Wilco- Lone Wolf 12

by Geoff Wolak

  ‘Well, on-the-job training I guess.’

  Call cut, my phone rang straight away.

  ‘Wilco, it’s Max, you at the dam?’ came a distorted voice.

  ‘Yeah, where are you?’

  ‘Just driving to you with the Foreign Legion.’

  ‘You are? How many of them are coming?’

  ‘About sixty, four trucks, some jeeps.’

  ‘I’ll have Rizzo meet you on the road.’ I called Rizzo quickly. ‘French Foreign Legion on its way in trucks, don’t shoot them, warn the RAF Regiment and Seals.’

  ‘We stay here?’

  ‘Yes, send the Legion down to me.’ I stepped inside. ‘Henri, Jacque, Sambo, to the road, meet the Legion, bring them in. On the double, your slackers!’

  They grabbed kit and ran out mumbling and cursing.

  ‘Legion?’ the Seal captain asked.

  ‘French Foreign Legion from their base, thirty miles away. This is their patch, their job to police this border. They have jurisdiction here.’

  My phone trilled so I stepped out. ‘It’s Sasha. The men below, they are wiring the place to blow.’

  ‘Our presence here is all over the TV news -’

  ‘It is?’ he gasped.

  ‘You don’t know, but we found and underground bunker, old Soviet era, 1967, and a dismantled nuclear bomb.’

  ‘A bomb?’

  ‘No uranium. Yanks on their way to take charge.’

  ‘My god. We stay here?’

  ‘Observe those men for me, stay hidden. How’s Casper?’

  ‘He is talking French with these men, some were Legion, and all ex-Legion are brothers. I have to learn some fucking French!’

  I laughed. ‘Why not, broaden your horizons.’

  Rizzo called me half an hour later, a convoy passing, no shots fired thankfully. We heard the growl of heavy trucks as we started to lose the light, the trucks soon parked – Henri and Sambo hanging onto the sides, Legionnaires soon jumping down, officers approaching – the officers kitted out as if off to war.

  I met those officers with Moran, and I saluted the Legion Major.

  ‘Hello again, Captain,’ he offered.

  We shook.

  ‘Welcome, and I hope you brought wine.’

  He smiled as a civilian neared, the man introduced as DGSE.

  ‘We have jurisdiction here,’ the man unhappily explained.

  ‘You do, but ... your government promised me that we would give the Americans the publicity, and in return the Americans will join our combined counter-terrorism force and loan us helicopters, planes and ships in the Red Sea and Middle East, so you ... you do what the fuck I say, or you explain it to your president.’

  The man took out his phone and stepped away cursing in French. Max appeared, greeted, sent inside for a brew.

  ‘And this bomb?’ the major asked me.

  ‘No uranium. Go have a look, sir.’

  Moran led him off, torches taken out, Max keen to get some snaps.

  Five minutes later my phone trilled. ‘Wilco.’

  ‘Director, DGSE.’

  ‘Evening, sir.’

  ‘There is a question of jurisdiction?’

  ‘No, but I ask that you take my advice, and that the new counter-terrorism team is allowed to prosper.’

  ‘I am aware of it, and we hope to get something later for losing something now..?’

  ‘Just like a new relationship with a beautiful girl – you waste money on dinner and flowers in the hope of something more.’

  He laughed. ‘A good analogy, since I think I am taking it up the arse from the CIA.’

  ‘Now, now, sir, play nice, your government did agree this. Do it as a favour to me, and it was my intel that found the bomb location, you never knew it was here.’

  ‘I will consult with my government, and for now we look the other way, but the government in Mauritania will ask questions.’

  ‘Tell them you’ll let the Americans waste money on cleaning radiation at the site.’

  ‘There is radiation?’

  ‘No, at least I hope not.’

  ‘We’ll talk again in the morning.’

  ‘Oh, did you find the Sarin gas?’

  ‘The ship docked in Athens Pireaus Port, the trucks not found yet.’

  ‘It’s not dangerous, but it will cause panic.’

  ‘Panic causes more harm than actual gas, and maybe they know this.’

  ‘Yes. Goodnight, sir.’

  The Legion started to erect tents, and I walked past those tents, many of the men remembering me and saying hello, a few men stood guard with Famas rifles.

