Wilco lone wolf 14, p.19
Wilco- Lone Wolf 14, page 19
part #14 of Wilco- Lone Wolf Series
Sat against the wall, I tried to get comfy, crossed my legs and yawned. But after ten minutes I couldn’t sleep, so wandered around.
‘Wilco!’ came a shout, and I moved to Tomo with Moran and Slider in tow. ‘Look at the porn film crew. Something very fucking odd about them.’
As we observed, the naked man – with a huge stiff cock, picked up a knife, the woman screaming, and started to stab her.
‘Shoot the fuck!’ Moran ordered, blasts sounding out, the window gone, the attacker – and his director and sound man, now a bloody mess.
The naked black woman jumped up, wiped off the fake blood, checked the script with a frown, then ran out.
I glanced at Moran as he glanced at me, a huge puzzled frown from Slider, Nicholson’s mouth hanging open, the other lads staring down at the odd scene.
Moran moved around me and whacked Tomo with a flat hand, repeatedly. ‘You fucking knob!’
‘How was I supposed to know,’ Tomo protested, getting kicked by Moran.
Slider finally said, ‘Let’s not give a report about tonight, eh.’
‘Fuck no,’ I told him.
Slider asked, ‘What kind of movie was that? Porn with murder?’
‘Made up … snuff movie, I guess.’
‘Fucked up country or what,’ Slider sighed.
I settled down again, but my phone trilled. Tinker. ‘We traced that phone, and it belongs to a General Kibili’s son.’
‘I borrowed it from the general.’
‘Oh, right, because he’s on our bad boy list.’
‘Cross him off, because I prised it from his still-warm dead hands.’
‘Ah. Well he’s in contact with some Nigerians.’
‘No surprise there.’
‘One is just fifty yards from you.’
I eased up. ‘Can you get me a fix?’
‘Doubt it, the fix is not that accurate.’
‘Bugger. What direction?’
‘Northeast.’
‘OK, thanks anyhow.’ I had a look at the target building, but it offered a hundred apartments. But … but it was conveniently overlooking the TV station.
I shouted, ‘Snipers to me,’ and they came running. ‘That building has a cheeky chappy from Nigeria observing the TV station. Try and spot him.’
They knelt and aimed, chatting about floors, each man allocated a floor.
Ten minutes later they called me. Nicholson began, ‘Top floor, middle kindof, lights out, curtains open, guy sat smoking.’
‘Break his window, don’t hit him,’ I ordered, Swan breaking the glass.
‘He’s ducked down,’ Swan noted.
‘Crab for Wilco.’
‘Go ahead.’
‘We can see someone climbing up the TV mast.’
We wall peered up at the dark tower, finally spotting the man ten yards up from the start of the tower.
‘He could be a repair man,’ I cautioned. ‘The TV station is live now, full of people, some … late night repairs to sort out.’
‘Or he has a bomb, and will bring down the tower,’ Moran suggested. ‘How lucky you feeling?’
I sighed. ‘Take a few men across the street, ask the TV station’s boss.’
He called names and ran into the stairwell. We saw him run across the street a minute later.
‘Swan,’ I called ‘Watch that window.’
A few minutes later came, ‘Moran for Wilco, he’s not supposed to be there!’
‘Nicholson, shoot him!’
Nicholson took aim, and blasted out a round. The man fell, but hung on, still moving. Nicholson fired again, the man now hanging by an ankle.
A flash, and we all turned away, diving down, the blast hitting us, my body hitting the hard roof, the wind knocked out of me.
‘Wilco, you OK?’ came a voice.
I groaned and turned over, or someone turned me over. ‘Yeah, OK, no … no shrapnel I think.’
Groggy men eased up as the radio went crazy.
‘Moran for Wilco, report!’
‘We’re OK, plastic explosives, no shrapnel.’
‘Look-out, the tower is falling!’ came a scream.
Someone grabbed me and launched me towards the stairwell, a deafening metallic clatter behind me, and we glanced back.
Slider finally said, ‘Well that’s fucking handy.’
