by Geoff Wolak
‘OK, things have changed a little,’ I began. ‘The RAF whinged that they’re not on this job, so they’re now sending Hercules and RAF Regiment, our rescue force per se, but they’ll not leave Kenya. Still, Max, some good exposure please. Our RAF Regiment externals will be there, probably the Pathfinders, so ... in effect ... we do have a credible force to come get us if we need it.’
‘Better that way,’ Moran suggested. ‘Something always goes wrong, always a change of plan.’
I nodded. ‘So, we now have an opportunity, in that we could drop from a Hercules - they will let us overfly and drop. And if need be, some accident or our plane is fucked, we get a Hercules to pick up hostages.’
‘Better all round,’ Mahoney commended.
I focused on Max, an idea in my head. ‘Max, this is top secret, but we’ll try and grab Colonel Roach and bring him back for trial.’
‘Excellent,’ Max enthused. ‘Be a huge story. Can I ... kick him a few times?’
The lads laughed.
‘Some questions of legality,’ I told him. ‘Snatching someone. But the Congo Government has given the go ahead apparently. Intel thinks they know where he is, and if we find him we bring him back, but that’s secondary to the hostages – who are just down the road from him.’
‘Do we still need to please the Ugandans?’ Moran asked.
‘No, so fuck ‘em,’ I replied.
‘One less hassle,’ Moran noted, others nodding.
‘OK, so the plan is ... as it stands. We fly down to Kenya, to the usual training ground, looking like a regular posting. We then fly in our hired Skyvan to a small airfield in Tanzania, which could be our base, but the Tanzanians don’t want people seen with guns – so a bit of a problem. We can at least refuel and go on.
‘Problem is numbers. Fourteen to move in. There is, however, a second plane, and an Mi8 will be flown in for us, to use once there if we want to. According to Intel there’s a friendly rebel group, cash in hand, aviation fuel to hand.’
‘We fly in two groups,’ Moran suggested.
I nodded. ‘And with chutes on, just in case. I don’t trust these aircraft.’ I glanced at the map. ‘OK, there is a dirt strip – or twenty, close enough to the hostages. I’ll get intel on which ones are quiet. There are also roads, and at 4am they’ll be quiet. But the plan is an operational HALO insert - extraction by fixed-wing aircraft. Drop will be three teams of four, kit in bags.’
‘How many bags?’ Moran asked.
‘Three.’
‘That’s one drop, what about other drops?’
‘I’m hoping we can make some bags up when we get down there, it’s not complicated. And we have the extra bag chutes and altimeters.’
Mahoney began, ‘Up the road is some construction, and they have strong bags just like our shapes, full of gravel.’
‘Go pinch some later, we’ll have a look, take them along.’
Mally asked, ‘Am I down for the HALO drop?’
‘No, you’d travel in with our guide, Sandra, maybe a different route. Sasha with you. And if you have any input, let us know.’
Mally began, ‘Problems you face change with the damn seasons. Groups form up, fight, disband, next group forms up. If you time it wrong then you go head to head with three hundred well-armed motivated men. A month later they’re all heading off home again.’
‘Intel doesn’t have any large groups for us to worry about, just fragments,’ I informed him. ‘But I appreciate what you’re saying, the groups are fluid.’
‘And the rain is an issue,’ Mally added. ‘Map shows a stream, and it is, but after the rain its ten feet high and moving fast, and next morning it’s a stream again. Trick is to know the weather up stream, not where you are.’
‘Good point, I’ll have Intel watch the weather for us. OK, meeting here at 10am tomorrow, everyone, we’re off on Sunday, no booze on Saturday. Jungle kit, same as Sierra Leone, but we have some folding stock AK47s coming as well. I was going to use them till we get the HALO bags sorted.’
I took the map to the house, and placed it on the kitchen table, studying it; the area close to the hostages, the Russians ... and Roach. How would I approach the Russians? As Petrov perhaps, but there was a reward on my head.
Sasha came and sat with me. ‘You have the plan?’
