Piranha (The Falau Files Book 4)

by Mike Gomes

  Locke sprang from his chair and knelt down at the woman’s side and placed his hand gently on the child’s back. “Is it waiting death for this child? Is there no chance for him? What is bold is not easy, but it is what has to be done.”

  “Why leave?” asked Thomas to the agreeing heads of the other men in the room. “We should get everyone to agree that we will take the mine for ourselves. Strike down Whitmore and his guards where they stand and run the operation ourselves. Then we get the gold of our labor.”

  “You’re talking about murder, Thomas!”

  “Yes, murder. Whitmore’s sad life for all the lives he has taken. All his gold for the lives he has taken. That sounds fair to me!” insisted Thomas holding the stick out to Locke with the point aiming at him.

  “Thomas, you are my friend and I do not want you to give up your salvation for gold on this earth.”

  “DON”T SPEAK TO ME ABOUT SALVATION!” shouted Thomas silencing the room and the jungle around him. “Your salvation is yours in your beliefs but do not tell me what mine is. If I can be part of giving freedom to the people here then I will sacrifice my salvation and my life. Maybe you can find it in your heart to forgive me, Father Locke.”

  Chapter 7

  THE BLADES OF THE CHOPPER cut the air making their distinctive sound. Falau leaned back against the far wall keeping himself far from the jump door on the side.

  “Tyler said you sometimes have a hard time with flying. You look good to me.” said the pilot looking back at Falau.

  “I am fine with helicopters. I feel much safer in them than in a 747.”

  “Ya know...”

  “I know. It is much more risky to fly in one of these than in a 747. I get all that. Logic has no place in my fear of flying but it would be nice if you were not acting like you’re mowing the lawn with the top of these trees.”

  “Sorry boss, but we have to stay off the radar. If we get picked up by the military then we are going to be in a shit storm. After you drop then I am going to be long gone and hard to find.”

  Falau smiled watching out the front window of the chopper feeling like he could see the colors on the birds that sat on top of the trees. “Let’s just hope I don’t die on the jump. You sure we cannot just drop me in a lake?”

  “No can do. Strict orders from Tyler to keep you out of sight and out of mind.” said the pilot not taking his eyes from the front window. “Just sit back and listen. Tyler made a recording for you with your mission briefing. You can only hear it once. Are you ready.”

  “Do it!”

  Falau leaned his head back against the wall of the chopper. The helmet he was wearing was padded on the inside and the jump suit was built with a small amount of padding as well. Tyler claimed it could withstand great impact but could not guarantee that the body inside the suit could also withstand the impact.

  Soft music started to play in Falau’s ears and Tyler’s voice pulled up like a radio announcer. “Hey buddy. The music is lame for going into a mission, but it has a purpose. I picked it because the tones within it will help you keep the information I am going to tell you in your head.”

  Falau let his eyes close opening himself up to all of the information that Tyler had to share.

  “You know the target. Lawrence Whitmore. Rules of engagement are simple. You do not have any contact with the target one on one. You are for recon and should always be at a distance. Information gathering is at your discretion. You are equipped for jungle survival but five miles away is a mining settlement where there are a mix of races and nationalities. You being white and American will not cause anyone to think anything. You can also head into town but beware that Whitmore is well known and well liked. He will hear about an outsider asking questions about him.”

  Falau felt the chopper bump hard clipping the top of a tree but his eyes remained shut.

  “Your pack has everything you need. Small tarp, mummy bag that zips fully closed to keep the bugs out, hunting knife, change of camo clothes, normal clothing, money, USA military ID, water purifier, Flint steel kit for fires, 20 feet of rope, camera, map, and of course your 9MM. You should be all set. When you use something up just cover it and move on. The camera has a teapot lens built in, so it can act as binoculars as well. You have 48 hours to do the job and then you’re out.

  Last piece of information is a contact for you if you want to see him. He is not part of our system! I repeat, he is not part of our system and should be given no information about us. He is a sympathizer to the people in the employment of Whitmore. He was once a worker there himself. Now he is a priest. You can find him at the church at the mining outpost. Good luck!”

  The volume of the music rose and then faded away. Falau’s eyes opened and it felt like no time had passed.

  “How long until we get there?” asked Falau.

  “Oh, your back with me. That must have been some hell of a message you have been out for thirty minutes. At one point you started humming.” laughed the pilot. “We have two minutes until we hit the jump zone. I know you have done a lot of jumps in the past, but this kind is a bit tricky. We are going to come into it fast. Very fast. Just before I give you the jump signal, I am going to push the chopper nose up to climb hard. You need to hold onto the am rail and jump when I say jump. Right after I say it I am going to bank back down to stay out of radar and zip away. If you wait to jump I will hit you with the chopper. Understood?”

  “Got it.”

  “Ok, get to the door.”

  The side door started to automatically slide open as Falau got to his feet and shuffled to the side of the aircraft. The jump bar ran across the top of the door. Falau felt exposed standing at the door looking down at the trees below. There was nothing to protect him if things went wrong.

