by Geoff Wolak
‘OK, stay up the trees, we have plenty of grenades to throw down if need be. Silencers on, rags on the end, and we’re going to play a little game with these men. Just follow my instructions, stay calm.’
I took aim at the first dog, a quiet crack, the handler not sure what had happened till I put a round through his chest, and I was soon hitting the second dog handler, followed by his loyal pooch. And then I waited in my lofty perch.
It was a good six minutes before a wandering guard spotted his friends down, and gave the alarm. Men rushed out of a side entrance, lights turned off.
‘Twenty men this side,’ came from Three. ‘But they have no clue.’
‘Hold your fire,’ I ordered. ‘But report the movements.’
‘They’re moving to the front, some against the wall. Wait, four men coming through a gate, along the wall.’
‘This is Two. I can see eight at the rear, sneaking along.’
I waited till the men had reached their dead colleagues, and the dead dogs, and waited till they were very confused at the lack of an attack. Many stood up and peered around, orders given, twelve men sent out of the gate and in my direction.
Rifle between my legs, I readied two grenades in the dark, pins pulled as the men crept along, stumbling in the dark below me. They were ten yards away and nicely bunched up when I lobbed the first grenade high, and it detonated above their heads. Screams rose up, all of them getting a piece of hot metal, some down and seemingly dead already.
Bursts of fire peppered the trees, but they would have never thought to look up.
‘Number Four, pick them off.’
Dark outlines dropped, but the clatter of their wild firing hid our carefully aimed shots, and I lobbed the second grenade, even higher than the first, ducking behind a branch, and it went off a few feet above their heads, screams rising.
Two men made it back to the house, and I finished off three before it fell quiet.
From the house, fire erupted, and I got behind a branch, some of the rounds a bit close. They were random shots, but close enough to be a worry.
‘Three, do you have a shot?’
‘Yes, I can see four men.’
‘Kill two and wait.’
A minute later he came back on. ‘Two down. I can see a man on the balcony, he has a machinegun.’
‘Kill him only after he fires.’
The heavy fire of a machinegun did not disturb the tree frogs long, but rifles fired out intermittently as I waited.
‘Vehicles coming!’
‘How many?’ I called.
‘Four.’
‘Wait my signal. Three and Four, get ready with grenades, throw high, a lob shot, you want them to go off ten feet up. When they open fire ... shoot them, stop when it goes quiet.’
Car headlights could be seen, followed by the screech of tyres, followed by calls and shouts and footsteps. Finally I had a good view, thirty plus men bent-double near the main gate, another man directing them towards me.
‘Standby grenades, pull pins now ... wait ... throw high now.’
I eased back, but kept an eye on the gang of men as they knelt, two bright flashes and x-ray images of the trees, shouts and screams rising.
Bursts of fire came my way, some a little too close, but they had no idea where I was, and through my sights I could see them dropping. Four of them were edging my way, and I hit all four as they fired at ground level, no idea where I was.
Three men ran or hobbled into the villa, I let them go, and it grew quiet as a group of four limped towards the villa, and finally we were back to tree frogs and crickets. And we waited, fifteen minutes passing.
‘This is Two, women and children leaving at the rear.’
‘Let them go,’ I ordered. ‘They will think the rear is safe.’
‘Some wounded men going as well.’
‘Let them.’
‘This is Three, two men going for the machinegun again.’
‘When they fire it, kill them.’
I ducked behind a branch, the trees around me soon peppered, but the burst did not last long.
‘I got them both,’ came from Three.
Thirty minutes later, and faces were peeking out, our lack of clear logic a puzzle to them. What were we waiting for? What did we want? How many of us were there? They must have been witnessing a raging debate on the inside of that villa, I considered.
Hearing a noise, I looked away from the villa, animals being disturbed. Someone was approaching.
‘This is Petrov, there are men coming in from my side, I’ll let them get to the gate, then we use grenades again.’
