Wilco- Lone Wolf 16 Read online

  He nodded. ‘Live another week. How’s Rocko?’

  I took in the men on stag near the front gate. ‘He was next to me when the van blew and killed the kid, and Rocko had been protecting the kid with me, so he was cut-up by it, more than I’ve seen him for a while. But he’s busy at the base, regulars use it, and territorials.

  ‘His eye is fucked, and he won’t have the operation because the operation might just make him blind. If he takes it easy he’ll keep his sight.’

  Rizzo nodded as we took in the RAF packing up kit. ‘Jacque got hit in the eye, nasty place to be hit.’ He shook his head.

  Nicholson had finished his brew, then went on to finish off four full magazines of long-casing 7.62mm. He called from his lofty perch. ‘Boss, no one left to shoot at, and the workers all fucked off when we hit the jeeps over there, so they’re having a half day.

  ‘I saw the generator for the lights and hit that, set it alight, and hit a truck and destroyed the engine. Around us here we killed thirty, but they were not the most switched-on bunch.

  ‘Sasha and Henri and the Wolves were down near a path, in some nasty thicket, and they pasted the blacks, fifty killed, and we hit them in the back as they ran off, hit some in the river. Yanks came over the radio with turkey shoot. Tell me, in America, do they put turkeys in some small enclosure and then shoot at them?’

  I smiled. ‘No, but a turkey is slow and can’t fly, so easy to shoot, hence turkey shoot.’

  ‘Ah, that’s it then.’

  ‘Any wounded?’ I asked.

  ‘Grenade went off close to some, they got a piece, but nothing that can’t wait. The blacks didn’t see us or get close just fired off at random.’

  ‘Withdraw back here, start walking, we’ll send the jeeps.’

  ‘Right, Boss.’

  In the map room I updated Moran and he dispatched the jeep convoy, eight jeeps, GPMGs on two of them. Back outside I called Mike Papa. ‘Mister President, the gunmen at the diamond mine are all a bit dead. Call Nantse again and negotiate.’

  He laughed. ‘I shall call him now, and get a good price. He will need the money for a few more men.’

  ‘Tell him not to insult me again.’

  ‘I will, yes.’

  Inside, I found the Marines Press officers. ‘OK, got a paper and pen?’ They readied notepads. ‘Today in Sierra Leone, US Navy Seals, backed by British special forces, approached an illegal blood diamond mine near the border with Guinea. They were fired upon by guards posted to keep the mine a secret and so returned fire.

  ‘That led to more than a hundred gunmen moving towards the Seals, around seventy gunmen being killed and wounded before the remainder fled. Minor wounds were picked up by US forces, which included Lone Wolves, and the men are now being withdrawn.

  ‘Putting down the illegal mining operations and the sale of blood diamonds is a constant battle in Sierra Leone and Liberia, with gangs raiding south from Guinea as well. It is hoped that curtailing the sale in blood diamonds by those gangs will reduce the flow of illegal weapons, drugs, and will help to bring peace to the region.’

  ‘I’ll put that out on Reuters now, photograph the men when they return,’ the captain offered. ‘Interview a few.’

  When the Seals returned, the captain did go around to interview them, but he found a jubilant bunch, not a group of scared soldiers in a foreign land.

  The Greenie captain came into the map room as it fell dark. ‘We’re settled, sir, so what you got for us?’

  ‘For now just keep fit, and patrol close in, because we’ll move most of you over to Liberia in a few days, a set-up similar to Camel Toe Base, only no sand – or camels.’

  ‘We did our tour there, sir, not long back.’

  ‘And how was it?’ I asked.

  ‘Rockets a few times a week, had some idiots drive up and take pot shots, but we buried them. Had a mounted fifty cal keep our heads down one time.’ He shrugged. ‘Would have been nice to see a stand-up fight.’

  ‘I can arrange one for you, soon, so test kit and test legs,’ I told him. ‘Get ready for a jungle patrol.’

  ‘Right, sir,’ he said before heading out.

  When the jeep convoy arrived I walked out to the medics tent, Sasha with his arm bound up. ‘What did you do!’ I mock complained.

  ‘Grenade fragment.’

  ‘I keep telling you to duck more often!’

  He laughed.

  I pointed at a Wolf. ‘Where you hit?’

  ‘Go me some grenade in the leg, sir.’