Staring wide-eyed towards the broken wall, we now had a bridge across to the TV station, should we be daft enough to want to use it. The metal tower had broken, fallen off, lodged it’s base at the top of the building and bent over to us.
‘No more TV,’ Slider noted.
‘Wilco for Moran, you OK?’
‘Yeah, and the TV station manager says the broadcast service is OK.’
I glanced at Slider, puzzled. ‘How can the service be OK when the fucking tower is down?’ I transmitted.
‘That tower is used only for mobile phones, transmission is by satellite.’
‘And the stupid fuck who blew it..?’ I pressed.
‘Knew nothing about the set-up here,’ Moran transmitted.
Rizzo stepped up. ‘This is embarrassing! Don’t they have any good lads, eh!’
I faced him. ‘In the Gulf War you attacked a radio installation that had been bombed by the Yanks the week before and was out of service!’
‘Well, yeah, but we followed orders. Not our fault.’
Slider told him, ‘Spiderman over there followed orders as well, just not very good ones.’
I called Tinker and gave him an update, making him laugh, then settled down again, the lads inspecting our new bridge.
‘I need a stiff drink,’ Slider told me as he settled down beside me. ‘Everything here is upside down.’
‘Sleep on it. And in the morning it will all be sunny and bright.’
‘Ha!’
Morgensen rang an hour later, as I was sat against the wall. ‘Wilco, we’ve pushed them back. We hit them with mortars and fifty cal on a jeep.’
‘On a jeep?’
‘We mounted one of the fifty cal to an airport jeep normally used for towing baggage trolleys, drove it up as far as we dared and fired at the column. Can’t see any movement now.’
‘And the roads west of you, other side of the houses?’
‘Like us, they would need to be able to see through the smoke to drive. Looks like all roads blocked over there.’
‘OK, great. And your Navy will have F18s on station at dawn, so a loud fly-by will scare off the rebels.’
‘Should do, yes.’
As the dawn started to make its presence felt I stirred, and I had benefitted from someone’s abandoned washed blankets to lay on. Parker was awake, sat cross-legged with Nicholson, and he handed me his brew.
‘Good man. You’ll go far in Echo if you always hand me a brew at dawn.’
‘Swifty’s job,’ Nicholson noted.
I sipped the tea and sat against the wall, the sky a dark grey, mist hanging around the buildings. ‘Anything happening?’
‘Fuck all happening now, Boss,’ Nicholson reported. ‘And the visibility is shite.’
Slider jumped up, suddenly awake. ‘Fuck.’
‘Bad dream?’ I asked.
He rubbed his face. ‘I was … married, back in the UK, and Tomo was my son.’
Those in earshot laughed loudly.
‘A nightmare,’ I agreed. ‘But you do father him, so … kinda expected.’
He shook his head. ‘He had done something in school and I was getting the blame.’
‘Burnt the school down,’ Nicholson suggested. ‘No really, he did, at least part of it, set fire to some paint and it got out of hand, burnt down the store shed and singed some buildings.’
‘In my old school,’ I began, my cooker out, ‘the hall had these stone faces, like angels, up on these pillars, so I would sneak in, put lipstick on them, cigarettes hanging from mouths, wigs on them. Teacher wouldn’t notice till halfway through assembly, the kids all snickering.’
Slider faced me squarely. ‘I’m having trouble seeing you as a kid.’
‘I was a sweet little angle,’ I mock protested. ‘And the former Colonel Richards, he was my next door neighbour. That’s how it started, my interest in the military. He took me to the range, Ross-on-Wye.’
My phone trilled. ‘Here we go,’ I told them.
‘Wilco, it’s Tinker.’
‘You sound tired.’
‘I caught a few hours, some long faces here, everyone nursing a coffee like their lives depend on it. Anyway, you got trouble. The rebel force started moving an hour ago, driving and walking down the west side, they’ll be with you in a few hours, most are walking.’
‘How many?’
‘Thousands.’
