Wilco- Lone Wolf 20 Read online

  ‘Bury them,’ came bluntly back from an unhappy face.

  ‘We can’t pigging bury them when they’re spread all over, like jam spread all over. And there are two hundred or more. We’d be tired at the end of it.’

  ‘Cover in lime as a stop-gap. But the law, and all the conventions, say we recover the bodies and show proper respect.’

  ‘The valley is too dangerous, still FARC down there. If you go down to collect bodies you get shot dead and add to the smell.’

  ‘Then, as a stop gap, the soldiers could put lime on some.’

  I stepped away and called Tomsk, and asked for ten tonnes of lime to be delivered.

  ‘What the hell for?’

  ‘Three hundred FARC bodies, they’re starting to smell.’

  ‘Ah, yes. I get some. Yuk. But I know people good with bodies, they could clean up.’

  ‘If they were in civilian clothes, the FARC would not shoot them. Have them well paid and sent with body bags. We’ll send the bodies to Colombia and look like nice people. We shot their loved ones, but returned the stinking bodies at least.’

  A Skyvan set down an hour later, barrels of oil and petrol, and I had them rolled down to the south end.

  ‘What’ll we do with those?’ Running Bear asked.

  ‘I was thinking that we roll them down and set them alight when we have enough.’

  ‘It is starting to smell.’

  ‘Got lime coming as well, and a few morticians.’

  ‘There are bodies just thirty yards below us here,’ he complained. ‘Dangerous to go get them.’

  ‘Let the civilians do it.’

  Those civilians set down later, eleven of them in white overalls with red crosses on, and they lugged out a huge stack of body bags. Each man was old, well built, and offered a face that had never smiled.

  I asked, ‘Speak English?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You go down in the valley below, you put FARC rebel bodies in the bags, back up here, fly off on the plane, make enough money to feed you for ten years.’

  They nodded.

  ‘There are still a few wounded FARC, but they will not shoot at you. If you find them, assist them, we look good on the TV.’

  They shrugged and got on with it.

  I stepped to Haines. ‘Warn your men, that the zombie-like individuals in white overalls are collecting bodies, and not to shoot them. Mister Morgen, warn your Marines.’ I issued a similar warning over the radio.

  Swifty called in. ‘We fucked up this area, a lot of damage, and we found a FARC camp and shot-up thirty of them, burnt it down. We trashed that petrol station, Rocko brought down a bridge, and then a second bridge, so the locals will be pissed off with us.’

  ‘Walk north back towards us, looking for things to burn.’

  Commander Dawson called. ‘We have a list of targets, military-style camps, but aerial recon showed them as being empty. Admiral was wondering if we could use them for target practice.’

  ‘Definitely. And have some jets fly low level and high speed south of me, bust some eardrums, but where there are towns and villages.’

  ‘That we can do yes, make them think they’re being invaded.’

  Thinking, I called Colonel Mathews. ‘Sir, what’s the mood of the media and the people Stateside right now, do they think we’re winning?’

  ‘Looks like a massacre, and the Navy had cameras on planes and on the bombs themselves, and it’s been running for days. Looks like we bombed the fuck out of the FARC, few casualties our side, so I guess the voters are happy.’

  ‘We have people here, local men, collecting bodies, so we’ll look like caring individuals at least.’

  ‘Why the question?’

  ‘I’m not sure we’ll get a signed confession from the men who fired the cruise missiles, sir. So … does that matter?’

  ‘Hard to guess. The people have seen us kick back, but the politicians want to know the detail of who they were.’

  ‘We might never get to the bottom of that, sir. So the question is, have we done enough damage here?’

  ‘I’d say yes, to appease most people. You want to pull out?’

  ‘No, just that we’re shooting the foot soldiers and missing the paymasters.’

  ‘I understand the frustration, yes.’

  ‘I’ll keep at it, see if I can get a lead on some of the senior staff, but as far as I know some were killed last night in the camp that your Navy bombed.’

  I did the rounds, men chatted to, and I was risking being shot at from below. But for now it was all quiet, bodies being bagged up by the zombies. I stopped at a trench hosting Parker and Monster.

