Wilco- Lone Wolf 19 Read online

  Wilco:

  Lone Wolf

  Book 19

  Copyright © Geoff Wolak

  Started January, 2014

  This book is historically very accurate in places, technically correct for the most part, yet it is fiction, really fiction, definitely fiction, and any similarity to real people or real events – although accidental - is probably intentional. Some characters in this book may be based on some of the wankers I have either worked with or unfortunately met over the years.

  Email the author: [email protected]

  www.geoffwolak-writing.com

  Sex and drugs

  I woke with an erection, and not just because I needed to pee. The erection had come from a dream about Salome and myself being trapped in a cave, no clothes on in this cave for some reason, and I had been dragging her around by the hair before we had sex.

  So it was a caveman and cavewoman dream for some odd reason. When I stopped to consider her attitude, it fitted, and I smiled as I eased out of bed, willing the erection to go down or peeing would be tricky.

  After a steady run around the track in damn cold air, my erection thankfully down, I enjoyed a hot shower, Swifty stirring, and we walked to the canteen together fifteen minutes later, civvy clothes on and wrapped up warm, collars turned up.

  A few of the CT police were in, two British Wolves up early for some reason, Sambo and Sasha sat chatting. I grabbed a plate full and sat near Sasha, Rocko stepping in a getting some food, our Sergeant Major on the ball – he had already done the rounds and checked on security.

  ‘Rocko,’ I called. ‘Today is Tuesday, so go tell everyone that they can take the rest of the week off after kit is checked. But the Wolves need to chat to Sanderson first, he decides, same for 14 Intel, they check with Sanderson.’

  ‘I’ll chat to him soon,’ he promised. ‘No bad wounds for our lot I hear.’

  ‘No limbs lost. Yanks lost a few men, some nasty wounds.’

  Walking up to the hangar I had expected to meet the Major, and I paused, a glance at the gate; I missed him being here, and I missed the stability he offered.

  Billy was in, my new substitute father figure for Bradley, and so I sat and started to go through forms, and the list of minor injuries. Over a cup of tea we chatted about Yemen, what went right and what went wrong - and what else could have gone wrong.

  Moran joined us at 11am, less than fresh, but promised to get some forms filled, stores kit checked. I took Billy to the pub at 12.30 and we found it quiet, a few locals, so we sat and had lunch whilst I filled him on the Yemen campaign. As a young trooper he had fought there.

  Back at my house, two hours later, Swifty was packing up his car.

  ‘You leaving us?’ I teased.

  He stepped around to me, and he looked uncomfortable with something. ‘My uncle died a few weeks back, we were never close – he was a twat, but his wife died as well and the house ownership moves to my mum, but…’

  ‘You said your mum has dementia...’

  He nodded, put his hands in his pockets to stay warm, and took in the airfield. ‘Been kinda putting it off, but I have to have her sectioned, or whatever they call it. She’s started to walk down the street in her night dress.’

  ‘Were you close to your mum?’

  He pulled a face. ‘Left when I was seventeen, joined the RAF Regiment, visited two or three times a year, so not close really.’

  ‘I can pull a few strings if you need help...’

  ‘I’ll see when I get there, but she had a visit from some social worker who said that she would be put in a home, so I think the local council is doing something without me.’

  ‘You’ll sell the house?’

  He shot me a look. ‘Yeah, to pay for the damn nursing home; they don’t offer free places if you own a house!’

  ‘That’s your inheritance down the pan then,’ I noted. ‘Unless your uncle’s house is worth a few quid.’

  ‘Never figured on living long enough to collect it!’ he said as he jumped in. He was soon out the gate.

  I had just opened my door when a toot had me turn, Tiny pulling up. She jumped out with a beaming smile. ‘Right, Boss.’ She walked over and rudely nudged me inside. I got the kettle on as she rudely had a nose around. ‘Very basic, given where you could be living.’

  ‘Living with Tomsk in the sunshine?’

