Wilco- Lone Wolf 20 Read online

  ‘White House will be asking questions, loud questions.’

  ‘Then let’s hope they don’t find out who was really behind it. And I hope that the thirst for blood has been satisfied against the FARC, and that they just look like the hired help – which I suspect is true.’

  Bob Staines called next. ‘Hey No.1.’

  ‘I got hold of some Lucinda plant extract, had an expert mix it with regular cocaine and arrange for the Paris police to find it. Panic will spread.’

  ‘Good work, arrange some more. And Bob, you’re an evil, nasty, plotting and scheming world class shit.’

  ‘I know. Thanks.’

  Miller called after the teams had returned, no more artillery spotted. ‘There’s a story on Reuters, French police finding cocaine tainted with Lucinda plant…’

  ‘I guess the word will spread.’

  ‘Panic will spread. Within an hour the CDC will find some.’

  ‘So I think Colonel Raywood will have a hard time selling it, and if he tried - and it failed the test, the buyers would be … displeased with him.’

  ‘They would, yes.’

  ‘And do you not have him in your rolodex?’

  ‘No, because such things are kept very secret.’

  ‘Ah, if only.’

  ‘Only … what?’

  ‘If only the idiots you worked for could keep things a secret. Talk soon.’

  Tiny called next. ‘These guys were quite tough, but they broke, now begging for it to end.’

  ‘You worry me, girl.’

  ‘I have some anger issues to work out. So the therapist said.’

  ‘What did they say?’

  ‘They work for Manchez, Medellin, and they know where the American is, using the name of Marty Bannister, a cover of being a UN official working in education for villages.’

  ‘So where is he?’

  ‘Bogota.’

  ‘Good work.’

  I called Bob Staines. ‘You have a photo of Raywood?’

  ‘Not a recent one.’

  ‘Fax a copy to Tomsk straight away, what you have. And with height and features.’

  ‘He has a scar on his left hand. Might have been surgically removed by now.’

  I called Tomsk. ‘You have people in Bogota?’

  ‘Yes, a good team.’

  ‘Have them look at all UN managers, for an American, Marty Bannister, scar on his left hand. Kidnap him, but he probably has protection close by. There is a fax on its way to you, of what he looked like when he was younger.’

  ‘Who is he?’

  ‘The man who planned all this, posing as a UN manager.’

  ‘I find the shit. With the money I offer they pick up all UN managers.’

  ‘That would attract attention, so just look for our man. And quickly. We might end this.’

  I called Langley, the Deputy Chief. ‘Note this name: Marty Bannister, UN manager, now in Bogota. Fake some evidence, sex with small boys, anything, have him picked up if he enters the States again.’

  ‘What’s he done?’

  ‘He aimed some missiles at his Uncle Sam. If you get him, make him go away quietly.’

  ‘And he works for?’

  ‘You don’t want to know, and they’d go for your family.’

  ‘We need to talk face to face, real soon.’

  ‘It won’t be a pleasant chat,’ I warned him.

  Stood staring at the nearby hills, I called for transport and dispatched Salome to Tomsk, to get a flight to the States. She was looking forwards to a hot bath.

  Swifty appeared as we lost the light; sweaty, dried mud all over. ‘We fired off all the RPGs and we dumped some of the explosives we had left, so we brought back fuck all.’

  ‘Just as well, I don’t want it left around for a mortar to hit. Rest if you need it, then I want you teaching the American Wolves.’

  Tomsk rang after dark. ‘I have that man in Bogota, the police chief there got him, I already had them cut his fingers off.’

  ‘Ah, in which case, him making a deal would be hard – he couldn’t sign it,’ I quipped.

  ‘They fly him to me, private jet.’

  ‘Be careful, there are American aircraft all around here.’

  ‘They fly low level off the coast,’ he assured me. ‘No one sees them.’

  An hour later and Admiral Mulloy was on. ‘We had a cruise missile come at us, picket ship shot it down!’

  ‘I’m … surprised they had one ready. What direction did it come from?’

  ‘From the Colombian coast.’