  ‘Parker, how you doing?’

  ‘No injuries so far, Boss.’

  ‘How did you get lumbered with Monster?’

  ‘What’s wrong with me?’ Monster protested.

  ‘How long do you have?’ I countered with, and they laughed.

  Parker told me, ‘He shat in a paper bag and threw it towards Rizzo.’

  ‘You’re supposed to set fire to the paper bag,’ I told them.

  I chatted to Mouri and Swan, both in good spirits, Tiller and Brace, and moved along the line to Moran and Ginger.

  ‘We winning here?’ Moran asked.

  ‘There’s bits of dead FARC spread like jam down below, bodies everywhere. So yes, but we still need some of their command staff.’

  ‘Be sat in Bogota with a cold beer,’ Ginger scoffed.

  ‘And the story from that man?’ Moran asked.

  ‘Was key to understanding this mess, the real story, so don’t repeat it, make sure Rizzo clams up.’

  Across at the medics, I found Doc Willy. ‘How you coping. Doc?’

  He wiped is brow with the back of a sleeve. ‘Well, as a kid I saw all the Vietnam War movies, and this is like being in one, Americans with M16s! We got the mud and the jungle, and the incoming, so it’s all a bit surreal, and a long way from a sterile hospital in the UK.

  ‘As for the soldiering aspect, I’m not suffering here, I can live in a hole in the ground well enough, and the incoming didn’t scare me, nor the infiltrators. Overall I’d say I’d rather be here than back in Catterick.’

  ‘Good, there’s hope for you then.’

  The zombies brought back a body with a pulse, the medics having a look and then getting to work. They might be able to save the man, something for them to do. An hour later they had ten wounded FARC to tend to, helos called for, the wounded sent back after being stabilised.

  They also had a long line of bulging body bags, Max snapping away with the Press officers.

  By 3pm, the day hot and sticky, we had forty bodies in bags, a very long line, and I called in the Skyvan. It arrived with the lime, and it started to ferry the body bags to the airstrip.

  The 2 Squadron patrol came back in, four FARC rebels shot, a number of wounded noted, a shit load of dead bodies checked. The zombies would now take down the lime and use it on bodies and body parts.

  Mitch called. ‘We stay here?’

  ‘Any movement?’

  ‘Nada.’

  ‘Walk back in slow, let us know when you’re close.’

  Tinker called. ‘Got a phone hit. Got a paper and pen?’

  ‘Hold on. OK, go ahead.’ I wrote down the grid. ‘OK, thanks.’ At the command bunker I had a look at the map, and found a road five miles west-southwest of us.’

  Calling the airfield and asked for four Hueys. I transmitted, ‘Echo, I want sixteen men for a Huey mission, five minutes.’

  I could soon see them forming up, four teams of four, my snipers with them. The Hueys roared in a few minutes later and I ran to the first one. Inside, headsets on, I said, ‘Five miles on heading 260 there is a road, search the area for trucks and FARC.’

  Slider was going along, so I shouted in his ear, ‘Shoot from above, or land and skirmish if you see something.’

  He nodded and sat on the side.

  Running clear, I could see Monster and Parker sa
t ready, Ginger along for the ride, Max sat next to him – not that I had invited Max along, the Hueys roaring away west and down the valley, soon out of sight.

  ‘What’s the mission?’ the Colonel asked.

  ‘Phone hit on a road, five miles west. Might be nothing.’

  It had only been around three minutes when my phone trilled. ‘It’s Ginger,’ came a distorted shout. ‘They have artillery!’

  I lowered the phone. ‘Incoming! Get to cover!’ I transmitted, ‘Artillery incoming, get into the trenches!’ I fired a burst. ‘Incoming!’

  I lifted the phone. ‘Ginger, you there?’

  ‘We’re firing down, scattering them.’

  ‘What type of artillery?’

  ‘105mm it looks like.’

  ‘Kill them all, then I’ll get the Navy to bomb.’ I faced Morgen and the Colonel. ‘105mm artillery. They would have killed some of us.’