  I tugged at a man’s beard. ‘You’ll get sand in you beard.’

  ‘My wife ... she like it.’

  ‘And your mistress?’

  ‘She likes it too, sir.’

  I cocked an eyebrow at him and smiled.

  Back at the concrete building, now very busy, the Legion major complained, ‘That bomb is just old rusted metal.’

  ‘In 1967 it was top technology,’ I pointed out.

  ‘Men come with Geiger counters?’

  ‘On their way, sir.’

  ‘It is damp squid,’ he complained, and he headed off to a tent.

  Max came and found me, wanting the details, so I stood and told him what to print ... over fifteen minutes. He knew it was contrived, but he didn’t care, we were making his career.

  The Seal Captain approached, phone in hand. ‘Just had the Admiral on the line, so I gave him the situation report, and he was damn pleased at the publicity ... and confused as hell as to how we got the damn tasking without his say so. He’s going to chew out some people in the Pentagon.’

  ‘Why, you got the publicity?’

  ‘There’s a chain of command.’

  ‘So I heard...’

  When my phone trilled it was Tinker. I stood outside, Wolves coming in to cook in pairs and to top up water. ‘What you got for me?’

  ‘We had a brain storming session, looked at the map, and the closest and best target is a new gold mine, sixty miles inside Mali, eighty miles from you, could prove to be the largest gold reserves in Mali, one of the largest in Africa, and that same French company has a 40% stake.’

  ‘I don’t think they want to attack their own mine, so someone else wants to attack them.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Have London contact the government in Mali and tell them we’ll send men, and send a note from me to the Director that I’d like to send men and catch these bad boys.’

  ‘I’ll send a note now.’

  I called Leon in a hurry. ‘It’s Petrov.’

  ‘Ah, we found a link with a middle manager, looks like he’s been taking money, to what ends we don’t know yet.’

  ‘I think I do, I think they want to hurt your business interests, the Nigerians.’

  He sighed. ‘They were not pleased that Izillien’s death passed me his businesses. Some probably think I killed him.’

  ‘If they knew your relationship with Casper they’d be certain of it!’

  ‘Yes, a risk.’

  ‘We think they’ll attack your gold mine in Western Mali, I’ve asked London if I can send men.’

  ‘Hard to damage an open-cast mine!’

  ‘But staff can be killed, buildings burnt down.’

  ‘Indeed. I’ll tighten up on security there.’

  ‘We might get a lead, and go get the paymaster, and that will put an end to it. Talk soon.’

  I had to think about what I had just said, realised that I had not asked Casper, and called him in a hurry. ‘Listen, who paid you to kill Izillien?’

  ‘No one.’

  ‘No one?’

  ‘I ... heard that he was attacking mines owned by Leon.’

  ‘You did something nice ... for Leon?’

  ‘Fuck off.’

  ‘Now you can do something else that’s nice. Go down to that camp, left side, west, get position and shoot the fucks, run to the road, shoot any fuck
leaving, but at distance.’

  ‘OK, we know where they sleep and the layout.’

  ‘Don’t get close, they’ll blow it!’

  ‘Yes Mother.’

  Smiling, I called Leon. ‘It’s Petrov. And you’ll be proud of Casper.’

  ‘I will? Why?’

  ‘He killed Izillien without being paid, after he found out Izillien was attacking your mines.’

  ‘He did it ... for me?’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘My god, there is a light on in his soul after all. I need to sit down before I fall down.’

  Laughing, I hung up. Turning, I could see too many men bunched up. I grabbed Henri, and he would re-locate 1st Battalion west a thousand yards, beyond the north road. There was a cluster of small trees for them to use.

  Calling in Crab and Duffy, and the senior NCO for the American Wolves, I had them re-locate north to the rocks, and to watch the north and east.

  The reminder of French Echo I sent east a mile or more, to where the hills met the river, Robby and his last few men, plus the Salties, up to the hills where Sasha had been, Mitch to go with them.

  With the large concrete room quieter, I grabbed our prisoner and slammed him against the wall. ‘What did you expect to find here, since I don’t think you expected a working bomb, nor would you be stupid enough to try and sell one afterwards.’

  He stared back.