  I closed my eyes and tipped my head back. ‘Ah … shit.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Ask the radar guy if it had a large profile. Drug runners fly private jets low level in this area.’

  ‘So it could have been one. Hell. I’ll check with the destroyer.’

  I sighed heavily, shook my head, and called Tomsk. ‘The US Navy just shot down a jet flying low level, Caribbean side.’

  ‘They shot down my prisoner?’

  ‘They thought it was a cruise missile coming for them.’

  ‘Those idiots!’

  ‘Whose plane was it?’

  ‘Private jet they said.’

  ‘Who was on board?’

  ‘Pilots, prisoner drugged up, and two guards.’

  ‘You best check around, and explain it to them.’

  ‘Their problem, they promised delivery.’

  ‘Pay them some money anyhow, keep them sweet. We may need them soon.’

  ‘I get no answers now!’

  ‘We'll keep looking for answers, don’t worry.’

  Billy offered me a chocolate bar as we sat in the dark in my command area, a lamp throwing some light around. ‘How’s the intel panning out? Team back at GL4 on the case?’

  ‘That team does a good job, but mostly GCHQ follows back the phones we get. So we get the pattern of phone use, and the man above the grunt in the field. Anyway, how you coping?’

  ‘Was tired after two days, but now into a routine, and your body remembers. I did exercises like this, hundreds of them, and this reminds me of Oman.

  ‘I’ve had dreams about Oman that I had long since forgotten, odd really, but it seems like yesterday. You dream about Bosnia?’

  ‘No, or at least I don’t remember if I do. When I remember a dream it’s from a child’s perspective, not from the adult mind.’

  ‘I read the book about Bosnia, tried to imagine how it was, and like all troopers I know what it’s like when you’re tired after a few days. At one point in the Falklands I was tired, hungry and cold, and really wanting it to end.’

  ‘Echo get to see the small wars, but I wonder how they would react if they were here six months, daily incoming.’

  ‘They’d lose the appetite for it,’ Billy noted.

  ‘So would I, I think.’

  Mulloy called back. ‘It could have been a jet, destroyer will look for wreckage, but it was flying at 400knotts at fifty feet! How the hell could we tell the difference?’

  ‘Not to worry, sir, just drug runners.’

  ‘We’ve updated the State Department and the Colombian authorities, and they’ll look into it.’

  Tomsk called me back. ‘That plane should have landed by now, no contact with it. I told them, and they’re not happy with the Americans. I look OK, and I pay them some money already.’

  ‘The fight goes on,’ I told him. ‘We look at other angles.’

  Phone down, I wondered if Deep State was good enough to have known about Raywood being grabbed, and did they have the plane shot down?

  I called Miller’s number and he called back. ‘You after me?’

  ‘Don’t laugh, but our good friend, Colonel Raywood, was captured in Bogota.’

  ‘Why would I laugh?’

  ‘Tomsk had him flown to Panama on a private jet, low level. Your Navy, thinking it a cruise missile, shot it down at the taxpayers’ expense.’

  ‘That is … an odd turn of events yes, and it cl
oses a chapter. I’ll … pass it up the line. Did they question him first?’

  ‘No, he was drugged and then bundled into a plane. The Navy is going to recover the wreckage, so they might find him, less his fingers.’

  ‘Less his fingers?’

  ‘They were chopped off before he flew.’

  ‘So no fingerprints then. They were chopped off for that reason?’

  ‘No, just to hurt him.’

  ‘Still, it helps us if they find the body, but also makes it look suspicious, a man flying without his fingers.’

  ‘Yes, would make it hard to open the complimentary peanuts.’

  I updated Tinker and Bob Staines, and called David Finch, getting put through to his mobile. ‘You out disco dancing?’ I asked.

  ‘Hardly, meal with my wife.’

  ‘Our good friend, Colonel Raywood, was picked up in Bogota by people Tomsk hired, and flown in a small executive jet down to Panama. Just the one small hitch…’

  ‘What?’

  ‘They flew low level, straight at an American destroyer.’

  ‘Oh hell, they shot it down.’

  ‘Yes, Raywood being killed by the US taxpayers, poetic justice.’

