed to the trees, and fifteen minutes later a lone jeep approached from the town. Peering through my sights I could see soldiers in the back.

  ‘Rocko, see if you can hit that jeep with the fifty cal, but don’t waste ammo, we need it.’

  Rocko jumped up, Slider having been playing with the fifty cal machinegun, and he aimed down the road as the jeep approached. The lone jeep slowed at a hundred yards, finally came to a halt, and Rocko opened up, the lone jeep’s windscreen shattered, men falling out of the back, picked off by Moran and Mahoney as the sounds of the Puma grew.

  ‘Salties, get to that jeep, check it, make sure they’re dead, and back sharpish.’

  They ran out and along the road as the Puma circled. We waved, and it set down.

  ‘Henri, your team and 2 Squadron, in the Puma, GPMGs in the doors. I want that Puma to fly ahead of us four hundred yards, look out for trouble, we’re driving west across the border and then south. Go!’

  Henri’s team boarded up, GPMGs made ready, the Puma crew chatted to. He finally leant out and gave me a thumbs-up as the Puma lifted up.

  Turning, I found the Salties in a jeep, the windscreen removed.

  ‘Everyone get in the jeeps!’ I grabbed a passenger seat, Swifty driving, Rocko on the fifty cal, Rocko’s team in the back, Rizzo’s team behind, the jeep without a windscreen stacked up with men. ‘Headcount your teams!

  Tapping Swifty on the arm, I pointed forwards, and we took point, picking up speed, but three hundred yards on I strained to look back, thankfully not seeing any of the lads left behind and now running along behind us.

  The Puma was in sight, and we pic
ked up speed, hitting fifty mph till we reached the ill-defined border, slowing down and now alert as we crossed the bridge, turning south after a mile, the riverside track narrow and potholed, little traffic to worry about, a few oxen negotiated around, a few kids scattered by our approach, and we soon joined the main bridge road – the Puma still above us, burnt out APC negotiated around.

  I took out my phone and called Haines. ‘It’s Wilco, warn everyone that we’re driving in three jeeps, don’t fire at us, Puma overhead.’

  We drove past the southern end of the former druggy village, now quiet save a few wild dogs, and turned south towards the FOB.

  Nearing the FOB’s static RPG position, I brought the jeeps to a halt and got out, walking on ahead. After two hundred yards, Sergeant Crab stepped out of the trees.

  ‘What you doing?’ he puzzled.

  ‘We nicked the jeeps, handy fifty cal.’

  ‘Aye, handy.’ He stood on the side of the road and watched us as I jogged along, leading the column in. And thankfully no one opened up on us, Haines and Fisher stood waiting.

  I pointed at 2nd Lt Fisher as the jeeps parked and the lads jumped down, the loud Puma disgorging my lads. ‘I want green and black paint, and some sheet metal. I also want some fifty cal ammo.’

  ‘Where did you get them?’ Haines asked.

  ‘Across the border, one careless owner.’ I faced Fisher. ‘Try and get me some British jeeps from the airport.’

  Major O’Donnell stepped out with two of his troop captains. ‘Pinched a few jeeps,’ he noted.

  ‘We found them abandoned, keys inside,’ I joked, but with a straight face.

  ‘They’ll come in handy, I’m sure. Anyway, I’ve had a new directive from London, and we’ll target the diamond mines here, cut off their revenue.’

  I nodded. ‘Seems like a good idea, sir, because without revenue the gunmen go home and get another job, and weapons are expensive.’

  ‘We’ll be using French Pumas for inserts, hitting the mines.’

  ‘Best policy, sir, would be four man teams hidden at the mines, and they do what we did today ... and open up on the workers to scare them off, and to stop them returning. If you just scare them off they’ll be back in an hour.’

  He nodded. ‘Yes, probably would be.’

  I faced Haines. ‘In the short term, have some men placed on those fifty cal to defend this place. Get Sergeant Crab to teach them, fire a few rounds.’ He nodded as I led my team inside, kit off.

  I took a shower, had a shave, thinking about strategy here. Cleaned up, clean clothes on, I grabbed my team, Rocko and Rizzo, and we sat outside on ammo boxes.

  I began, ‘If we stop the miners working, it cuts the revenue for the arseholes in charge; no money, no weapons, no men. But we’d have to keep the mines shutdown for a while, and we’re not here for a while. If the revenue is cut for a few weeks the bad boys will panic, not sure what they’ll do.’

  ‘Why grab the jeeps?’ Moran asked. ‘We’re better in the jungle on foot.’

  ‘Yeah, but Liberia is a big place, and we don’t like helicopter flights that much. This area is now quiet, we can hit any gunmen left this side of the border, but once we’ve cleared that base again we’ve got a forty mile walk to the next major base. That’s a long old hike, and we need to consider casevac.

  ‘What I’m thinking with these jeeps, and the Land Rovers, is that we hit the mines here every day for a while, drive and patrol, put the screws on, then have other people take on that role. I don’t want London complaining about gunmen here when we’re in Liberia.

  ‘And the 105mm, we can drive it over the border, set an ambush point, camouflage them, then hit the carriers and demolish buildings. I don’t want to go back into that base without some artillery.’

  Rizzo said, ‘With the fifty cal, the 105mm and ten men with RPG – we could hit that base hard and fast and be gone.’

  I nodded. ‘We think there’re only a handful of carriers left, so we need only knock them out, then hit the infantry there. And if we drove north through that town late one night they’d not expect it, and before we hit it with the jeeps we have men on the wire ready.’

