Wilco- Lone Wolf 21

by Geoff Wolak

  ‘Depends on how the media spin it.’

  ‘If there's a shit story I'll release a counter story, don't worry.’

  I called David and warned him.

  He called back at 2pm, as more Wolves with bites marks were driven back to us. ‘The news has hit in the States, a suggestion that you're searching for a nuclear device in West Africa.’

  ‘Is it likely to cause a problem?’

  ‘Some loud questions already being asked, CNN thinks that terrorists could get it, and that you're never involved unless it's serious.’

  ‘I'm in Germany, not West Africa.’

  ‘They don't know that.’

  ‘I'll issue a story, don't worry.’ I sat and thought about what I might say, then called Max.

  ‘Wilco, you searching for a nuclear bomb?’ came from Max.

  ‘No. Story for Reuters, to be released straight away. Twenty years ago, at the mine in Liberia, men were replaced with body doubles at a time when a rich uranium deposit was discovered and kept quiet. A week ago a combined CIA and British Intelligence operation found fresh evidence, and a body was discovered near the mine. That man had been shot three times in the back, but his body was radioactive.

  ‘British and American special forces are on the ground and conducting a search with specialists, for the source of the radiation, but the evidence trail is twenty years old. This search is a matter of some urgency because of recent attempts by agents of hostile governments to follow the same evidence trail. We're in a race to see who finds it first.

  ‘In Senegal we found an old Soviet era bunker, with the components of a nuclear bomb but with the plutonium missing. It is possible that there are other such bunkers, maybe with fissile material. We're conducting a search using specialist aircraft in the hope for finding a residual reading in Liberia.’

  ‘So there's no bomb.’

  ‘Fucking hope not, but somehow the guy got irradiated. Release it.’

  An hour later the Deputy Chief called. ‘I'm getting questions about my team in Africa, and I don't have a team in Africa.’

  ‘Practise lying.’

  ‘I am doing. And since you work with us, I claim a man with your team – name of Wilco.’

  ‘I am a whore to be hired out. That plane on station?’

  ‘Soon, then it will sweep the area. The kit it has is very sensitive, even for a trail twenty years old.’

  Doctor Summers, Porton Down, called next. ‘Wilco, we're in Freetown, on our way over to Liberia, to check the area where the body was found.’

  ‘Ask London for Staff Sergeant Rizzo, he has a sat phone, he can lead you to it.’

  I called Rizzo. ‘Listen, that body you found, it was radioactive.’

  ‘What! We contaminated or something?’

  ‘No, and there's a team coming down and they can check you over. Listen, show them the body but hide the gold, warn everyone, no mention of the fucking gold.’

  ‘It went by helo, two helos, half a tonne of it, none left, haven't found much more today.’

  ‘Get back to the mine, lead the scientists to where the body was, then carry on looking for gold. Have regular soldiers help the scientists.’

  I called Mike Papa. ‘Mister President, it's Petrov.’

  ‘We were just talking about the gold.’

  ‘Melt it down, refine it, then sell it, take thirty percent for yourself, rest to Tomsk.’

  ‘It is worth several millions.’

  ‘It will be spent fighting all the people that want your head.’

  ‘Please don't joke about that, I don't sleep well now.’

  ‘You have me looking out for you, what more do you want?’

  ‘I want a quiet life.’

  ‘People try and kill Tomsk all the time, you are blood brothers.’

  ‘Indeed yes. Many are jealous of us.’

  ‘How long till the pipe is finished?’

  ‘Soon, and they tested the lower reaches, salt water pumped up and let flow down under pressure, to test for leaks, but it is being encased in concrete anyhow.’

  ‘And your offshore oil?’

  ‘That is doing well, much money made, many new jobs for the people here. I build roads and bridges, and Tomsk builds apartment blocks. His new hotel is nice, a helicopter pad on the roof, and the oil workers stay there, very safe, no trouble.’

  I called GL4, getting hold of Major Harris. ‘Do a review of special forces in West Africa, because if we need to move on the radioactive material you can dispatch them. Have them on standby, not up the jungle.’