  ‘They may find bodies and wreckage.’

  ‘They’re already looking, but he had his fingers chopped off before the flight.’

  ‘What the hell for?’

  ‘Tomsk arranged it, some punishment I guess.’

  ‘It will look like someone was trying to hide the identity of the body.’

  ‘It would, yes. I had wondered if Deep State were that smart, but after recent events … I’m leaning towards no.’

  ‘I’d say no as well. So what comes next?’

  ‘We go after the drug company in Brazil, and keep looking for players in this game.’

  ‘British police just gave a TV interview, a stark warning about the tainted drugs, similar warnings given around Europe.’

  ‘Cold turkey on the menu for some.’

  In the morning I had patrols sent out to all compass points, the teams kept busy, the Hueys flying in, Rizzo taking a team south to look around.

  Tomsk called at 11am, as I stood observing the zombies collect more bodies. ‘I had a call from a contact in the FARC, and they want to talk peace.’

  ‘Why they talking to you and not the Americans?’

  ‘They think Petrov is killing their people.’

  ‘So … they will send someone to talk?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I’ll meet you at the villa. Where’s my double?’

  ‘At the camp.’

  ‘Send him to me here, we swap. And make sure he is dressed like me.’

  ‘OK, I get those army helicopters to fetch him.’

  I stepped to the Colonel. ‘I need to pop north for a while, the FARC on their way to Panama to talk peace.’

  ‘They surrender?’

  ‘They probably want to make it look like they’re not surrendering, to save face.’

  ‘So the fighting is over here.’

  ‘Yes, apart from the nasty surprises.’

  ‘Nasty surprises?’

  ‘The fifth column, sent by the power brokers. But the main man is dead, just that we don’t know if his team are still out there, money in hand, revenge on their minds. So be careful, sir, trust no one, keep an eye on the men collecting bodies.’

  A Huey finally arrived, Gay Dave getting down and walking over.

  ‘What the fuck...’ the Colonel let out.

  ‘Pretend that I’m here, sir, and don’t let him speak to anyone,’ I told the Colonel with a grin, and ran for the Huey.

  The pilot and co-pilot both turned to stare at me.

  Headsets on, I told them, ‘I have a body double. That way I can be in two places at once and always have an alibi. Vamos.’

  They exchanged a look and took off, soon heading north. I landed on the grass at Tomsk’s original villa, soon running and straightening, Tomsk waiting. ‘Where is this FARC man?’

  ‘At the hotel, or on his way.’

  ‘Did they search him?’

  ‘Yes, and checked for bugs.’

  ‘You know him?’

  ‘I met him, and we pay him to get the drugs through the border in places.’ His nose wrinkled. ‘I think you need a bath.’

  ‘No, I go like this. He thinks I’m killing his people, so this will help.’

  Tomsk shrugged, but did so with a look of pain at my smell.

  In the jeep, the old No.8 turned to me and wrinkled his nose.

  ‘Just drive,’ I told him with a grin.

  At the hotel, just outside La Palma, many police officers stood around, but all were on the payroll. I stepped down and caught their attention, rifle in hand. Those closest saluted, and grinned, a few paying guests shocked to see me, one lady offering me a wave and a big smile.

  Inside, we walked to a posh and Spartan meeting room on the ground floor, the FARC representative smartly dressed, the Panama minister here as well, Russian guards in the corners. I took in a lonely white board awaiting some marker pens, and an overhead projector sat in a corner.

  As the FARC representative stared at me, a man in his fifties but still with black hair, I placed down my rifle, webbing and bandolier, just my pistol holster left. I stepped to him and shook his hand. ‘Yes, I need a bath.’

  He took in my muddy boots. ‘You have been busy in the hills … I guess.’

  ‘Yes, busy.’

  We sat around a large mahogany table, and I poured myself a water, Tomsk sat beside me.

  ‘So, what does the FARC want?’ I asked, and sipped my water.

  ‘They wish an end to hostilities. The leadership was … not fully informed of what some members were doing, and senior men have been disciplined.’