  “Going up in three, two, one.” shouted the pilot and the chopper pulled itself straight up and Falau’s feet slid out from under him as he held tight to the jump bar. Dangling in the air he stretched his foot for the doorway. If given the call to jump he would not be able to project himself out the door.

  Landing his foot on the side of the door frame Falau pulled the other foot up close to it and attempted to regain his balance.

  “Jump! Go! Go! Go!” screamed the pilot.

  Falau pushed himself out the door feeling his feet slip out from under him. His left arm crashed down on the door frame and the big man rolled out of the helicopter just as it made its banking move.

  Reaching for the ripcord Falau saw the tops of the trees quickly approaching. He pulled hard and heard the parachute unwind and pop open. His speed held strong and out of control as he hit the tops of the trees.

  Chapter 8

  THE PARACHUTE SNAPPED out and billowed open into a wide swath of camouflage. The harness yanked hard making Falau feel like he was moving backward for a moment, but his speed continued. The parachute reduced the speed of the fall but the opening in the top of the chute had air racing from it.

  Falau pushed hard on the handles of the harness trying to decrease his speed with the tops of the trees getting closer with each split second. His trajectory was at an angle from the parachute and he could see that he was going to be dragged across the top of the trees. Lifting his legs he bought as much time as possible feeling the highest small limbs reaching up to lick him as he passed.

  Crashing into the canopy with great force, he felt his body spin hard to the right and then back again to the left. The thin limbs that sat high in the trees reaching for the light were wispy yet firm feeling like whips smacking across his body.

  Catching hard on a limb he felt it break under his speed and he dropped several feet all at once. Falau raised his arms to cover his face like a boxer. A tactical decision to protect himself from getting an eye poked out, but sacrificing the ability to see what was coming at him.

  “Ahh!” shot from Falau as he hit the first significant part of a tree. The section of trunk at the top of the tree was not big but it stopped his movement in an instant and started his d
escent to the jungle floor.

  Bouncing off the trunk of the tree the big man started to fall backwards, and he lacked any ability to control his body during the fall. He crashed through several small branches and then hit a thicker one that did not break under his weight. His back hit hard causing his legs to continue to drop past the rest of his body and start pulling his feet down first.

  Without warning he felt his body snap with intensity and he was jerked back upward vigorously. The parachute had been caught up into the trees just below the top of the canopy. It wrapped itself around several limbs and had been poked by the top of the tree that Falau had originally run into.

  Reaching the height of his recoil he fell again but a much shorter distance hitting a few more limbs and then he crashed into the more substantial trunk of the tree.

  A burning rose up from his leg as he twisted in the branches like an ornament on a Christmas tree. Heart rate raised and bruises developing all over his body had him walking the fine line between consciousness and passing out.

  Falau had been in on this line many times before. He knew how to handle it and that sometimes he just needed to let go and let his body take care of itself by slipping into unconsciousness. This was one of those times but in his current situation he was too vulnerable to attack. If anyone had heard the chopper or seen him jump they would be on the way soon. So the big man fell back on his training.

  Focusing his attention on the pain shooting up from his right calf Falau was able to lock onto it and push everything out of his mind. Becoming singularly focused not letting any other similitude in allowed him to stay conscious and ride out the storm that was the body’s urge to fade away and protect the mind from the trauma of the pain. Falau preferred to take the pain head on and use it as an asset in whatever sectional he found himself in.

  Bit by bit the mind started to clear and he let his eyes creep open to take an inventory of everything around him. The trees were filled with branches but often separated by drops of more than ten feet between them. The drop from this height was a death sentence. He was more than fifty feet in the air and hanging on by nothing more than the harness from the parachute.

  Looking down Falau saw a stain of blood coming from his right calf. Twisting his leg to the side he could see a stick was protruding out from the back of his calf. The impact of the branches and trunk jammed the stick into him and it refused to dislodge.

  Reaching into the pack he had strapped to the front of him Falau retrieved the rope and tied a loop on the end. Taking the other end of the rope he threw it up over the closest branch and ran it back down to himself. Slowly he lowered the loop down to his right foot and placed the loop around it. Falau took a deep breath not sure how bad the pain would be of moving the leg with the stick jammed into his calf, but he had no choice. The extraction of it had to happen in the tree. There would be no way to climb down with it in there and if he did and the stick broke the extraction would become exponentially harder.

  The big man pulled on the rope and started to raise his foot up. Sharp pains shot through his leg from the muscles moving and sliding around the stick. Falau gritted his teeth and pulled again bringing his knee up to his chest. He tied the rope off at the loop around his foot making sure it was unable to move.

  The stick was smooth and flexible. He could tell that if the stick were to be broken the inside would be fibrous and pale in color. It would not be hardened and prone to splintering. Falau looked up to the canopy knowing the stick had come from the top section. He probably acquired it shortly after hitting the trunk the first time.

