Piranha (The Falau Files Book 4)

by Mike Gomes

  “DONE!” SHOUTED TYLER pulling his hands back from Falau’s face. “Now look down and all around. Blink a lot too.”

  “I can feel the nasty little bugger in there.” said Falau shifting his eyes in all directions while looking like he was straining to see.

  “It will find its place but just for peace of mind you might not want to say bugger or bug. You could start to flip out thinking of it that way.”

  Falau continued the game of moving his eyes in different directions feeling he could control the chip and where it went with different eye movements. Within five minutes the chip found its new home and Falau could not feel it no matter how hard he tried.

  “Now let’s turn it on.” said Tyler walking over to a computer terminal along the wall.

  “You didn’t turn it on before you put it in? What if it malfunctions? Do you put another in?”

  “I tested it first. At least I think I tested that one.” said Tyler winking at his friend. Tyler’s hands ran over the keyboard moving through different sequences and passwords that put him in the screen he needed. Falau consistently marveled at how Tyler kept all of the information straight but now thought that maybe the chip helped him in some way.

  “Check this out.” Tyler clicked a button that said “Z” on the screen and a complete medical screen came to life as if Falau were hooked up to a monitor at the hospital. “Your current health is up and running and see the tab at the bottom that will let me run blood work on you and one field off that I can get your exact location down to one square meter. Just awesome. You’re never going to be without back up again.”

  Falau felt a wave of being accepted and cared for fall over him that he shunned as soon as it started.

  “Falau, we have more fun things to do like get you ready for the mission. You’re going to need weapons and a plan. Any thoughts?”

  “Oh ya, time for some of the good stuff.” said Falau rubbing his hands together as Tyler started to walk to his right.

  Falau followed along and smiled as Tyler stopped and placed his hand on a large panel. “This is just a taste of the stuff I was thinking could be of use to you.”

  Tyler pulled on the panel and instead of opening to the side it slid down and out to look like a large table. The new table was approximately twenty feet long and five feet wide. Strapped to the table were various implements of destruction ranging from firearms and knives to smart bombs and trip wires. Falau started to feel like a kid in a candy shop letting his eyes run over all the goodies that he had to pick from but the further he looked the more it was apparent that the weapons he had wanted for the job were missing.

  “Not to sound like a jerk but this really isn’t the thing I was looking for.” said Falau looking over the table at Tyler. “There is a small hill just outside the fence line of Whitmore’s mansion. I was thinking that if I went back there I could get up near the top with a high powered rifle and a good scope. When he went into his back porch or out on the patio I could take him out with one clean shot. The only thing that would be a question mark would be when he came into view. If you have the M107 Barrett Sniper that would do the job. .50 caliber rounds will not leave any doubt after I hit the target.”

  “I know what you mean about the .50 caliber rifles and the M107 is a monster that would fulfill this mission without a problem. It’s a great rifle.” said Tyler obviously skating around the issue. “But the mission is more complicated than that.”

  “You know, Tyler, I hear this a lot from you.” said Falau pushing his hands into his pockets. “We get half way down the road to something then you throw in a twist. The mission suddenly becomes more complicated. It’s like you’re a used car salesman that forgets to tell me the car has no brakes until just before I sign the papers. Just be honest with me at the start.”

  “Agreed.” said Tyler coldly and having a small amount of shame cross his face. “The mission is a kill mission. That is no different than what we talked about at the start. The difference is it can’t be seen as an assassination. You take a shot at that guy with a .50 caliber bullet and kill him, there will be an investigation. Then they are looking for DNA and possible national security issues. It’s all too much for what we do. We need to be much further under the radar.”

  “That’s understandable.” said Falau. “What were you thinking about?”

  “This is the reason that you get first crack at the job over Gabriella. She always wants to take the shot from a distance. No link between her and the target. In most jobs that’s a good thing but not for this one. Whitmore has too much local power and people would start to question things.”

  “Tyler. I get it. What’s the plan.”

  “The plan is up to you my friend, but the parameters are that the kill has to be up close and personal. You have to make it look like a robbery or something like that. It can’t look like an assassination. Outside of those rules it is totally up to you.”

  Falau smiled and kept his hands in his pockets and looked to the ceiling. “Sounds like you don’t want to give your opinion on what to do with this one. Is that against the rules for you?”

  “No. I can tell you anything, but I find that the plan should be from the agent and not me. You’re the one who has to carry it out, so you need to believe in the plan.”

  “So it is totally my show?” asked Falau lowering his head and looking to Tyler.

  “Yes. Well, unless it is totally stupid, and I think you’re going to get yourself killed. Then I am going to speak up and tell you why I think you could end up dead. But that’s more of a friend thing than a work thing.”

  Falau let out a small laugh and let the smile hang on his face. “Guess that’s a good thing. We would not want me dead in Guyana.”

  “My thoughts exactly.”

  “I don’t think I will need much. Some wire cutters, my 9MM, a few knives.”

  “I recently came up with a stiletto that is sharp on four sides and sharpens itself with each time it comes in and out of the holder. Prefect for a job like this and hand to hand combat.”

  “Mark me down for one.”