  ‘I'll call around now and see who's where. Where do you think the radioactive material is?’

  ‘Fuck knows, it all happened twenty years ago.’

  ‘It's all over the BBC and CNN. Funny really, because you're in Germany. They all think you're in Liberia.’

  ‘Safer that way, the deadly assassins will go down there looking for me.’

  After dark I dispatched Echo in pairs, to torment the Wolves whilst not getting caught or bitten themselves. Murphy and Terry left me with sinister grins fixed to their faces.

  In the morning came a tale of a pair of American Wolves who had tripped a wire and been hit in the head with human excrement. Facemasks needed an urgent wash in a stream. And to make it worse for the pair, they stank, less chance of losing the dogs.

  But they had made the RV, cursing loudly, the team behind bitten, caught and tied up. When returned to me, the pair were dropped by the MPs in a muddy puddle, still bound.

  ‘Don't just lay there, get up!' I shouted at them. ‘You have knives, so cut yourselves free. And quickly, you useless fucks!'

  They struggled to cut themselves free, eventually upright and being shouted at by their captain.

  The MP captain then drove down to me. Down from his jeep, he was not a happy bunny, his teeth gritted as he saluted. ‘Someone … stole two of our jeeps, sir. We found them in a stream.’

  ‘Captain, are you telling me that the useless fucks that work for you allowed two jeeps to be stolen?’

  ‘No, sir, I'm telling you that I have some men to kill, I just wanted you to be aware of it – in case you find their fucking bodies in the woods.’

  ‘Tighten up, Captain,’ I urged, hiding my grin. ‘You're the police, so if you can't protect your own jeeps, who can, eh.’

  Half an hour later and Tomo and Nicholson came in with Stickler and Swan.

  Nicholson told me, ‘Stickler is a bit of a car thief, Boss.’

  ‘A good skill to have, just don't get caught by the MPs because they're mad as hell.’

  When Murphy and Terry returned I had them stand in front of me, Slider next to me. ‘What did you do?’

  ‘Boss?’

  ‘Were you out there having fun?’

  They studied their boots. ‘Well, some.’

  ‘A trip wire loaded with shit?’

  ‘Well … maybe, Boss. But that wasn't the best part. I set me a hog snare for the dogs, and two dogs they ended up hog tied and on their backs, yelping.’

  I smiled widely, a look exchanged with Slider. ‘You'll go far in Echo, you have a healthy contempt for the rules. On an exercise in Catterick, Tomo stole the front gate on an Army base, and it was being guarded at the time. Now teach everyone in Echo to make a hog snare.’

  Slider asked me, ‘They have wild boar in Kosovo?’

  ‘Yes, bacon for breakfast.’

  Doctor Summers called midday. ‘We found a coin under where the body was.’

  ‘A coin?’

  ‘Yes, and it's radioactive, the source of the poison for that poor chap. Someone slipped it into his possession somehow, and he probably carried it around for weeks, none the wiser, slowly getting poisoned – till they shot him.’

  ‘Whoever placed it would have been contaminated.’

  ‘Not necessarily. Coin in a small lead case, opened and dropped into a coat pocket, limited time exposure for the assassin.’

  ‘Could that small lead case have been taken on
a plane?’

  ‘Yes, but a risk. Back then they didn't have the metal detectors though, not like today.’

  ‘Can you identify the decay rate and get me a date?’

  ‘We can, quite accurately.’

  ‘And the type of radiation?’

  ‘Yes, it has a distinct signature.’

  ‘Search the immediate area please.’

  ‘Will do. And that mine is back to looking clean so long as you don't peer down into the mine workings. I saw the photos of the damage, and it's much better now.’

  ‘Do they still complain about me?’

  ‘We were in the bar last night, and some debated it with us, but no one suggested you were remiss in your duties, not openly at least.’

  I called Langley, the Deputy Chief. ‘We found the source of the radiation that killed our scientist, and it was a radioactive coin placed on him.’

  ‘A coin?’

  ‘Yes. He must have carried it around for weeks.’