  ‘Americans will be here in the morning, a ride out for you if I say so. And what do you know about a French gold mine eighty miles southeast, in Mali?’

  That last part surprised him.

  ‘Yes, we know, and the name Peter Bowles - as well as your photo, is all over the TV news worldwide as we speak.’

  He shrunk, deflated, and sighed. ‘I made contact with the Nigerians, men I had met in a hotel in Lagos. They got me girls and cocaine, had a chat, and years later I got back in touch. When I got the detail of the Soviet bunker I used it, lied a little, but they wanted to buy the exploration data – so they trusted me.

  ‘I heard about blood diamonds hidden here from a security consult, a Russian, I got him drunk, but didn’t mention that to the Nigerians -’

  ‘You were going to screw with people like the Nigerians?’

  He sighed and nodded. ‘I figured I could have a look around, find the diamonds, and explain away the bunker – not my fault.’

  ‘You are a greedy man, I’ll give you that, you wanted it all. So what went wrong?’

  ‘Nothing. I got here, came over, started looking, but then the gunmen got a call, tied me up and told me to wait, someone was coming.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘Today, this morning.’

  ‘I think we shot the guy. And how’d you find blood diamonds hidden here? It’s a big fucking place.’

  ‘There’s supposed to be a cave -’

  ‘There are lots of caves, a mile away in those hills.’

  ‘Ah...’

  ‘Tell me about the hit on the mine in Mali?’

  ‘They asked me to get a job there, inside man for a while.’

  ‘You’re in oil, not gold!’

  ‘I’m a geologist, well qualified, and it’s all related.’

  ‘So there’s no hit planned on that mine?’

  ‘Not yet.’

  ‘Do the Nigerians have the survey data?’ I asked.

  ‘Not yet, I just gave them a small sample.’

  ‘Wise and prudent ... when dealing with Nigerians.’

  ‘I ... wanted to say sorry to you.’

  My brow furrowed. ‘What the fuck for?’

  ‘I read the book, The Ghost, and meeting you like this ... well, I feel ashamed now.’

  ‘So you should, I risked my men for nothing. But ... no one hurt, so far. Oh, what’s your link to this French mining company? You were going to sell the survey data to someone there?’

  ‘Henri Pascat, he’s working for the Nigerians, undercover.’

  ‘Ah. Sit, relax. And ... thanks, you may have saved a few lives by opening up.’

  Outside, I called Leon. ‘It’s Petrov. A man who works for you, Henri Pascat, he’s secretly working for the Nigerians, deal with him fast.’

  ‘That name was mentioned today. I’ll deal with it. And thanks.’

  Next call was London, and I gave them the story.

  My phone trilled as I was sat on the roof having a cuppa with the Seals.

  Robby began, ‘There’re explosions and blasts down in that camp!’

  ‘Sasha and his team are on the west side, plus the French, sniping at them. The men in the camp were seen wiring it to blow, our lads know not to approach. Standby to assist, try and get them on the radio or the phone.’

  Off the phone, the Seals were curious. I explained to their dark outlines, ‘Men in the camp over the hill were seen wiring it to blow, so we’d not have gone in. We’re now hassling them from the side, so they thought it an assault and blew a few buildings.’

  ‘Were we going to assault it?’

  ‘Not without eyes-on first,’ I assured them. ‘I put men up on the hill, and they saw what was going on below.’

  Men started running about below, and the French Major came and found me. ‘Captain, we go, our base was hit by rockets.’

  ‘Rockets?’ I queried as I stood, the Seals standing.

  ‘Many huts destroyed. If the men were not here ... we have dead men. Now we have five injured, not so bad.’

  ‘Those rockets have a five mile range, but they need roads, the rockets will be on a truck. Have men in trucks speeding down the roads, look for other trucks. Go fast!’

  He ran down the steps.

  ‘Get below!’ I shouted. ‘Incoming! Get to cover!’

  A mad scramble followed, men rushing down the steps. I remained on the roof, and called Crab, warning him before I called Rizzo as the Legion mounted up and sped off – leaving their tents. Rizzo would have the men in shell scrapes dig down.

  Moran came up to me and asked, ‘Whose fucking rockets are they?’