  I called ship as the command staff looked worried. ‘This is Wilco, emergency tasking, FARC with artillery, five miles west of LZ2, bearing 260. Any bird close-by can strafe, but we have Hueys firing down at the artillery now. Warn your pilots, I want visual confirmation first of targets, artillery pieces and trucks.’

  ‘Understood.’

  I called back Ginger. ‘It’s Wilco, what’s happening there?’

  ‘We shot many, rest have scattered.’

  ‘Get clear, Navy will bomb, circle a mile out.’

  ‘Roger that.’

  A minute later two jets screeched over and headed west. We peered that way, not hearing any distant blasts, but the artillery pieces were five miles away and in a valley.

  My phone trilled. ‘It’s Ginger,’ came a distorted shout. ‘F18s strafed the artillery and trucks.’

  ‘Bombs on the way. When they’re done, get in and get phones and ID cards!’

  I asked Morgen to get more Hueys, and to have SEALs aboard Seahawks for aerial patrols south of us, starting as soon as they were ready.

  A screech, and we all peered up as four F18s came past in a group.

  Ginger called a minute later. ‘F18s are bombing now, be just bits of bodies left.’

  ‘Set down a mile away, walk in, send the Hueys back to me.’

  Roger that.’

  I transmitted, ‘Wolves Captain, I want sixteen men, four teams of four for the Hueys, two minutes. They fly around and look down for FARC to shoot, artillery, patrols. Have an NCO with them, half an hour and back.’

  The Huey drone soon reached us as they came up the valley, setting down in a line on the strip, our rib cages rattled. I waved the Wolves aboard as the medics watched, the Hueys soon pulling away and heading south.

  They had been gone five minutes when three additional Hueys approached from the northeast. ‘Mister Haines, twelve men plus a sergeant, search and destroy, half an hour and back.’

  Hueys down, Haines waved his teams aboard, the trio soon pulling away and heading southeast as the Press officers filmed.

  I had just sat down when the drone grew, and peering east I could see a line of eight Seahawks coming in, doors opened. They flew past us, level with the top of the hill, and onwards, the two Press officers filming. I stepped to the radio operator, worried.

  ‘Warn them that we have friendly Hueys on patrol, and my men have landed near the artillery bombed by your Navy.’

  The message was sent and acknowledged just as F18s screeched past us following the Seahawks.

  My phone trilled, Commander Dawson, George Washington. ‘Major Wilco, situation report.’

  ‘My men in the Hueys got the artillery operators before they could fire, then your F18s strafed and bombed, my men moving in now to get forensics. We now have two groups of Hueys out searching, plus your Seahawks. Around LZ2 it’s quiet for now, bodies being bagged up and removed as small teams search the valleys for stragglers.’

  ‘OK, got all that.’

  Phone down, and I was warned by Morgen about reporters on their way. ‘How do I look?’

  ‘Awake and fresh, unlike the rest of us. Might need a shave though.’

  ‘Why, I put a mask on.’

  I had that mask on before they touched down, and I led them towards the command area. ‘Film with the backdrop of the command area.’

  The Colonel and Major Morgen joined me as the reporters got ready, some being the same that had visited La Ninga.

  A nod at the cameraman, and the lady presenter began, ‘Major Wilco, what was the aim of the mission here?’

  ‘The mission here was an extension of the mission in northern Panama, the La Ninga airfield region, to find the rockets and the men operating them. We came here because we knew that the FARC are located just a few miles south, and that the FARC had operated and fired the rockets.

  ‘We made camp here, and as soon as we were noticed the FARC crossed the border and attacked us, a force of two hundred rebel soldiers. We did not start the fight here, we were attacked as soon as our presence was reported, and we’re five miles inside Panama on this hilltop.

  ‘Since that first attack we have seen ongoing and escalating attacks, including an aircraft with a bomb, and today we saw artillery set-up ready to fire at us.’

  ‘And casualties on our side?’

  ‘A dozen wounded, no one killed.’

  ‘The Red Cross are here?’

  I glanced at the zombies in their bright white overalls. ‘No. We requested of the Government of Panama that they send men to help collect bodies, and to transport them back to Colombia for burial.’