  ‘Or somewhere nice and warm, pool, a dozen girls in bikinis running around…’

  I nodded at her, and sized her up. I had long considered sex with her – since Jamaica mostly, but had dismissed the idea, but I had also considered testing her loyalty … and whether or not she could be someone to work with Bob Staines off the record.

  ‘What?’ she puzzled.

  ‘Remember what I told you, about always following my orders.’

  ‘Yes..?’

  ‘Sit.’

  She sat.

  After a moment’s further thought on the issue, I unzipped and pulled out my cock and balls, getting very stiff very quickly.

  She smiled, and cocked an eyebrow at me. ‘Boss..?’

  ‘Are you … questioning me?’

  ‘No, Boss,’ she adamantly stated, a hand on my cock.

  I held the back of her head and moved my cock in, and she swallowed half the length without a word, soon working up and down the shaft and giggling a little.

  ‘Nice stiff cock,’ she commended.

  ‘Don’t talk with your mouth full,’ I chided her.

  She got back to it, a great technique, and a spirited effort. Two minutes later and I came in her mouth to a loud moan, both from her and from me, and she kept going, not a drop spilt.

  I finally pulled away and put my stiff cock away.

  ‘I’m not questioning your orders, Boss, but … why now?’

  ‘A test.’

  ‘Test?’

  ‘You just gave the boss, that famous guy, a blowjob, so the temptation will be great to tell people. And if you tell anyone, anyone at all, you’re gone from here and will never work for Intel.’

  ‘I don’t blab,’ she assured me, wiping her mouth.

  ‘We’ll see. If anyone makes a comment about us, I’ll know that you can’t tackle undercover jobs for me.’

  ‘I’ll bet you fifty thousand American dollars that the secret stays with us.’

  ‘Fifty grand? You little thief, you.’

  She smiled widely. ‘The money won’t be missed by dead men or men in prison, now will it?’

  ‘No, so you enjoy it, girl, take a holiday. Find a nice man.’

  ‘What about you?’

  ‘What about me?’

  ‘You’re single and available,’ she said with a coy smile. ‘And now we’re practically married.’

  ‘I could never trust you, and – don’t take this the wrong way – but I don’t know where you’ve been.’

  She lost her smile. ‘Not had a cock inside me in two years, and then an officer. It’s all a front, that and my willingness to give blowjobs, but screwing … that’s personal, and I don’t, and haven’t for two years. I give men blowjobs to satisfy them, and to keep them away from more intimate moments.’

  ‘I had wondered ... what the real you was like.’

  ‘Do I seem soft, for spy work?’

  ‘No. We all have issues. Stand.’ She stood. ‘Drop your trousers and knickers.’ She did after a moment’s hesitation.

  I lifted her onto the table and lay her on her back, her knees wide, my head inside her legs, and my tongue hitting her pussy was like an electric shock to her. After removing a small piece of toilet paper I made her breathe quickly, then moan, a finger in the little pink slit when I judged it right, a loud moan issued, and she came quickly.

  I kept the finger going
but left the clit alone, lifting her t-shirt to suck on the nipples for a minute.

  Lighting her up, and down onto the floor in one movement, she pulled up her pants and jeans. I told her, washing my finger in the sink, ‘We’re even. And for the record, I don’t do that very often, maybe once every year – or two.’

  ‘I'm honoured then.’ She stood on the chair, grabbed me and kissed me, and it felt good, it felt very good, but it was also a worry. Easing back, she asked, ‘You and Salome?’

  ‘She wants to shag my bones, but more to save her career than anything else. And it would make working with her hard.’

  ‘And working with me now?’

  I grabbed her around the waist and eased her down. ‘If you’re killed it will affect me, yes. So we won’t be having weekend breaks away, I’d start to care.’

  She stared up at me. ‘But we could fool around now and then..? Just platonic. Boss.’

  ‘Maybe. We’ll see how we react each other around the base. Anyhow, how was Miami?’

  We sat with brews made and she gave me the detail over half an hour.

  I told her. ‘When you have a meet arranged, get there early and watch the street, see if an ambush is being set up. In your case, a man could just put you over his shoulder and carry you off, no need for a sniper, but as a general rule, get a hotel room overlooking the meet area, watch it, and when the mark arrives you rush down, sure that he’s alone.’