  ‘A slow acting poison, and a nasty one. Not heard of that being used before, it would cause too much interest.’

  ‘Still much to learn. Has your plane found anything?’

  ‘They pinpointed where the body was found, that's all so far. No large leaking sources within five hundred miles. They'll now set the sensors and look for tiny particles.’

  ‘And who leaked the story?’

  ‘Could be Air Force, a sergeant who saw the orders.’

  ‘Deep State said that it was one of yours.’

  ‘They got a name?’

  ‘No, but they did make the suggestion.’

  ‘I'll investigate, just in case, but our people don't leak things to the Press. That comes with twenty years in a federal prison.’

  I called Bob Staines next and gave him the detail.

  He responded, ‘If you want someone dead you shoot them. If it's personal, you shoot them in the stomach or stab them. To irradiate someone like that is a message, to stop pissing about with radioactive material. They knew he would be diagnosed eventually, but he got shot. And he would have contaminated his family and work colleagues.

  ‘To irradiate that coin took a government-level decision, and a message to be sent, that this man was up to no good – a clue about radiation. There are not that many nuclear reactors that could have irradiated the coin to order, and I'm leaning towards either the South Africans or the Israelis. They did it as a punishment, and a message.’

  I noted, ‘The body double was killed in a car crash, could have been a simple accident, so the people who shot him and replaced him were not the ones that put the coin there, hence shooting him in the back and replacing him. They never knew he was contaminated.’

  Bob noted, ‘So the Belgian bank, or the American oil company, swapped him with a body double that fooled Mi6? Hardly. His family and work colleagues would have noticed.’

  ‘Might not have had a family, and … they did swap him, or … maybe not. Maybe the body double was spotted and killed in the car crash. But Mi6 has no record of that.’

  Bob huffed. ‘I'm leaning towards Deep State or the CIA killing the body double for some reason, maybe the same reason as the people who irradiated him. The two groups were not talking to each other.’

  I suggested, ‘How about ... this scientist had Russian sympathies like the guy Abrahams we found murdered at the mine, CIA get wind of it and want to kill him because this scientist is assisting the Russians with the uranium ore.’

  ‘The Russians dug it up and moved it, they never needed any help on site,’ Bob insisted.

  ‘Unless there were other projects we never knew about, and London and Washington never new about the damn ore mine.’

  ‘Because the bank hid it,’ Bob noted. ‘Inside job.’

  ‘The people who shot him didn't know he was sick, or they would have left him to suffer, so yes – there are two groups in play here.’

  Bob put in, ‘I think he did something to upset the Israelis or the South Africans, provided his skills to a rogue nation.’

  ‘Such as Egypt, so the Israelis would have poisoned him, and London would have found out, a subtle message. London would have tracked back.’

  ‘If that's the case then there's no need to worry, there's no radiation source outside of a national government.’

  ‘Let's hope so. How much gold was there?’

  ‘It comes in at eight million quid, give or take.’

  ‘I told the President in Monrovia to take thirty percent, so factor that in. Rest through Tomsk back to you. And there could be more.’

  ‘No, the best men tell me that such deposits do occur in nature, but they're rare. Very unlikely to find a second deposit in Liberia.’

  ‘Very well, on with the next headache, unless the Americans find a radiation spike in West Africa.’

  ‘We're looking to see who was tailing Hammish and Preston when they were alive, hotel records, flights, and looking at the recipient list of licenses for the mine. Unfortunately it goes to the French Government.’

  ‘The ex-CIA contractor and his dead buddy are your best bet for a link to the team, if there is a team out there.’

  ‘We have their gold, if that's what they were after. Seems no purpose to hiding the body, the evidence trail goes nowhere, no atomic bomb in West Africa.’

  An hour later and the Deputy Chief called. ‘We got a spike of radiation, sent to the SEALs at the mine and your Army in Freetown. It's north of the mine ten miles.’

  ‘How much of a spike?’

  ‘Small one, but it shouldn't be there.’

  I updated London, then Bob Staines.

  ‘So the game is afoot,’ Bob noted. ‘There is something more to this.’