  Falau turned and started to walk away from the table and looked to the distance where the combat station was located.

  “Falau there is another thing we just got word of yesterday.” said Tyler with a somber voice and moving close to his friend. “Father Locke has been... slightly compromised.”

  “I thought he knew nothing about us.”

  “He doesn’t but he isn’t the same contact we had last time you were down there. Things have changed.”

  “I know there is a story behind this all, so you may as well just tell me.”

  Tyler pursed his lips and his jaw tightened as he nodded his head slightly. “I know you like Father Locke. He is a good man, a tough man. He has done everything he thinks is right to help his people.”

  “Tyler! Stop softening the blow!” snapped Falau shifting himself to look into the eyes of his friend. “The chase. Let’s cut to it.”

  “You’re right.” said Tyler again breaking the eye contact with the big man. “Whitmore went to Father Locke’s church the other day and attacked him. He took out a knife and carved his initials into his back.”

  “Instead of branding him?” muttered Falau softly with his eyes glazing over.

  “Father Locke had been talking to the workers after Whitmore branded them all. He wanted them to strike and go to other mines. Someone on the inside snitched to the guards.” Tyler’s face turned red with hatred and anger. His tone dropped, and he could not hide his frustration. “When word got to Whitmore he went with his goons and they cut him up right inside his church in the middle of the day. They left him there to bleed. When Father Locke finally got to his feet again he staggered out of the church and onto the street. There were a lot of people around, but nobody came forward to help him. Guess they were afraid Whitmore would do the same to them if they helped.”

  “Is he dead?”

  “Not physically, but his soul is cr
ushed.” said Tyler with tears gathering in his eyes for a man he had never met but greatly admired. “Only reason he lived was an older prostitute came out and got him after sundown. Her name was Mary. She took him back in the church and sewed the wounds. She kept sneaking in and bringing him water and food. He was back on his feet and able to help himself after a few days. She saved his life.”

  ‘That’s quite a woman. She took on a lot of risk to help him.”

  Tyler took in a deep breath and looked back to Falau’s eyes. “They found her body two days ago. She had been gagged and tied to a tree during the night. By day time she was dead, and her body mutilated by the jaguars and pumas. Nobody has even spoken to Father Locke since then.”

  Chapter 27

  THE ROAR OF THE PLANE engine and the propellers bounced off the walls of the open interior of the plane. It was no frills in any way. A simple bench seat on each side and metal walls that looked like they should be on an army barracks rather than a plane.

  Falau readjusted the mask covering his mouth and nose giving him oxygen to breath as the plane got higher and higher. He had taken a chance and taken a Ativan provided by Tyler to help with his nerves with flying and it seemed to be taking the edge off. The sweat and stress were still there but the feeling of sudden death moved down from a ten to a seven. His hands held their normal grip and he kept his mind on anything other than the flight and the jump that was going to happen soon.

  Across from him sat an older man supplied with the same breathing mask and steely blue eyes that looked out between the mask and the helmet he was wearing. Falau could see him smiling despite the mask covering his face. He felt the temptation to ask him why he was there but the idea of starting a conversation seemed like too much while he fought his anxieties.

  “Just crossed 35,000 feet gentlemen.” said the captain through the helmets that were equipped with microphones and headphones. “You have a few more minutes until we hit 40,000 feet and we are at the jump zone.”

  Falau shifted nervously in his seat and glanced across at the man with the blue eyes. “Any advice?” asked Falau with a nod of his head to show the man he was speaking to him.

  “You’re ready to talk?” asked the man.

  “I asked a question didn’t I?” snapped back Falau feeling challenged by the man.

  “No need to get upset. I can see that flying isn’t your thing, so I didn’t want to start a conversation.” said the man with a slight southern drawl poking out in his words from time to time.

  “Sorry.” said Falau sheepishly. “Guess I am a little more stressed than I was thinking.”

  “It’s no problem. A lot of guys get up here and don’t like it. People seem to think because of the work we are in that we have no fear but we both know that just isn’t so.”

  “You got that right. I’m no superman but they keep asking me to fly.”

  “And fly you will. I need to give you the breakdown of this jump. They didn’t want anyone with the details but me and the pilot just in case security became an issue.”

  “So what’s the plan?”

  “Once we are over 40,000 feet and we hit the drop zone you’re out of the plane.”

  “I knew that much.”

  “Ever make a jump this high before?”

  ”Last time here I made as low a jump as possible and crashed into the trees.”

  “That’s sucks but this might suck just as much.” said the older man. “At this altitude you would not last much time outside the plane without oxygen, so I am going to give you a bottle of oxygen that you will need to keep taking hits off of until you can breathe normally. If you mess that up you can black out and then you’re a goner.”

  “Hits off the oxygen. Got it.” said Falau unable to contain his smartass nature and causing the older man to give a half an eye roll.

  “You need to use that watch on your wrist. Make sure the needle is pointing to the little red dot on the north east marker. That’s your guide.”

  “What the hell do I need a guide for?” questioned Falau. “I am dropping out over the target right?”

  “No. You have a hell of a long way to go to be at your spot. Once you’re out of this plane you count to ten and then pull the string on your suit that will deploy the wings.”