‘Oh, then I better come up with a great plan. Keep the intel coming.’ Phone down, I took in their expectant faces in the dull grey dawn light. ‘Get another brew on, some grub, going to be a long day, we got a few thousand men tabbing this way. Wake everyone.’
I called Sergeant Tobo.
‘Hello?’ came a sleepy voice.
‘It’s Major Wilco, get awake and get a coffee, the rebels are moving, get me some warning.’
‘OK, sir, I call dee men now.’
I called Haines.
An equally sleepy voice said, ‘Hello?’
‘It’s Wilco. Get everyone awake, get the coffee on, then get ready. Two hours from now a few thousand angry black men will be where you are. Get the embassy staff out, but to Sierra Leone or the airport, the airport is clear for now.’
‘Shit. OK, I’m on it.’
I stood tall. ‘All teams, this is Wilco. Get everyone awake, food on, some coffee on, we’ll have company in an hour, a few thousand men moving south towards us. Get ready, cover all the approach roads, stay sharp.’
I called Morgensen, getting a sergeant. ‘Sergeant, alert the helos where you are that we may need extracting in an hour or two, same for the embassy staff, the rebels are on foot and walking down the west side, all six thousand of them.’
‘Jesus.’
‘Get to it, Sergeant.’
I stood at the north wall, peering down a calm and misty grey street, Sasha on stag, no sign of trouble yet, two crows squawking at us nearby.
‘They are coming?’ he idly asked.
‘On foot it seems, so an hour or three to get here, depends on when they left the barracks.’ I heaved a big breath. ‘So how do we slow them up?’
‘They cannot walk through walls or fly, they use these roads, we see them and shoot them, many of us men here.’
‘But we will take casualties, and they may get up a stairwell. They’ll also get up to the roofs of other buildings.’
‘If we hit officers and sergeants, like you said…’
‘Yes, they’ll lose faith, but that faith depends on the pep talk. They think the people are on their side and that the President has fled.’
He nodded. ‘They may be motivated.’
I called GL4 and asked that they find ammo and grenades from somewhere around here and to drop them to us, and in a hurry – plus pickaxes. The last part needed clarification.
I called over Slider. ‘Ground level had a shop with builders tools I saw last night. Break the glass if you have to, shoot the lock, get me large hammers and pickaxes if they have them, hammer and chisels. Go.’
He called names and headed down the stairwell.
‘What you do?’ Sasha puzzled.
‘Men firing over these walls are visible, so we make holes.’
‘Ah, yes. Better.’
I transmitted, ‘Wilco to all teams, try and make holes in the walls to fire out from, break sections if you can. And there are large drain escapes in the walls, make use of them. I want men assigned to cover the streets, all angles covered, and we hit them 600yards out. Each street corner has a man assigned to cover it. They’ll be coming from the northwest to start with. Get ready.’
‘”B” Squadron for Wilco.’
‘Go ahead.’
‘We standing here and taking on their entire fucking army?’
‘I’ll check with London soon, see what our orders are, but there are a great many of us, and that army is a rabble of tired hungry men who’ve not be paid in six months. We shoot the officers and NCOs, then see how determined they are to get around us. And those men, they avoided forty Green Berets at the airport because the Americans were firing at them. They’ve got no spirit for a fight.’
Ten minutes later, Slider back with tools and the men now hammering out holes in the dilapidated old concrete walls, I called GL4 and asked them to get hold of the Brigadier and for him to call me back; the Brigadier was not on my sat phone list.
He called ten minutes later, sounding tired. ‘Wilco?’
‘Yes, sir. You awake and with it?’
‘Not really.’
‘Get a coffee and call me back, important decisions to be made.’
‘OK, give me a few minutes.’
I observed Tomo smash out a low section of wall, then peer down. ‘Sorry!’ he shouted at someone below.
‘What was that?’ I asked.
‘Debris landed on some guy. And his car.’
‘By the end of the day his car will have some bullet holes.’
Moran said, ‘We evacuate the civvies in this building?’
‘To go where?’ I challenged. ‘Where’s safe, which road, which building? And they’d not listen to us.’