‘It’s fluid, but not difficult. They’re not well armed, not well prepared; this is showmanship and newspaper headlines. And with good headlines we get what we want, for when we’re really needed.’
‘You see these things clearly, and play them at their own game,’ he noted.
‘Are you ready to risk your life at my side again?’ I teased.
‘It will be like old times, but hopefully with no missiles coming towards us. That moment I see in my mind when I sleep, and the fear when you pushed me out. The others all died?’
‘Tomsk never got anyone near the crashed helicopter, but the Panama soldiers said they buried two pilots and six men.’
Sasha nodded, saddened. ‘If we had got those missiles earlier…’
I eased back and stretched my back. ‘When we moved into the towns I almost forgot myself,’ I began, staring out of focus. ‘We killed street drug dealers and gunmen, but ... but we did that town a favour, we removed the shit from their streets. I could have stayed in Panama forever, sat in a tree and shooting gunmen.’
He smiled. ‘Clean away the surface of this Earth and start again.’
‘There are good people out there, my friend, Sandra is one example.’
‘She had a difficult childhood I heard.’
I nodded. ‘Gang-raped repeatedly.’
‘But she is not crazy, so she is strong in her mind. I will not worry about her when we are there.’
‘How’s your training been?’
‘I am better, I run better, and I have many days shooting the rifle and the pistol, and I drive these Land Rovers. I am not as good as before, but ... close.’
‘Close is good enough,’ I said with an encouraging smile.
In the morning, Para Pete turned up, boxes in his car. ‘Just got the delivery for you, oxygen.’
‘We may not need them, we’d go in at 14,000ft,’ I said as we unloaded boxes into the briefing room. ‘And we’d need it sent by Hercules, not on a civil airliner.’
‘You’ll pay for them though?’ he asked, now worried.
‘Yes, don’t worry.’
As he stepped out to his car, he got a call on his mobile, and his face dropped. He waved me to one side, checking over his shoulder. ‘Your chutes, the one’s ready for this job, some have been tampered with.’
I stared past him as men moved around. ‘Tell no one, not a word, have them delivered as normal, pretend they’re OK, we won’t use them. Who found them?’
‘My girl, Sue. She noticed something odd, and then found a window forced.’
‘No police, Intel will deal with it. Offer that girl a few quid, be insistent, not a word.’
He nodded, and called his girl back.
I called Bob. ‘Listen, we have a problem. No one knows yet, but our chutes were tampered with.’
‘What!’ Bob hissed.
‘At the Cirencester para school. Get someone there, no police, they know not to call the police. They’ll deliver the chutes as normal, we’ll take them, save alerting whoever this is.’
‘Anyone you suspect?’
‘Could Roach know we’re coming, some “E” Squadron old wanker blabbing?’
‘Possible.’
‘Then we play them at their own game. In the meantime, I need some chutes. They’re French, Marseilles company, get the details off Pete at the para school, order some up for Kenya. And start figuring out who did this. If you start with ex-SAS, it’ll narrow your scope. And tighten up on security in Kenya.’
‘When I find that man...’ He rung off.
After the meeting - plans made and kit discussed, Pete brought the chutes, all in plastic bags and boxed up. ‘Those in black plastic are
... you know, rest look OK.’
‘I have more on order. Keep it dead quiet, Intel are investigating.’
‘Be careful out there,’ he offered.
‘We need to be careful around here more than out there!’
When the Major turned up, in civvy clothes, I took him to one side. ‘This is top secret, sir, you can’t say anything to anyone.’ I checked over my shoulder. ‘Our parachutes were tampered with last night.’
‘What!’ he hissed.
I nodded. ‘If someone had done that a few days earlier, we’d be down a few men.’
‘Christ. Any clues?’
‘Ex-SAS, in touch with Roach, only explanation.’
He checked over his shoulder. ‘If he knows you’re coming..?’
‘I have an ace in the hole where he’s concerned. And no one knows about the hostages. I haven’t told anyone which hostages we’re going for – and I’m not sure which groups we’d hit anyhow.’
He blew out. ‘Bloody hell.’