  She nodded. ‘Next time,’ she assured me. She giggled. ‘I have a small pink dildo, and I took out the batteries and have a folding knife; I can take it out in the ladies. I turn up in a tight dress, small purse, and they can see I don’t have a weapon.

  ‘And I have a tampon with a .22 single shot inside. You stab them with it and it goes off.’

  ‘Good thinking, girl, you’re becoming a pro.’

  ‘And you’ll recommend me to Mi6?’

  ‘If they ask, and if you apply, but you’ll see more action with me. Spy work not soldiering. Don’t apply for Mi6, let them come ask you – after you shine on a few jobs and show us all how good you are.’

  She left after reaching up and kissing me, and now I would worry about her safety, and about it getting out.

  Sat in alone that evening, thinking, I had a choice to make, and so I called Cecilia. ‘Hey, it’s … Wilco.’

  ‘I figured you might call after a week, maybe two, or not at all.’

  ‘If I was to see you, would … would you discuss me with Trish?’

  ‘Do you … want to avoid that?’

  ‘I think so, I’m not sure how I feel about her. It still hurts.’

  ‘I told her I met you in Oman, was kind of hard not to, but I’ve not added to it, just that we spoke briefly. If you ask me not to say anything … then I can keep it a secret.’

  ‘Keep it a secret anyway, or people will try and kill you for knowing me.’

  ‘Well, there is that as well yes, a worry. Mister and Misses Smith. I’ll read some spy novels.’

  ‘Where are you?’

  ‘With family, near Cambridge, but I have a cottage not far from Brize Norton. It was rented out when I rotated to Scotland, but they’ve left, so it’s empty.’

  ‘When will you be there?’

  ‘I could head there tomorrow, but don’t come till I clean it and buy a few things, warm it up.’

  ‘Thursday then. Call me on this number when it has a warm feeling, I’m fifteen minutes away.’

  ‘Thursday.’

  The next day, Wednesday, I headed up to London with MP Pete, a debrief in Vauxhall, then a visit to the MOD building and a debrief for the Defence Minister, but they had no shitty questions for me, pleased with the publicity, concerns over the Saudi element.

  Driving back, Cecilia called. I glanced at Pete. ‘Is that Secret Agent Smith?’

  ‘Oh, is someone with you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Just to say that I fixed the house early and … it’s spooky to be here alone, I never liked the place.’

  ‘I can arrange something in … about an hour and a half.’

  ‘Great, I’ll go to the store again, fire is going.’

  I cut the call and put my phone away.

  ‘Secret Agent Smith?’ Pete asked without taking his eyes off the road.

  ‘I’m having a secret affair with a lady officer.’

  ‘Ha, like fuck. More like a cold wet OP or a dangerous job for the shits in London.’

  I glanced at him and smiled. ‘No really, she has … blonde hair, nice boobs, and I shagged her sister as well.’

  He shot me a look. ‘Yeah, right. Even I get more action than you.’

  There was no convincing him, so I didn’t bother. But it seemed that hiding a lie in plain sight was possible when it came to me and my sex life, a sex life that no one on the base believed existed.

  After Pete dropped me at my house my phone trilled.

  ‘It’s Tomsk, can you talk?’

  ‘Yes, back at my base in the UK.’

  ‘I followed the story in Yemen, I get the English papers, and I have most all of your books as well. Oh, I had that book about Bosnia translated into Russian and checked, makes it easier for me to read, and they sent a copy to the publishers in London, so now those people will print in Russian, and Serbo-Croat as well.’

  ‘I should be on a commission, but I’m not!’

  ‘Listen, a boat sailed from Costa Rica, drugs on it, lots of drugs, big consignment, but a rival of mine. I tipped off a man who does not like this rival, and he put a bomb on the boat, to sink it mid-Atlantic.’

  ‘How big a bomb?’ I wondered.

  ‘Well, big enough to sink a ship.’

  ‘And how big is this fucking ship?’