  Mahoney noted, ‘We have a lot of men here, so with a few more jeeps and some more hardware we’d have a freaking brigade, and we’d do some serious damage over there.’

  I told him, ‘London doesn’t want it to look like an invasion, needs to look like hostage rescue ... or recon for hostage rescue.’

  ‘First we hammer the fuckers here,’ Rizzo said. ‘Most are half-arse druggies, so we risk driving around.’

  ‘What we doing with the jeeps?’ Rocko asked. ‘You said paint?’

  ‘Paint them green, black stripes, metal sheets in a few places,’ I told him. ‘We can hide them off the roads and ambush people.’

  ‘Could do with some personnel carriers,’ Rizzo noted.

  ‘They have some here,’ Moran told him.

  I began, ‘If we drove carriers through that town they wouldn’t react. Colours are the same.’

  Moran put in, ‘The one’s I saw near the airport had no turrets.’

  My phone trilled. ‘Wilco.’

  ‘It’s Bob, we have some intel, and some photographs from the Navy, the Lynx, they flew east of you and took images. The intel is about a base across the border with Guinea, but the government there would like us to hit the base, some talk of hostages, but all black as far as we know, possibly some French doctors as well. Lynx will drop the images to you soon. Where are you?’

  ‘Back the FOB, we found some jeeps with fifty cal and pinched them away, so we’re now mobile.’

  ‘That could help with a trip north.’

  ‘We’ll wait the intel then make a plan.’

  ‘Oh, Colonel Rawlson on his way down with senior officers, a review in the field. But they’re being cagey, a legal counsellor with them.’

  ‘Am I in trouble?’ I joked.

  ‘If you are, so am I.’

  Phone away, I faced the lads. ‘OK, we have intel on a base up north, across the border in Guinea, and the government there is happy if we attack it. And we have Lynx photographs of bases to the east. Let’s assume that we may drive north tomorrow, plenty of rest tonight.’

  I went and found 2nd Lt Fisher. ‘Make sure we have some diesel fuel for the jeeps.’

  ‘There is some, I’ll get more.’

  ‘I need cans to take with me tomorrow.’

  Two hours later, the sun low, and a Chinook touched down, a bunch of officers stepping down with Colonel Rawlson and curiously studying the FOB. I stepped out with Major O’Donnell and saluted, a soft cap on. With the Chinook pulling away, the guests stopped and took in the runway, the ammo boxes and the men up on the roof.

  ‘So this is where it all happens,’ a general noted. ‘Been reading about it in The Sun newspaper; excellent for morale and recruitment those stories.’

  ‘We’re less likely to be attacked here now, sir,’ I told him. ‘So ... would you gentlemen like some refreshments?’

  ‘Please, lead on.’

  I led them inside, and asked those in the make-do canteen to kindly leave save one RAF Regiment gunner asked to make the tea and coffee, Haines assisting, our Liberia lady creating a great aroma from next door.

  The officers sat, just about enough room on the chairs and make-do benches, and took in our basic living quarters.

  ‘What can I smell?’ Rawlson asked.

  ‘We have a resident lady cook next door, sir, a former hostage.’

  ‘Why is she still here?’ the general puzzled.

  ‘Nowhere else for her to go till we take her back to Liberia, she’s an illegal here, no rights, and taking her back would be risky for her.’

  They could hear a baby crying.

  ‘And a baby?’

  ‘Two babies, one boy - with an arm amputated here, all orphans.’

  ‘And what the heck do you plan on doing with them?’ the general pressed.

  ‘I plan on ... ke
eping them alive as long as possible, sir. When we leave ... their fate is unknown.’

  Major O’Donnell put in, ‘The local services here are non-existent, sir. And around here they dump unwanted babies in the bushes. North three miles is a mass grave, or two, full of women and babies. This place is hell itself.’

  ‘You’ve had some notable successes,’ a colonel noted, focusing on me and waiting.

  I answered, ‘Yes, sir, not least capturing a Russian arms dealer. Putting him behind bars helps stem the flow of weapons to these parts.’

  ‘And quite a high ... body count,’ the colonel also noted.

  I made a face. ‘Close to five hundred gunmen killed, sir.’

  ‘Incredible, with such a small a force...’

  ‘Good men, good training, good tactics, sir,’ I told him. ‘We play to our strengths and use their weaknesses, set ambushes, trick them.’

  ‘It’s rumoured ... that you dropped RPG heads from a helicopter,’ the general noted.

  ‘Yes, sir, we dropped a great many on a base over the border, destroyed many personnel carriers and some jeeps. That act convinced them to withdraw most of their forces from the border region.’

  ‘A little unconventional, to say the least,’ the general noted, a look exchanged with the other guests.

  ‘Fire an RPG or drop one, the result is the same, sir.’

  ‘Yes, quite.’ The general asked Haines to step out, as well as the lad serving us. He finally faced me. ‘We have ... groups ... attempting to build a case against you, and your apparent policy of leaving no one alive.’

  I could see Rawlson stiffen, O’Donnell looking worried.

  ‘If you have a question, sir, ask it.’

  ‘What is your policy ... exactly?’

  ‘Policy on what, sir?’

  ‘If you encounter an enemy patrol, what is your policy?’

  ‘Policy is to kill as many as possible, sir, or they come back the next day and kill my men, or ... wipe out a village, as they did recently. That policy ... is not breaking any laws, regulations or standing orders, since a soldier aims to finish the conflict he’s in quickly, and to do that you either kill the enemy soldiers, force them to withdraw or to surrender. I’ve studied military law, and there are no rules regarding how hard you try to win a battle.’