  Placing his hand on the back of the stick Falau gave a gentle pull trying to assess if there were any notches on the stick that could act like a barb on a fishing hook. If there were one he would need to cut an opening through the skin and possibly the muscle to get it out.

  To his surprise the stick slid gently with little feeling of getting caught. The pain was harsh making his hand shake and the desire to kick his leg away was more temptation than he had felt in quite some time. But he knew that was an impossibility. The stick had to be removed.

  Falau pulled again focused on his breathing keeping it tempered and slowed. The stick was covered with the burgundy of Falau’s blood and the more it was removed the faster the flow of blood was. It simply dripped before his hand touched the stick, but now with the piece of wood three quarters of the way out, it had turned into a miniature river increasing in speed.

  He kept up the pace letting out a long hard grunt as the stick finally fell from his calf and he dropped it from his hand to the jungle floor below.

  Falau let his breathing go and gasped for air feeling the pain of the open air hitting the wound. The jungle environment was the last place anyone wanted to be with an open wound. The risk of infection was high and without treating and covering the wound it would be only a matter of time before an infection set in.

  Reaching to the pack again the big man fished through it looking for the small first aid kit. He found a small bottle of skin glue that was hospital emergency standard. The glue acted as an antiseptic cleaning the wound and could also seal it shut until he could stitch it up at a later time.

  He placed the nozzle of the glue close to his wound and squeezed it pressing the top close to the opening of the laceration. The sting was immediate, and a tingling sensation spread across his calf causing him to want to shake his leg to get it to stop. The glue was doing its job. The big man kept squeezing and filled the hole until it ran over. The glue turned white and buzzed as the blood was reduced to dripping from the edges of the gash and eventually not at all.

  Falau’s head dropped back and he returned the glue to the pack and zipped it back up. He had ten minutes to wait until the glue dried and he could attempt to move. His eyes worked over his route. He could use the rope and the loop to lower himself down to one branch at a time and then toss the rope back up to the branch he had just been on.

  “I haven’t even touched the ground in Guyana and I have already been hurt and beat up from a tree.” said Falau smiling to himself.

  Chapter 9

  DURING THE DAY THE creepy crawlies of the jungle floor retired to their holes and dead logs to stay out of sight of the predators, but the day time had its own host of snakes, spiders, and animals that would not think twice to strike anything that entered their domain.

  Falau’s feet hit the jungle floor and he surprised himself with the minimal pain coming from his calf. It caused a limp, but it was able to bear weight and support him walking. Yanking the map from the pack Falau had one thing in mind and that was making it to the mining settlement and talking with the priest.

  Opening the map up he looked to the marks he made. The mining settlement was not on the map. It had no government and was comprised of little more than a church, a bar, and a hotel. The law was dictated by the people there and a settlement like this was known for frontier justice.

  Falau pulled the 9 mm from the bag and placed it in the holster on his waist first checking to make sure there was a bullet in the chamber. Convinced that he had his bearings straight he set off through the jungle for the next two hours making good time by sticking to the animal trails.

  The sound of music drifted through the trees as Falau dropped to one knee to check his map again. From his coordinates and the pace count he used to determine how far he had gone, the big man felt the settlement was just a half a mile away. The sounds were more than likely coming from the bar in the little town.

  Removing the camera from the pack Falau placed it behind some trees and covered it with grass and limbs.

  The big man dropped to a crouch and followed the sound of the music and got himself closer and closer to the little town.

  Still three hundred yards away he dropped to his stomach and looked through the high grass with his first clear view of the settlement.

  It held a single road that lead through the middle of the town. First and foremost was a small church that had a steeple that did n
ot rise above twenty feet. No windows containing glass were in the building. Just open squares in the walls letting light and whatever decided to enter in. The workmanship looked more like a hastily put together barn than a church.

  Across the street sat the bar. Two swinging doors and glass windows were held by it. Windows were the attention to the structure that the priorities of that showed what billing got more effort put into it. One building up from the bar was the hotel but by the look of the women sitting on the porch out front, Falau gathered it doubled as a brothel as well. Beyond the church looked to be a junkyard filled with various pieces of equipment for mining and trucks. A good business that would save hours of downtime from the miners to get spare parts there rather than in the city.

  The camera looked standard, nothing flashy or even professional looking. It was the kind of camera you could get at a department store for about thirty dollars. Falau lifted it to his eyes turning the idle on top with his finger. The optics zoomed in keeping the picture clear and crisp. The expressions on the face crystal clear and should Falau choose he could zoom in all the way to a single person’s eyeball with no distortion. Tyler had outdone himself again with a simple but extremely useful piece of equipment.

  Scanning the little town he could see people moving at a methodical pace. Most had their heads down and there was no talking between people. The heat was far from oppressive being a comfortable 85 degrees with a soft breeze. The affect of the people were all wrong for a town that was a place for dreamers coming in and local gold that was found going out. It should have been filled with wild men ready to take on the world and others who had given it their shot and were done with the life, but this place had none of that.