‘Carry a pistol, sir, keep alert, check your car.’
He nodded.
‘And act natural, or someone may know we’re onto him.’
He stared at me. ‘Someone on this base?’
‘If Roach offered £100,000 to one of our “E” Squadron old timers..?’
He considered that. ‘A hell of a temptation, yes. They could retire to Spain and open a bar!’
‘Act normal around them, Bob’s people are investigating, and he’s mad as hell. There’ll be no prison for this guy, whoever he is.’
I took MP Peter to one side. ‘We have Intel, someone on this base chatting to bad-boy mercenaries in the Congo. They’ve taken money and sold us out, a warm welcome planned.’
He looked over my shoulder. ‘You know who?’
I shook my head. ‘Stay sharp, tip off the others, but not a word to anyone else, it could be anyone – even the old caretaker. Bring in two extra men, any pretext, roving patrols well armed, always a man stood near the hangar, and keep an eye on my Lone Wolves in their barracks and when they’re training.’
‘Are the civvy police investigating?’
‘Intel is. This guy won’t go to prison. And if I was to make a bet, I’d bet on the old “E” Squadron men.’
‘In their new Portakabin.’ He nodded. ‘I’ll keep an eye on them.’
I found Nicholson. ‘This is for your ears only. We suspect that one of the old “E” Squadron men has sold us out, tipped off the bad boys in the Congo for cash. If any wander into the barracks, or take an interest, be suspicious, be ready, but say nothing to anyone, not even Tomo and Smitty. You I trust to not accidentally blab.’
‘I’m on it, Boss.’
‘If you see something very naughty, and you have to kill, do so. MPs know about it, so too the Major, no one else, keep it that way.’
A short while later Mally drove in. He stopped near me as I chatted to some of the Wolves that were staying the weekend.
‘Someone stole my fucking car,’ he shouted out his window, now driving what looked like a lady’s car, bright red and new.
With Mally at his Portakabin, a few other cars parked there, I dialled Bob. ‘Listen, Mally had his car stolen. Check exactly where he was last night, speed cameras, and that stolen car story.’
‘He’s going with you, and parachuting in!’
‘I told him yesterday that he’d not go in by chute, but with Sandra.’
‘I see.’ After a while came, ‘I’ll look into that now. You suspect him?’
‘Everyone’s a suspect, Bob, money buys friends. Check Mally’s finances. And given that we’re taking him, work fast.’
‘We check their finances often, they know that. It would have to be a cash payment or offshore.’
‘And his financial state?’
‘Dire. Ex-wife bleeding him dry.’
‘So he could use some money. Be quick, Bob.’
I checked my own kit several times and stacked it ready in my house before meeting the gang in the Stores area, kit being checked and cleaned, metal crates being loaded, the area bustling.
‘What do you think?’ Mahoney called, and I stepped over to him. He had three grey bags, “Masons Builders” on the side, and they were about the right size, four large handles. ‘Material is tough as fuck, will hold tonnes of gravel.’
I nodded. ‘Find some sacking, or some blankets.’
‘We grabbed blankets, caretaker had a store,’ Moran put in.
‘And plastic bags in case it hits a ditch,’ I said. ‘Need to sew up the top, or close it, attach the chute.’
‘Not much jerk-force when the chute opens,’ Mahoney said. ‘Depends on what we put in it.’
‘Enough for three days,’ I said.
‘That ain’t much,’ he noted. ‘Four men, three days.’
‘When we get to Kenya we’ll get the local technicians helping out,’ I offered.
An idea hit me, and I stepped away, phone out, the Air Commodore called at home.
‘Wilco, my dear,’ his wife began, and we chatted for five minutes.
‘Wilco, my boy,’ came the Air Commodore finally. ‘Something urgent?’
‘I need some parachute packers.’
‘There are plenty in Kenya.’
‘I need two experts, best there is, sent out.’
‘OK, that I can do, they’d love a holiday. Parachute packers in this country are civvies, with our RAF NCOs supervising them.’
‘I need them there quickly, sir.’
‘Leave it with me, but there are some good people down there.’