  ‘And the rest of them?’

  ‘Similar, sir, save Murphy, he got a piece in the balls.’

  ‘Ouch,’ I told Sasha as Henri assisted Wolf Murphy in.

  ‘He’ll have to be flown out,’ the doctor told me, soon having a look at the testicle in question, now swollen.

  ‘Can ya just remove it, sir?’ Murphy asked.

  ‘Well, yes, you’ll not be producing any kids with it.’

  ‘I got me a kid back home, sir, but I’m not with the mother. Was a high school accident.’

  ‘Oh, I see,’ the doctor said as he examined the testicle.

  ‘And Major Wilco, he cut his own testicle off in the bush.’

  ‘I have one left,’ I told him. ‘And I just made a lady pregnant in the UK, so don’t worry – one is enough.’

  ‘You knocked up some poor girl?’ came from another doctor.

  ‘We have a long-standing relationship, and she’s an officer and … thirty three years old. As well as being a doctor, so she knew what she was doing. We already have the one daughter.’

  ‘Never knew you had a family.’

  ‘Not something I advertise, people keep trying to kill me. And if Murphy says he wants it removed, then remove it and he can get back to soldiering.’

  ‘Should be at least two weeks off,’ the doctor complained.

  ‘I’ll give him two days off and a desk job.’ I stepped out, found the Marines Press officer, and took him in to see Murphy, a good story for the folks back home.

  At dawn the US Navy made a loud noise over in Ivory Coast, the Ivory Coast soldiers thinking that the world was coming to an end, Reuters getting the story straight away. A nice expensive runway was torn up in six places, the taxiway torn up, the apron torn up, a small twin prop in the wrong place at the wrong time.

  Sergeant Tobo called Moran, reporting many men seen fleeing the airfield, the Ivory Coast soldiers seen driving off in a hurry. I had Tobo remain since he reported that he was moving weapons for a Mister Van den Block – who tipped well.

  David called at 9am. ‘The White House released a press statement, stating that gun runners and people handling missiles would be dealt with harshly, and hunted to the ends of the earth!’

  ‘Good bit of spin. Any press interest in Bastion?’

  ‘The Zimbabwe link was found, so now the European Union is considering more sanctions against Zimbabwe. Just the one small problem.’

  ‘The existing sanctions are already at 95%..?’

  ‘Ah, you saw the one small flaw in their plan. I saw some news about the diamond mine. What happened there?’

  ‘The President of Monrovia got a nudge to get the warlord on board and talking, not shooting. That warlord wanted more money so we killed all his boys. Now the negotiations start afresh.’

  ‘I think he might settle and make a deal, yes.’

  ‘More soldiers here, from Mauritania. I’ll move them into Liberia soon, raise a flag.’

  At midday the tall officer walked in. ‘Sir, there’s a lady at the gate to see you.’

  ‘Not another one you knocked up!’ Moran shouted. ‘Oh my god!’ The room reverberated with laughter.

  I shot him a look. Facing the tall officer from my wheelchair, I said, ‘What lady?’

  ‘Looks Italian, long black hair, very attractive – but she just asked my man if his big rifle was to make up for his small cock.’

  My head dropped. ‘Oh gawd.’

  ‘You did knock h
er up!’ Moran shouted.

  I eased up and walked myself outside, telling them to let her in. Her ride pulled away, leaving Salome carrying a large green kit bag and a smaller bag. She was in tight jeans, a white t-shit that hid nothing of her boobs, no bra on.

  She stopped in front of me and dropped her bags. ‘My government spoke to your government,’ she adamantly stated.

  I raised my phone and called David Finch as men wandered past and had a good look. ‘Boss, the lady from Mossad just arrived, here at the FOB.’

  ‘I just got a note about it, ten minutes ago! And it asks that we consider joint training! Consider!’

  ‘Next you’re going to tell me to be nice.’

  He sighed loudly. ‘Be nice, yes, don’t let her get shot.’

  ‘Wouldn’t dream of it.’ Called ended, I told her. ‘If anyone asks, then … you’re a captain in the Israeli Army.’

  ‘I’m a major!’ she hissed.

  ‘Do you … have some suitable clothing?’

  ‘Yes, of course, I’m not stupid!’

  ‘Come inside.’ I led her inside, the men all gawking. ‘Everyone, this is Salome from the Israeli Army, a major, so … show the correct respect. She speaks Israeli English.’