  ‘How many FARC have died here?’

  ‘Hundreds, most bombed by your Navy. Overnight the strike group from the carrier the George Washington hit a FARC camp and killed senior leaders, and your F18s are bombing as we speak, various camps and training groups, weapons stores, trucks and artillery.’

  ‘How long will this campaign go on for?’

  ‘Till we’ve diminished the capacity of the FARC, and hopefully when we have some of the members of their leadership, questions to answer about the missiles.’

  ‘What do you know about the tainted drugs found in Nicaragua?’

  I consider my answer, Miller on my mind. ‘We now believe it was part of the same plan as the cruise missiles. We believe that the original intended use of the cruise missiles would have been to kill various cartel leaders and to cause confusion and disruption in the supply of cocaine into American through the Central American route north.

  ‘British scientists working with British Intelligence are certain that the cocaine was not accidentally tainted, but instead it was cleverly designed to act as a slow poison.

  ‘We believe that in the confusion following the deaths of cartel leaders here … that the drugs would be used as a terrorist attack, to slowly poison millions of people. We know that the Medellin cartel boss, Manchez, is involved in the creation of the poisoned drugs.

  ‘We believe he would have used the poisoned drugs for a few months, people falling sick, before offering genuine cocaine at a much higher price. It now looks like the Tiujana Cartel and others were duped. They are pipeline people, the Medellin are the growers.

  ‘Various scientists are now developing test kits, and soon it should be possible to identify the tainted cocaine and avoid it.’

  ‘And what about people who have already used it?’

  ‘They’ll suffer kidney failure, their feet will turn black and be amputated.’

  ‘This was an attack aimed at America?’

  ‘No, apart from the fact you consume a great deal of cocaine. The attack was on the quality of the drugs in the pipeline, and that pipeline sends drugs all over the world. It would have killed many people in Central America and Europe.

  ‘The aim was to cause a panic, followed by a hike in the price of cocaine. What happened, was that we discovered the plot, and the cartels turned their attention to us. The FARC, we believe, were hired mercenaries, paid to operate the missiles for money, made a few false promises and treated like cannon fodder.
/>   ‘At the moment, the person most responsible for the missiles is Manchez in the Medellin Cartel. The Tiujana Cartel were duped … but did they wish to strike back against the American military, we don’t know why yet, we don’t know what they were promised by the Medellin Cartel.’

  My phone trilled. ‘Take a break, film the camp.’ I stepped away.

  ‘It’s me,’ came Tiny’s voice.

  ‘Hey me.’

  ‘We got two men in a house on the outskirts, I just called in with their number.’

  ‘Local men?’

  ‘Tomsk’s people say they have Colombian accents.’

  ‘In that case, make them talk, but use a translator.’

  ‘And the million dollars they have..?’

  ‘If you took it, and if you desired to have it, I could no longer trust you and work with you.’

  ‘Oh. Well I don’t want it then, I have enough dresses at the moment.’

  ‘Hand it to Tomsk. Work quickly on those two men.’

  The reporters interviewed the Colonel, and then filmed the command bunker area, interviewed some of the medics, and filmed from the side of the hill. They were still here as the first four Hueys loudly returned, a good image to film. Fortunately the men aboard ran west, faces hidden.

  The Seahawks returned for the Press, and I was glad to be rid of them.

  An hour later and the Deputy Chief rang. ‘Wilco, there’s a story on Reuters about tainted drugs. It reads like a mass attack on America.’

  ‘Technically, it would have been, ten million Americans falling sick – but just the regular cocaine users.’

  ‘Jesus. Who’s behind it?’

  ‘People close to you.’

  After a long pause came, ‘And the evidence trail?’

  ‘Is being hidden.’

  ‘What exactly have you unearthed, and why no message from London?’

  ‘Not on the phone.’

  ‘I don’t like the sound of that.’

  ‘Nor should you. We are … progressing slowly, and the story I fed the media was correct in what would have happened, but not in the motivation, or who was behind it.’

  ‘Medellin?’

  ‘No. Others.’

  ‘You dropped Medellin in it?’

  ‘Their man Manchez is involved, his lookout.’