  ‘Well, like a small cargo ship, not so small.’

  ‘How many people on it, the crew?’

  ‘They said twelve.’

  ‘And are all of the crew involved with drug smuggling?’

  ‘Some are, yes.’

  ‘Then let’s hope they get off in time, the innocent ones I mean. What’s the ship’s name?’

  ‘Grenada Star II.’

  ‘And when will it be mid-Atlantic?’ I pressed.

  ‘That’s the thing, it sailed early, we just found out, so … it’s approaching Europe and the bomb is set to go off tomorrow, so it could dock some place.’

  ‘Shit. Where is it scheduled to dock?’

  ‘Some place in England.’

  ‘Fuck.’

  ‘Not my fault -’

  ‘I’ll have the ship stopped, before it blows up a British harbour and kills some seagulls. I’ll get back to you.’

  I called SIS. ‘It’s Wilco, situation critical. A ship called Grenada Star II is due to dock in the UK tomorrow, it came from the Caribbean, and it has a huge bomb on board. Send it up the line, and alert the Navy and the fucking RAF, and quickly! Send a note to the Cabinet Office fast, we only have a day to stop it!’

  ‘On it now.’

  Phone down, I cursed many people far and wide, then remembered Cecilia. ‘Shit.’ I called her number.

  ‘Hey you,’ she answered.

  ‘I just got back to the base, back from London. What’s the address?’ I wrote it down. ‘Be there soon, or … what time do you want me there?’

  ‘Any time, I have the place warmed up, killed the spiders.’

  ‘Good, because I’m afraid of spiders.’

  She laughed and hung up.

  I checked the local map and found the village in question, and I had directions, all simple enough. At the gate I told them I would be out all night, but to expect a panic, might have a job on. They were worried as I left, and complaining that I was not taking protection with me.

  ‘I have condoms,’ I told them, making them laugh. ‘No really.’

  ‘Yeah, right,’ the MP Captain scoffed.

  I left them to debate what I was really up to, and I drove to Brize Norton and on in the dark, finding the village, the church, a right turn, t
he village pub, on 300yards, left past a new group of houses, down, dead end and a cottage on the right.

  The lights were on, so someone was at home. Parked, I checked the lane and walked down a path fifty yards, a look, listen and a sniff of the air, a glance into her garden, and no armed assassins seemed to be around.

  I approached, checking over my shoulder, but had seen her through a window, and knocked loudly.

  She opened the door with a smile. ‘Hey you.’

  I was mildly shocked by how good looking she was in civvy clothes and make-up. I ducked inside, the doorway low. ‘I hate low ceilings in cottages.’

  ‘These are not too bad,’ she said as she closed the door. ‘Just this front door.’

  ‘Can you close any curtains, I do have a few threats against me, so I’m cautious, worried about your safety.’

  ‘Oh, right.’ She closed all the curtains as best she could, and locked both doors, leading me into the lounge.

  ‘Something smells good,’ I commended, a take-away on the coffee table.

  ‘I slaved over a chicken curry takeaway, and microwaved it again when I figured you were close.’ She sat next to me and she smelt great, as good as the food.

  ‘It smells like you’re a good cook,’ I approved, coat off, jacket off, and I sat with my holster on, so used to it I had not thought it through.

  She noticed the holster.

  ‘Sorry, forgot about it, always wear it. I can take it off,’ I offered.

  ‘It’s OK, leave it on, it’s … a turn on. James Bond and all that.’

  ‘My car is not quite an Aston Martin, but I do have plenty of money tucked away, nothing to spend it on, always abroad living in a hole in the ground. But tell me, you did get all the spiders, right?’

  She smiled. ‘Those I could see, yes.’

  I spooned out rice, then chicken korma, a narn bread grabbed as she opened a beer for me. ‘You know how to get to a soldier I see, the old curry and beer trick. Not a spy, are you?’

  ‘Are you?’ she teased. ‘We hear things.’

  ‘I work for Intel, yes, soldiering the rest of the time.’

  ‘And these shits linked to Lord Michaels?’