  ‘Israeli English?’ she queried.

  ‘Like regular English but with attitude,’ I told her. ‘Captain Moran, find a room for her, camp bed.’

  ‘We’re short of space,’ he complained. ‘She can bunk in with you.’ I saw the glint in his eye.

  ‘I snore, find her another room.’

  ‘In with you is fine, I rough it,’ she insisted.

  I sat back down in my wheelchair. ‘Ginger, show this lady up to my en suite. Salome, change into some suitable clothing and we’ll get you a weapon. Sergeant, find a camp bed for her.’

  ‘Right, sir.’

  Ginger led her up the bare concrete steps.

  ‘Very nice,’ Moran noted, Franks looking put out and shaking his head at me.

  ‘I didn’t invite her,’ I told Franks.

  When she came back down she was in green, shin-high green boots on, a green t-shirt, webbing on, but the front webbing straps went around her boobs and pushed them together, not over the nipples.

  I sighed. ‘Mister Franks, be so kind as to ask the Seals if they have a spare M4 and some ammo.’

  He headed out, shaking his head.

  ‘Why are you in a wheelchair?’ Salome asked.

  ‘A bomb, I was hit in the balls and the cock, all bound up down there.’

  ‘He was hit in the legs,’ Moran told her. ‘His balls are fine and his cock works just fine as well.’

  She shot Moran a puzzled look. ‘How you know what his cock does?’

  ‘He got a girl in the UK pregnant recently, won’t marry her.’

  She focused on me, hand on hips. ‘You won’t marry her?’

  I glared at Moran before addressing Salome. ‘She is high society, a rich doctor, and does not want to marry me. I’m her bit of rough.’

  Salome laughed. ‘This I can believe.’

  ‘What?’ I demanded. ‘You can believe … what?’

  ‘That some lady wants you only for sex.’

  I faced Moran. ‘We got any long patrols in dangerous places for her?’

  ‘Nope, none at all,’ he insisted.

  Franks returned with a green M4 and a few magazines. Salome stood over the map table and stripped down the M4 with practised ease.

  Ginger began, ‘Is it just me, or is everyone getting an erection?’

  Salome shot him a look. ‘Sex starved boy, huh. In Israel the women do military service. We shower together.’

  ‘He’s been in the jungle too long,’ I told her.

  With her weapon checked, and loaded, magazines stowed, I led her outside, her M4 slung. I described the features here, roads and rivers, the teams and the defences, those men wandering past studying her.

  Monster walked past with Rizzo. They stopped, and Monster looked her up and down.

  ‘What is your problem, ugly twins?’ she asked, hands on hips.

  ‘Webbing is supposed to be straight down,’ Monster told her.

  ‘I know how to wear my webbing, Mister. And it’s Major.’

  ‘You ain’t in my army.’ He went to walk off but I beckoned him back with a finger.

  ‘If you want to stay in this unit you’ll respect foreign teams and foreign officers. You represent me.’ I turned to Salome. ‘Slap him.’

  ‘Slap me -’ Monster began.

  She moved fast and slapped him hard, a dozen men stopping to see what had happened.

  As Monster rubbed his face, startled more than hurt, I told him, ‘You want to be in my unit, you obey my rules.’

  ‘Right, Boss.’

  ‘And in later life you’ll pay good money for a nice lady to slap you.’

  With Rizzo grinning, he led Monster away. I led her around the back and to the tents, and when she spotted the Seals she borrowed a pistol and thigh holster, putting it on.

  Dicky walked past as we neared the mess tent, a good look taken at Salome, and he shook his head as he walked off.

  Salome spotted the 14 Intel ladies sat together. ‘Who are they?’

  ‘14 Intel, being trained by me.’

  ‘They look soft.’

  ‘I’m sure no one here will object if you fight, tear your clothes off…’

  She shot me a look and walked over to them, so I left her to chat. Back inside I reclaimed my wheelchair.

  Moran cautioned, ‘If people know we have an Israeli here…’

  ‘Not many Muslims around here, Captain, so relax. This is not Nigeria.’ I faced the Marines Press officers. ‘Leave her out of your reports, eh.’

  He nodded. ‘We work in Israel often.’

  Swifty called. ‘Wilco, we got two patrols coming in.’