He called me back fifteen minutes later. ‘No need to send anyone, two of our best instructors are out there, training people.’
‘Then warn them I’ll need some of their time, sir.’
‘Will do.’
Bob called me back an hour later, as crates were loaded to three-tonne lorries. ‘Mally’s stolen car triggered a speed camera near Cirencester. Found burnt out near Hereford.’
‘The plot thickens.’
‘Police say the photo has two people in the car, male, rear view, nothing useful.’
‘His whereabouts?’
‘I had O’Leary chat to him on the pretext of a drunken fight allegation near where he lives. According to Mally he was down in Newport with mates till late. We’re checking that story, and CCTV.’
‘Could have still got to Cirencester later on. That stolen car story is suspicious.’
‘Have you discussed him with the team?’
‘No. The Major knows, the MPs, and Nicholson is watching the Lone Wolves in case someone goes for them.’
‘You’re worried that someone might attack the Lone Wolves?’
‘If I was a washed-up old timer I’d be jealous as hell about the new young blood replacing me.’
‘Well ... yes, good point.’
‘There are extra MPs on the way, make up some threat from the IRA or something.’
‘Will do. I’ll get back to you.’
Teams were still in the hangar at 6pm, everything checked and re-checked, ideas bounced around, ammo boxed up, Bongo kept busy.
I made sure that we had rifles for the Externals, and the twelve folding-stock AK47s would be coming with us anyhow, extra pistols, extra flysheets.
We had three helmets each, and were breaking a few rules because these were American lightweight helmets and not allowed for parachute use – not even in the States. Some of the lads even suggested that they were not necessary, we’d land soft or the job was aborted.
Wrist altimeters would be taken, along with our precious tone altimeters, and we’d bring them back. The oxygen kits had been sent to Lyneham, but then we were told that the tanks had been emptied and that they would be filled in Kenya, the kits to be sent on our Tristar – valves open and tested.
Swifty stood next to me with Moran as we peered down at leftover kit. ‘How about ... regular radio in one ear, tone altimeter in the other, someone calls it and counts?’
‘And we jump with what on us?’ Moran posed.
I listed off, ‘Pistol in holster, spare mags, map, compass, water bottle maybe, small first aid kit ... and cammo mask, and cammo gloves worn.’
‘Could wear the masks,’ Swifty put in. ‘Helmet on top.’
I nodded. ‘Could strap something to ankles, just in case. We’ll have sat phones, some of us.’
‘Leg pocket,’ Moran suggested.
‘If it’s a fuck-up we call in the Mi8, or we steal a truck at gunpoint and drive somewhere the plane can come in.’
‘Weather permitting,’ Swifty put in.
‘That Skyvan could land in a storm,’ I firmly suggested. ‘Mi8 will operate in a storm.’
The Major stepped out the Portakabin and closed in. ‘Spoke to my opposite number in Kenya, Major Chalmers “A” Squadron, I know the chap well, and he’ll have huts ready, armed guard, he knows the drill. You’ll be set away from the other British soldiers out there.
‘His men have been there six weeks, so up for some action if you need a hand. And they have kit, jeeps, parachutes and the like.’
‘Good. So all we need now is some good weather ... and some luck,’ I loudly stated, people exchanging looks.
At 7pm we all ate in the canteen, items of kit still being discussed, a few “E” Squadron men eating with Mally, and making me wary.
At 9pm, sat watching TV with Sasha and Swifty, my phone trilled and I stepped out, avoiding snails on my garden path. ‘Wilco.’
‘It’s Bob. Mally’s story just about checks out, but there’s no knowing what he did after supposedly going to bed. I have a forensic team there now, might get lucky.’
‘Mally has a mobile phone, track it.’
‘We did, it was switched off all night.’
‘Most people leave them on.’
‘Agreed. As it stands he’s the number one suspect, with an accomplice, so he should stay behind.’
‘No. If you find solid evidence then he meets with an accident, no trial. Besides, if you take him off then Roach knows we’re onto him. So far he thinks he’s ahead.’