The villa lights came on, the lawns now brightly lit, the area around me lit up. Peering down through my sights, I could make out men approaching, cover to cover, a half decent approach, and when one moved into the light it was obvious they were soldiers, and regulars.
‘This is Petrov,’ I whispered. ‘There are Panamanian soldiers approaching, do not fire, stay hidden, stay quiet, wait my signal. I repeat ... do not fire.’
My heart skipped a beat as men moved up to my tree and around it, more than thirty soldiers, soon to the bodies – checked with torches, to the wall and then the gate, jeeps inspected. Ten moved inside, the rest took up defensive positions, some lugging GPMGs.
‘This is Two,’ came a whispered voice. ‘Soldiers coming from the tennis courts, maybe thirty.’
‘Stay calm, stay very quiet.’
It was nerve-racking to let the soldiers approach, and we were now very much in the shit, but the men below had no clue where we were hidden, and would never have figured us hanging around.
The nice lawn was soon full of soldiers, most stood around smoking or chatting, and generally not giving a fuck about anything other than their beds.
A man appeared on the main steps, flanked by bodyguards, and he seemed to be the king pin. He also seemed to be in a raging debate with an officer, if not an argument, arms waved around.
The officer had the bodies all dragged in and lined up over twenty minutes, jeeps driven in, and he disappeared inside the villa again.
When I heard the growl of heavy lorries I figured we’d be dead meat, or at least chased off or wounded, and four trucks trundled in.
But as I watched, wide-eyed and nervous, the vehicles turned around, bored soldiers loaded up, the officer emerging, the king pin once again remonstrating with his military liaison. That liaison wanted his bed, and off he went, a line of bodies left, twelve civilian gunmen left in the grounds.
‘What do we do now?’ asked Three. ‘I think I shit myself.’
‘We wait, and see if more men arrive, we want to kill as many as we can. So get comfy.’
At 1am jeeps approached and slowed, about twenty men getting down, all heavily armed, and incredibly – they bunched up around the bodies for a cigarette.
‘Standby. When I fire, you fire.’ I set automatic, swapped magazines, took careful aim, and then squeezed the trigger, a full magazine expended, and at this range and from this height I could have almost poked them in the eye with my silencer.
Survivors fired out bursts in all directions, including at the villa – breaking glass windows, and some crawled along or ran, but they did not get far.
I swapped magazines as quiet cracks sounded out, set single shot, and I picked off four survivors, but seeing movement at the villa I took aim; the king pin peering out from a window. He was hidden, but not to a good telescopic lens, and I took his face off, the man behind him hit with a head shot.
Scanning windows, I hit three men over ten minutes, my tree perch killing my thighs.
‘This is Two, men leaving the rear.’
‘Kill them! Three and Four, double-tap bodies to make sure.’
I checked the ground below me, just to be sure, and ten minutes passed, the odd quiet crack heard. I clambered quickly down a vine, adopted my rifle and listened intently, moving towards Four.
‘Come down from the trees. Three and Four, meet me at the
gate, check your fire.’
I heard Four scramble down and land in a heap, soon to me, and we met Three at the gate, the jeeps inspected. Moving inside, the gates closed and bolted behind us, we double tapped any body that appeared less dead, moving along the wall and to a corner of the villa, ducking under the broken front windows. I moved past the open front door, signals swapped, and three smoke grenades went in.
We waited, the smoke wafting out the broken windows, coming out high up the door, but nothing could be heard inside. Silencers off, rifles down, we adopted pistols, spare magazines in hands, and in we went on our bellies, the house dead quiet. I checked the first room as they checked the one opposite, and we advanced – very slowly and very quietly.
The lower level was clear, lights turned on, and we covered each other as we climbed the ornate white marble steps, the villa deathly still and quiet. Each sumptuous room proved empty, underneath beds checked, wardrobes opened, and we drew a blank.
Back downstairs we recovered rifles and called Tomsk, twelve men sat ready and waiting, but they sounded asleep.