  ‘How far out are they?’

  ‘A mile still.’

  ‘Use silencers, kill them, I don’t want the workers disturbed.’

  ‘We’ll have at them now.’

  ‘I’ll standby helos and medics.’ Phone down, I told Moran to standby those helos.

  Swifty was back on half an hour later, out of breath. ‘We pasted them, a few ran off into thick trees.’

  ‘Double tap, get phones, but check for bombs.’

  ‘Boys are sneaking up now.’

  I had Moran update the map board; he diligently called Captain Harris and left a sitrep, making me feel less diligent than maybe I should feel. And his hand writing was way better than mine.

  An hour later Swifty was back on. ‘Bad news.’

  I sat up. ‘Wounded?’

  ‘Not for us no, but we missed the third patrol, and they fired on the workers before we killed them. Workers have driven off, three bodies left behind.’

  ‘Bugger.’ I sighed heavily. ‘Police-up the tree line, we’ll be there in an hour or so, don’t go into the buildings yet there could be booby-traps. Bury the bodies.’

  Phone down, I faced Ginger, ‘Go tell the Greenies, regular SAS, Seals, French, we’re moving out inside the hour for Liberia, and to lug all kit.’ He rushed outside. I turned to Moran. ‘Get us some helos, and get the empty sandbags ready to be airlifted. And I want enough supplies for a hundred men for a week.’

  As he got on the phone Franks offered me some Seahawks. I told him, ‘Have them ready to move your Greenies or Seals, but they land after we do.’

  He stepped out.

  ‘Can we ride in?’ the Marines Press officer asked.

  ‘And me,’ Max insisted.

  ‘That’s why you’re here,’ I told them. I eased up slowly and grabbed my bandolier and webbing, placing them on. ‘Sergeant, find my Russian ammo.’

  ‘In a box here, sir, two big boxes, and them long 7.62mm rounds.’

  ‘Leave some ammo here, rest of the boxes on the strip ready to go. Max, you got a pistol?’

  ‘Yep,’ came back.

  Outside, I shouted, ‘Rizzo, get any of o
ur lot here ready to move out! Dicky, get 14 Intel ready to move out to Liberia!’

  I called the Air Commodore as men rushed around. ‘Sir, I was going to ask for 2 Squadron and some medics for a few days, in Sierra Leone, but we got taken by surprise, could do with them sooner, a job in Liberia.’

  ‘I’ll check what they’re doing and see when they can deploy. I’ll get back to you.’

  ‘And what happened to the expert on runways, sir?’

  ‘He was dispatched.’

  ‘OK, sir, we’ll wait for his arrival.’

  Inside, I had Moran recall all of Echo and the Wolves.

  ‘We leave the area north unprotected?’ he asked.

  I gave that some thought. ‘Are there teams due to be here, standard patrol routes?’

  He checked with the tall officer. ‘Yes, some arriving tomorrow.’

  ‘Then they hold this place and the area, Pathfinders are here.’ I faced the Welsh Guards Sergeant. ‘Ask for more men here.’

  ‘Right, sir.’

  I faced Moran. ‘You OK to stay here a while, coordinate the teams?’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘After a few days there’ll be teams spread out all over, so we need them coordinated.’

  He nodded.

  ‘Keep some men back. Where’re Crab and Duffy? And Slider?’

  ‘Up country, and they have dysentery,’ he said with a smile.

  ‘Keep them here, they can train the teams, and keep the Paras here but send out mixed patrols, aggressive patrols. Send Slider to me when he’s better.’

  Outside, I checked with the Seals as they packed kit ready, the French packing up, the Greenies packing kit, “D” Squadron packing kit whilst whinging and asking what the job was. 14 Intel were packing in a hurry.

  ‘Where we off?’ Maggy asked.

  ‘Into Liberia, some action. But don’t worry, I don’t expect you to patrol out alone, you’ll be in a secure area, kind off, lots of troops around you. It has a pool and a piano bar.’

  She squinted at me. ‘It’s a swamp, isn’t it?’

  ‘An abandoned mine with buildings. Relax.’

  My phone trilled near the mess tent, Mike Papa. ‘The workers at that mine were shot at,’ he informed me.

  ‘I know, a patrol of men down from Guinea. The British, French and Americans will land a large team there today, don’t send the workers back, British Engineers will be there.’