  ‘For there to be an end to the fighting, I would need some answers.’

  ‘Maybe I can answer some of your questions.’

  ‘Are there more cruise missiles?’

  ‘No, they were used.’

  ‘Rockets?’

  ‘Some, a handful. We will destroy them.’

  ‘And the fake cocaine?’

  ‘One of our senior staff has been ... less than honest. He will pay for his mistake.’

  ‘His contact, the American in Bogota…’

  ‘You seem well informed.’

  ‘Always. So … that contact?’

  ‘Is not answering his phone.’

  ‘Maybe because we chopped him up. Are there other contacts?’

  ‘We are still investigating what happened. We need more time.’

  ‘Do you know why the cruise missiles were fired at the Americans?’

  ‘They said it was always the plan.’

  ‘And your people, those that went along with it, did not stop to think of the reprisals from the Americans..?’

  ‘We are yet to question them. Some have fled, as you can imagine.’

  ‘And contact with the Medellin?’

  He shrugged. ‘We have had close contact for a long time, we allow growers to sell to Medellin and transit our areas.’

  ‘Do you know what Medellin’s interest was here?’

  ‘The man, Manchez, was killed last night, that we do know. Medellin suddenly cannot sell much drugs, all the growers worried.’

  I turned my head to Tomsk. ‘Your sales down?’

  ‘Down thirty percent or more, but now we have the test kits going out, some to America. Soon, ten thousand test kits.’

  I turned back to the FARC intermediary. ‘If your people do not attack anyone, you will not be attacked further. But, we need some men to be seen to be leaders, caught and sent to prison, for the Americans to be happy here. Bodies will do if they are fresh.’

  ‘There are … a few men we can let you have, still alive I mean.’

  ‘Tie them up, with their ID cards, give me the exact location. But if it’s a trick I will burn down every village close to the border and come for you.’

  ‘There will be no
trick, we wish an end to this … this mistake. We have lost too many people already.’

  ‘What would these men say when questioned by the Americans?’

  ‘We will hold their families,’ he coldly stated. ‘And since they are involved … they say the truth.’

  ‘Make sure that they don’t admit you handed them over, they say men in masks grabbed them, American accents. And they make no comment about any white men, ex-CIA or otherwise.’

  ‘As you wish. And will the Americans leave?’

  ‘They will stop bombing you, and leave after a week or two.’

  ‘You seem sure.’

  ‘I am. Go get those men ready.’ I stood, and we shook, and I shook hands with the Panama minister, who was still looking reserved around me.

  Back at the villa I had a shower, Big Sasha having bought clothes for me, and I had greens donated by the soldiers at the camp.

  Out the shower, and Tiny burst in. ‘Hey soldier, you need a back rub?’

  ‘Won’t cost me a million, will it?’

  She ran and knocked me onto the bed, soon sat straddling me. ‘Tomsk has the money, which he offered to give back to me.’ She peeled off her dress. ‘God, I’m so having to clean those finger nails.’

  She grabbed her bag and led me to the bathroom, and I sat on the toilet as she cleaned my fingernails, complaining at length. I even got a manicure as we chatted about the men that she and Suzy had captured, Tiny stood naked apart from a leg knife.

  Nails done, she cut my hair, cleaned my ears and helped me shave. ‘That’s better, a nice clean boy.’

  I carried her to the bed, soon inside her and thrusting like a man that had not had sex for years.

  ‘Someone missed me,’ she noted, her breathing ragged.

  When I felt that I was getting close I slowed down, her nails in my back, and I kept going till she screamed. I finally released over her stomach.

  ‘I’m on the pill, it’s OK,’ she gasped out.

  ‘Next time.’ I flopped down next to her and we cuddled after I used tissue to wipe her.

  Five minutes later, she asked, ‘How’s the war going?’

  ‘They surrendered, but I’ll drag it out a bit, training for the teams.’

  ‘Do I go back when you go back?’

  ‘If you stay here I wouldn’t be able to see you.’

  ‘Well, there is that, yes. But I’m doing good work here.’

  ‘If you’re helping me, then you’re doing good work anywhere.’