  Falau crumpled his forehead and looked hard to the man “Wings? This is a wing suit?”

  “You got it. A normal jump from this height is about three minutes before you pull the chute. You’re going to stay up for about ten and you’re going to be going extremely fast. You have to keep an eye on your altitude. When you hit 5000 feet pull the chute. The fucker is going to snap back like a ton of bricks and you’re still going to be going fast. Yank hard on the cords and drop the speed as much as you can.”

  “This is nuts.” exclaimed Falau shaking his head.

  “The nuts part is doing it at night. I don’t know how you’re going to see a thing. You have to trust your instincts and keep your fingers crossed.”

  A slight banging sound dropped into Falau’s ears and he could see that the older man with the blue eyes heard it to. The older man’s eyes looked over to the door that was closed by nothing more than a net. Next to the door a green light turned on showing it was time to jump.

  The captain's voice again spoke through the headphones. “Gentlemen, we are here. This is the one pass we make. Good luck and God speed.” The crackle of the microphone fell silent as Falau looked to the darkness outside the door.

  “It’s go time friend. Best of luck.” said the older man standing up and reaching out his hand to shake Falau’s.

  Falau stood meeting the man with a firm handshake and looked into his eyes. “You ever make a jump like this?”

  “I had over 5,500 jumps in my career. Some crazy stuff but nothing like this one. There are some people who really believe in you.”

  “Great.” said Falau as the older man patted him on the shoulder. “Next time I will request a mission that has bus travel.”

  The older man laughed and pulled the net from the door as the light next to the door started to flash.

  “What the hell is that. Did I miss the jump?” asked Falau staring at the light.

  “No, it means twenty seconds to get your ass out the door now.”

  Falau grabbed the bars that sat to each side of the door and looked out onto darkness. On the horizon a slight sliver of light was breaking over the edge but was still an hour away from casting the direct rays of the sun down on Guyana.

  Falau pulled back and launched himself out the door and his feet instinctively attempted to step down and feel for the ground but there was nothing. His stomach dropped, and his hands flailed at the nothingness that surrounded him. In an instant he wondered if this is what death felt like.

  The big man breathed in and the lack of oxygen hit him hard causing him to cough and gag. Snapping back into the reality of his situation he pulled the bottle of oxygen to his face and covered his nose and mouth and took a breath filling his lungs. His mind jumped back to the older man in the plane. His eyes looking across at him almost cutting through him with their steely blue gaze. “Count to ten and pull the cord.” He could hear the man say in his mind, but how long had passed.

  The air rushed past Falau causing his wingsuit to flutter hard against his body. With his free hand he felt across his body for the cord desperately grasping for anything, but it was not there. Taking a second draw from the oxygen he slowed his thinking and focused on what he had to do. Even without the parachute it would take four minutes to hit the ground. He had time to collect his wits and get on task.

  More slowly and methodically his hand searched the front of his wing suit for the cord until he found it flapping straight up next to his head due to the fall. With one swift motion he pulled it and the soft synthetic fiber of the wings deployed from the suit.

  Falau felt no change. He was still free falling and the wings were now rippling at his sides. The big man drew again from the oxygen and spread his arms out
to the side and attempted to bend at the hips. The air raced by making Falau feel like he was attempting to do a sit up with an elephant on his chest. He could not bend totally over with the force of the air rushing by. Pulling his wings back in Falau cut down on the resistance to the air and was able to bend over and push his legs out behind him. He felt the air slow his decent as his body pushed against the aerodynamics of his body.

  Laying his body as flat as he could he pushed the bottle of oxygen into the harness of his parachute. He turned his face and took a deep breath from the oxygen and checked it again for its security of staying in place.

  Falau focused his mind and body and pushed as hard as he could extending his arms out fully. The wings caught the air and acted like a sail. The immediate slowing of Falau’s descent made him feel like he was actually moving up in much the same way the parachute made skydivers feel. The big man leaned his body and felt himself start to move across the air as well as down. He turned his wrist and checked his altitude. It was 28,000 feet and the red dot on the watch was completely the opposite direction.

  Falau shifted his body lowering his right arm and pulling up with his left causing him to turn in the air. He kept looking to the watch as he zeroed in on his bearing. Feeling the descent taking longer and longer, Faula cut through the sky and knew that he needed to maintain his altitude for as long as possible.

  The air pushed past as the light on the horizon started to brighten the sky. On ground level all was still dark but in the sky Falau now had a better look at the top of the trees. Still, nothing looked familiar. There were towns in the distance and he could see numerous working establishments, but nothing that looked like it was the area he needed.

  The altitude crossed fifteen thousand feet and Falau could not freely breath without the aid of the oxygen. Without haste he reached in and pulled the oxygen bottle from the harness and roped it making sure it would not be a problem when the chute was deployed.

  Ten thousand feet and Falau got his first look in the distance of Whitmore’s home. It looked tiny at this distance at least thirty miles away but it was an unmistakable hodge podge of design elements from his years of adding on to it. The big man knew that provided he had a safe landing he could hike to the mad man’s home.