By time they arrived we had stacked up eight large suitcases full of cash, a tonne of cocaine, and some jewellery, Tomsk inspecting items.
‘How many men did you kill?’ he asked.
‘There are fifty-six bodies out front, eight at the rear,’ I told him.
‘Sixty four,’ he noted. ‘Excellent work.’
Four put in, ‘And I shat myself when the Army got here.’
‘Army?’ Tomsk repeated, suddenly terrified.
I told him, ‘About sixty soldiers approached, called in, but we hid and kept quiet, and after an hour they drove off, so then we finished the job.’
‘I’m very fucking glad you did not shoot at the soldiers, they would have come for me,’ Tomsk said. ‘Always avoid them.’
‘The man who owned this villa was paying them off,’ I pointed out.
‘We all pay them off,’ Tomsk said with a shrug.
‘You have ten new jeeps to use,’ I said with a smile. ‘Open a car dealership.’
We got back just before dawn, and after a shower I went to bed. At noon, Tomsk found me sat on the balcony, Big Sasha being a dab hand at cooking, and his pancakes were great.
Tomsk placed down a huge wad of cash. ‘A good night’s work.’
‘Hang onto it.’
‘Hang onto it?’ he asked as he sat.
‘What the fuck am I going to do with that?’ I asked. ‘What would I have to spend it on around here, eh?’ I took in the view. ‘Keep a note of what you want to give me, and if I live – do a bank transfer maybe.’
He made a face. ‘As you wish.’
‘How much was in that place?’ I idly asked, pouring my generous host a coffee.
‘Twenty million dollars, and maybe five million in drugs, the jewellery ... I have to get it appraised.’
‘Good haul for you.’
‘You were not tempted by it..?’
I had not taken my eyes off the view. ‘And do what with it? Drink myself to death, fuck a lot of girls, stay in nice hotels?’ I shook my head.
‘You would be bored quickly, yes,’ he said tackling a pancake, men patrolling the lawns below us.
‘I don’t have long to live,’ I casually mentioned.
‘How so?’
‘I have a bullet fragment in my brain, slowly moving. I may live an hour, or a year,’ I lied.
‘Ah, this explains a great deal, and why money is not good to you. What do the doctors say?’
‘That it cannot be removed, and someday ... it will cut an artery. A year ago they gave me three months.’
‘So, you are on borrowed time.’
‘I’ve been on borrowed time for many years.’
‘Rami said you were tortured for many days, but did not talk...’
‘I don’t feel pain as much as I used to, and I don’t fear death,’ I told him, sipping my coffee.
‘The perfect assassin, like those ... Samurai, yes.’
I smiled. ‘They would never talk, and fought to the last.’
‘But there is nothing you want for yourself?’
I considered that, and made a face. ‘I take each day as it comes and ... I have no particular desires. But I like training the men and leading them. I think, in a previous life, I was a soldier.’
‘I have more men coming, they were good soldiers, soon a good team.’
‘We already are a good team,’ I insisted, a finger raised.
‘Yes, sixty men killed by four men; incredible. You can ... hit another villa tonight?’
I sighed, but then smiled.
Bob’s assistant knocked and entered a day later. ‘Some news on Petrov.’
Bob stopped what he was doing and looked up.
His assistant continued, ‘Four men took on sixty-four, and won, claimed another villa, and ... twenty million dollars plus. But that’s not all. A company of Panamanian soldiers went looking for the four men, and couldn’t find them, so went back to barracks.’
‘Who the hell could find Wilco in a jungle,’ Bob stated. ‘His own people can’t find him in a field of mown grass.’
A day later I took my team of four and hit another villa, several hours of sniping wearing down the occupants, RPGs fired through windows, the last few occupants forced out, and RPGs were used because Tomsk did not want this isolated villa.
When the action was over, the villa burning, we hunted around the grounds and found what we were looking for, a tunnel. Explosives were used to blow the metal door, and inside we found another huge haul of cash, but hit a snag.
By time Tomsk arrived we have stacked up twelve tonnes of cocaine, the lads worried.
