Wilco- Lone Wolf 14 by Geoff Wolak

Author:Geoff Wolak [Wolak, Geoff]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-09-01T04:00:00+00:00

Ten minutes later, an out of breath Swifty came on, ‘Swifty for Wilco.’

I stood tall. ‘Go ahead.’

‘We’re up that building, good view, but there’s two Pumas strafing the rebels.’

‘That’s “B” Squadron. Any trucks you can hit, hit them from distance, report the movements.’

‘Convoy has halted, men out, two trucks on fire.’

‘Harass those men.’

‘Have at them now, when we get our breath back – we used the stairs!’

My phone trilled. ‘Wilco, Major Morgensen here.’

‘Go ahead.’

‘We’re at the airport, secured the main buildings, how’s it where you are?’

‘We’re spread across four rooftops, all rebel soldiers here dead or wounded, city centre and TV station is now quiet. Main rebel group was north of you a few miles, but they’ve skirted around and are driving down the northwest coast road - we just strafed them by helo, men sniping at them now. Plan is to keep them from the airport, from the TV station, cut the city in half.’

‘Marines want some action…’

‘Have them fly in with door gunners, to hit the column just described, then to fly north and look for columns of green trucks. Make sure they don’t hit our positions.’

‘I’ll contact them now. And the main body of Marines?’

‘They should land at the docks next to the Presidential Palace and work north along the roads to the narrow point, and hold the area south of the narrow point.’

‘Got it.’

‘Are the Deltas with you?’ I puzzled.

‘They were ordered to protect our embassy here.’

‘Ordered … by whom?’

‘Pentagon I guess.’

Off the phone, I turned to Slider. ‘Fucking Pentagon re-assigned the Deltas, no call to me.’

‘Americans always do their own thing,’ Slider scoffed.

Five minutes later the phone trilled. ‘Wilco, it’s Fishy, what’s happening down there?’

‘You in Mauritania?’

‘Yeah, but they said the war started early.’

‘It did, we’re in the city now. The airport has been secured by the Americans, so you can land there. Make sure the pilot checks with air traffic control about ground conditions first, eh.’

‘Fucking right.’ He hung up.

Sat down, I enjoyed the chicken, soon a scream from Tomo. ‘Wilco, there’re fucking tanks coming!’

I jumped up with Slider and we ran to the north wall, peering down the street and seeing small French armoured cars with 30mm fitted. ‘They’re just thirty mil, and I doubt they’d fire on these buildings.’

‘We got no RPG,’ Nicholson complained.

‘Nicholson, you’re pants,’ I told him.

‘What did I do?’

‘Those tyres are rubber, fuckwit.’

‘Ah…’

Tomo, Nicholson and Swan made ready, all smirking, and loudly blasted away, two armoured cars easing to a curb and halting. Hatch open, a head exploded in a red mist, the man in charge of the vehicle behind just as stupid, a chest shot killing the poor chap.

‘APC!’ Nicholson shouted, and three blocks away came four APC around the corner, coming head on, north to south. The tyres were again rubber, but a tough rubber, and hard to hit from this angle.

‘All men this side,’ I called. ‘Aim at the driver’s hatch, it’s open. And ricochet is a bitch.’

Slider aimed down and loosed off a round, to no effect.

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