  ‘Same Nigerian fucker as last year, at least his buddy,’ I said. ‘Temper tantrum. Sasha hit that camp from distance, the men inside blew it, so this is the reaction, maybe a reaction to the news.’

  The Seal captain was stood lower down on the steps still. ‘What kind of rockets?’

  ‘Small, like the Palestinians lob at the Israelis. But this building is solid.’

  People settled down, but ten minutes later we heard the rumble, rockets landing between us and the hills. I got up to the top of the steps with Moran and Swifty, Max squeezing past, and five minutes later three flashes east caught our attention, the blasts reaching us a few seconds later.

  Moran said, ‘They’re firing from five miles away. Beyond the town maybe.’

  The next salvo landed east of the Wolves. I called Crab. ‘You lot OK?’

  ‘We’re in the rocks, solid cover. Who’ve we upset?’

  ‘Nigerians.’

  ‘Those fuckers.’

  ‘Shout if you have wounded.’

  The Seal Captain came up behind us. ‘We staying here?’ he gruffly asked.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Those rockets are getting closer.’

  ‘Pick a direction and tell me it’s safe.’ I waited. ‘You’re better off in here, and I’m not risking a plane damaged or destroyed.’

  ‘And the plan?’ his dark outline tersely asked.

  ‘The idiot out there wants to lob expensive rockets at the sand. Fine, let him, he’ll be out of pocket tomorrow. And those rocket launchers could be seven miles away. Not like we could go after them.’

  My phone trilled.

  ‘It’s Casper, we have a prisoner.’

  ‘Prisoner? Who is he?’

  ‘He was the boss in that camp, caught him driving off.’

  ‘Good work. Robby is on the hill top, check your fire, and we have rockets coming in.’ Phone away, I told them, ‘Casper grabbed
the man in charge over there.’

  Twenty minutes later three bright flashes registered, well south of us, the blasts heard many seconds later.

  ‘Crap fucking aim,’ Max complained.

  Swifty slapped Max on the head lightly. ‘You keen to get some close-up action, Crazy Fucker?’

  ‘No, just saying, that’s crap aim,’ he responded, making us laugh.

  Swifty began, ‘Back in my day the terrorists could fire rockets accurately.’

  ‘Standards have slipped,’ Moran suggested.

  ‘I blame the schools,’ I told them.

  ‘Yeah,’ Swifty agreed. ‘What they teaching them in school these days? Back in my day basic rocket aiming was standard for 11-13 year olds.’

  ‘You try telling the parents,’ Moran began, ‘and they just don’t listen.’

  ‘No,’ the three of us sighed, Max laughing.

  My phone trilled. ‘It’s Robby, Russians with us now, and the prisoner – who offered me a million quid to release him.’

  ‘Were you tempted?’

  ‘Well, I asked if he had it on him. Hang on ... plane coming in.’

  ‘Shit!’ Phone away, I shouted, ‘Get below, on me.’ I carefully negotiated the dark steps. ‘Everyone, grab your kit, quickly, run, outside, on me!’ I hit the sand. ‘Run you fuckers, run! Grab the prisoner! Move it!’

  Outside, I screamed at their dark outlines - to run along the concrete road past the tents, soon seeing the nurses with a man in white shirt, and we only had one man in a white shirt, men now running with kit.

  ‘Captain Moran, get them a thousand yards away!’ I ran back in, still a few Seals getting kit on. ‘Run you fuckers! Now!’

  As they passed I checked the room and ran after them, chasing after dark outlines. ‘Keep running!’

  We were all puffing as the drone grew. I finally stopped and looked back, seeing an An12 coming in low. ‘Get down! Hit the deck! Snipers, hit that fucking plane!’

  I knelt and got ready, wondering if the An12 would get within a thousand yards of us. Behind me, I heard weapons click.

  The flash turned night into day - even the An12 illustrated above, the flash coming from behind the building, perhaps a hundred yards behind it. The blast hit us, and I fell backwards. Shaking it off, I eased up, not seeing the building for the smoke. I aimed up, judged the speed of the An12, and fired off several long bursts.

  Blasts sounded out, the Elephant guns, the An12 passing close to us, north four hundred yards, but down at 500ft in my estimation. A hell of a cackle came from behind me, most everyone firing out, my phone trilling during the melee, but I ignored it and kept firing.