Tomsk stopped and stared at the cocaine, looking worried himself. ‘That is not theirs.’
‘Whose is it?’ I asked.
‘They are minor players linked to a Colombian group, a big group, so this is theirs.’
‘They’ll know it was you?’ I asked.
‘Yes, and they will come.’
‘Let them, we’ll set a trap,’ I confidently suggested. ‘In the meantime I’ll train the new men.’
Bob sat down with the Director, the lady opening a file, the Home Secretary and several men from the Cabinet Office in on the meeting.
The Home Secretary faced Bob. ‘Perhaps you could explain ... the aim of your operation in Panama.’
‘We saw an opportunity to make use of the Petrov character, which Wilco plays very well. The man he now works for, Tomsk, has in the past sold guns to many groups that we’d rather he not sell guns to, hence our interest, and he first appeared on our radar when guns arrived in the UK by ship, indirectly from Panama.
‘Wilco’s job is to infiltrate and gain intel on their operations, but ... he is playing the character of Petrov, a world class assassin and sniper, so ... he could not refuse to ... use weapons for his employer shall we say. Petrov has been instrumental in assisting Tomsk ... take-out ... much of the local competition.’
‘That’s the part that has us concerned,’ the Home Secretary stated.
‘Wilco is now in their confidence, and as such he’ll get to know the inner workings. The longer he’s there the more we learn, and – when he extracts himself – we’d be able to take down the apparatus most effectively.
‘Fact is, if Tomsk becomes the sole major player in that region then we’re dealing with one target instead of twenty when the time comes. And for the record, the people that have been ... moved aside, were drug running murdering scumbags and their henchmen.’
‘How much has this Tomsk benefitted as a direct result of Wilco’s actions?’ the Home Secretary asked.
Bob glanced at his sheet. ‘An estimated ... two hundred and forty million dollars.’
Those in the room exchanged looks, eyebrows raised.
The Director put in, ‘I think that puts Wilco in the good books of his current employer.’
They laughed, and nodded.
Bob added, ‘Hom
e Secretary, if anything goes wrong then Petrov gets the blame, a known assassin ... and the world’s most wanted man. Here we have an opportunity, a man inside a world we’ve never been able to penetrate before. We could end up with the largest drugs bust in the history of this planet.’
My new recruits were reasonably well trained, all big and tough - but not that fit, so I had Tomsk buy running machines, all of the lads now required to run for an hour a day. New kit arrived, and more kit, and Tomsk ‘hired’ from the regional military commander a deserted jungle base, complete with firing range and assault course.
With a few skilled local workers to hand the base’s old huts were cleaned out, touched up and painted, a few leaks in the roof fixed, the fence repaired, infra-red cameras set-up. A guard room was built, and dog patrols started.
I had the men training like Echo recruits, and since Number Two was a natural he became team leader of the second team. We would now both have seven men under us, two teams of eight. I worked the men hard over seven days, girls brought in at night - and beer, they did not suffer any from the isolation, and I was happy with the progress.
Tomsk arrived the next day with Big Sasha and a dozen bodyguards, and took me to one side. ‘We have news about the Colombians, border guards bribed to let them through tonight.’
I took him to my ‘office’ and showed him a map.
‘Here, this road they’ll take, but that is not certain,’ Tomsk explained.
‘If I take the men out to ambush them, and we miss them...’
He nodded. ‘Yes, a risk, but I don’t want a fucking war raging around here. I’ll sleep in town, a safe-house with a secret passageway and strong room, and I don’t think they want to have people see them.’
‘No, they won’t go into town,’ I agreed. ‘Can you get an Army truck and an escort east?’
‘Only so far, that’s communist territory.’
‘Then we leave soon, time to walk in. But if we hit a communist patrol?’
He made a face. ‘No one gives a fuck about communists, the government here would pat us on the back.’
‘But those communist patrols are often fifty men plus, so we’d get wounded men, and we’d be delayed,’ I pointed out.