‘Maybe we check with London…’
‘I’m waiting a call,’ I told him. After a pause I rang the Cabinet Office. ‘It’s Wilco down in Guinea, I need the Prime Minister or the Defence Secretary.’
‘I’ll check and call you back, PM is an early riser anyhow.’
The Brigadier called first. ‘Wilco, you OK?’
‘Listen, sir, the rebel army is moving towards us, northwest road, six thousand men.’
‘Jesus.’
‘I need a decision on whether we stay or go, or reposition.’
‘Where would you re-position to?’
‘South, the choke point, protect the embassies and the President.’
‘With that many soldiers on the move the President would probably fly out, embassy staff as well, certainly when the shooting started. And if you take on those men you’ll get casualties, same as where you are now. At least now you’re spread across rooftops and they can’t get to you.’
‘Our existing position is good, sir, I’m not too worried, but they could get up onto rooftops, and we will get worn down, and if they have RPG and fifty cal we’ll take casualties, but as I just told everyone - they’re a rabble not an army.’
‘Yes, I doubt they’re well led or well armed. What decision do you want me to take?’
‘Just a second opinion, sir, since some of the Regulars here are nervous about the plan.’
‘You could fly out and leave the population to get massacred, you stand and fight where you are or at the choke point, you’ll take casualties either way. Orders from London are to protect the President, but also to suppress the uprising, they were very clear on that. You are to stop the rebels moving on the city, and I am now officially passing that order on.’
‘Very well, sir, but pass it to Colonel Marsh as well, and chat to 2 Squadron - so that they all know what we’re tasked with, no dissenting voices.’
‘I’ll make some calls now, double check everything.’
‘Thank you, sir.’
Call ended, it bleeped, so I called back the Cabinet Office, put through to the Prime Minister.
‘Major Wilco, there’s a problem?
‘There’re six thousand rebel soldiers walking south towards us.’
‘Crikey. Are you in danger where you are?’
‘Not really, but we will have a shooting war for a few hours, men hurt and killed.’
‘And the alternatives?’
‘We pull back to the embassies, or we leave.’
‘Well we didn’t send you there just to leave, and we need to protect our interests. What’s your assessment of your chances?’
‘I’m happy that we have enough men and a good position, but things could alter, men killed and captured, the fog of war. What I wanted, sir, was a clarification of my orders. Brigadier Dean has stated that we protect the President, the embassies, but also that we put down an uprising by the rebel soldiers. Do you confirm those orders, sir?’
‘Yes, that is what we discussed here and handed to the MOD.’
‘Very well, sir, wish us luck.’
‘You don’t need luck, Major, you’ll pull a rabbit out the hat, I have confidence in you.’
‘Thank you, sir. Talk later in the day.’ Phone away, I stared down the north road as a few locals moved around below, a few women on rooftops putting out the laundry to dry, curious glances our way as my lads loudly made holes.
Looking over my right shoulder I could see that the American Wolves had smashed out sections of wall on their rooftop. The city officials would not be happy, but they’d soon have a hell of a cleaning bill from the fighting in the streets below.
I transmitted, ‘Wilco to all teams, we are ordered to remain here and to fight, to stop the uprising and to keep back the rebels. “B” Squadron men, and other Regulars, you fall under those orders, and I just spoke to the Brigadier as well as the Prime Minister. “A” Squadron men, do you have a way out over there?’
‘This is Fishy, and we have a low roof below us, another below that, we can get down and get across to other buildings if need be. This building is solid and we have the stairwell covered, and the windows on the ground level all have bars, front door is solid as well.’
‘This is Wilco, there are helos available for extraction, and US Marines in boats if need be. I’ll update you later on if there’s any news.’
‘Wilco!’ Swan called, now aiming at the suspected Nigerian’s apartment. I jogged to him. ‘Man in that apartment with a sat phone.’
‘Kill him if you get the chance.’
Moran approached, and not with his happy face on. ‘And the civvies in this block?’
‘You want to bang on doors, a soldier with a gun, wake them and tell them to leave – assuming that they understand your English and your correct meaning, that you’re not there to rape and kill them?’