  ‘Keep looking at that contractor. I'll let you know what they find in Liberia.’

  At 6pm Rizzo called. ‘We're at this place the Yanks sent us too, SEALs with us, some ‘D' Squadron men – all hanging back and not wanting to get close. There's a square pit dug out, some metal poles, and fuck all else.’

  ‘Doctor Summers there?’

  ‘Yeah, with his clever kit. He says the metal poles are radioactive.’

  ‘So there was something buried, not there now. Get Doctor Summers to update me later.’

  I called David Finch. ‘They found a hole in the ground north of the mine in Liberia, metal poles that are radioactive, so something had been buried but has now been moved, or moved twenty years ago.’

  ‘Could be anywhere, back in Russia, but the question is how it got there, because they never refined the ore on site – that would be impossible. And to have something in the ground that was radioactive enough to contaminate the area around it would be ridiculous - it would poison the men who put it there, and back in the Cold War the satellites were looking for such radiation spikes.’

  ‘Looking in a shit-hole like West Africa?’

  ‘Probably not, no.’

  ‘The spike is there, so something was there, however daft it was to bury it then move it. Question is, where did it end up, because I got a clue from our mystery man in Deep State relevant to this, and now, so he meant it as timely intel. That radioactive lump of whatever is not in a safe place.’

  ‘No, would seem odd to be lead us down this route for nothing. So, we have to find it.’

  ‘Send a note to Langley, ask that they widen the search to all of North Africa, the friendly states that is. We might get lucky, unless it went on a ship.’

  ‘The ship would end up radioactive, the fissile material would need proper safe transport.’

  ‘I don't think these boys gave a shit about proper safe transport, hence a radioactive hole in the ground.’

  ‘I'll make a request through Langley. And worry some. I'll worry why radioactive material was taken all the way to a uranium or mine and dumped near it. That makes no sense at all.’

  The next day we had a long list of Wolves with bites. Two had tripped over fishing line and twisted wrists, two had twisted ankles, and some had hurt themse
lves when ending up snared and stuck.

  They had not been getting much in the way of quality sleep, and I kept the pressure up. They did, however, have plenty of good food.

  The next exercise was training, and one Echo man would take out four American Wolves to create an OP overnight, an OP on a road, Sergeant Crab set to drive around, and the Wolves would be required to note times of vehicles, and numbers and types of vehicles.

  I gave Slider our Echo basics, Stickler and Doc Willy, Parker and Monster, and he would lead and teach them. Mitch would take out Tiller and Brace with Murphy and Terry.

  The teams would be required to set a camp back from the OP, to set a waterproof hidden OP and with an escape route or two, and trip wires around the OP and camp, scent trails leading away from both.

  David Finch called at Midday. ‘We've done some checking, and Hammish and Preston had no plans to retire and live off the gold, they had extended oil contracts and mortgages on houses in the UK, they certainly weren't about to head to a sunnier clime.’

  ‘So maybe they were not interested in the gold, but something else, something more valuable, or – like others – they thought themselves reporting back to the CIA.’

  ‘Yes,’ David agreed. ‘Duped. We're checking phone records and contacts to find out who they were reporting back to. As for our ex-CIA assassin, he has flights around Europe more than Canada and the States, little time spent at home in Canada. Last year he visited Belgium several times. And his pistol tracks back to one used in a murder in Salzburg, a financier.’

  ‘Can you give all that to Tinker at GL4 please, then our ghosts get it. And Salzburg is their area, they can get a man on the ground. Or a woman!'

  ‘I will do, yes. And we get detail coming back to us from Tinker as well, a two-way street.’

  ‘As it should be. What about the second dead body in Gibraltar?’

  ‘So far, a fake ID, the real him not identified. Tattoos possibly suggest a prison in South Africa.’

  Sat thinking, I looked up a number and called Steffan at the SVR. ‘It's Petrov.’

  ‘Ah, long time.’

  ‘Tomsk keeps me busy, Panama and West Africa. I have a question, so I wanted to ask … are we still thinking of each other as friends?’