Piranha (The Falau Files Book 4)

by Mike Gomes

  “Who are you?” asked Whitmore.

  “The angel of death.” said Falau now standing over the man with open stiletto in hand.

  “Why do you want to kill me. I have never done anything to you?”

  “It’s what you do to others.”

  “Do you want money? I have money. I can give you a million dollars in gold right now. It is back at the house. Just don’t kill me.” begged Whitmore, his cold eyes filling with tears.

  “You have hurt a lot of people. Slave labor, branding people, and what you did to Father Locke.”

  The tears started to roll down the face of Whitmore. “You’re a priest you can’t do this.”

  “I am no priest and I can do this. Me killing you will set all your workers free. You will no longer own anyone and maybe others like you will take the warning.”

  Falau crouched down next to Whitmore and was hit with a sharp punch to his jaw that landed without much force. Whitmore swung again and again as Falau bLocked the punches with little effort.

  “You’re just a murderer.” said Whitmore having anger come over his face. “Even if you kill me it will not change what happened in the past. Every one of those mud hogs will always belong to me. I will haunt them in their dreams and they will all bear my initials on their backs for the rest of their lives. They are my property no matter if I am alive or dead.”

  Whitmore spit hard into Falau’s face and started to laugh. Falau cracked a smile and after a moment started to laugh with him. “Guess I will have to get a plastic surgeon in here to get rid of those initials.”

  Falau continued his laugh as Whitmore’s face went still and filled again with anger.

  Keeping eye contact and laughing Falau thrust the stiletto forward and plunged the knife into the chest of the older man. The four blades sliced through the skin and bone with ease and the point of the knife penetrated the mine owner’s heart. Whitmore’s eyes widened, and his mouth dropped open. Falau pulled hard to the right and then the left cutting Whitmore’s heart in two killing him instantly.

  Pulling the knife out of the now dead man, Falau wiped it clean and pressed the button causing the blade to retract.

  The big man pulled himself up to his feet and looked down at Whitmore’s lifeless body. “Enjoy hell Lawrence.”

  Turning, Falau walked away into the high grass.

  Chapter 36

  THE HEAT OF THE DAY had passed as the sun was just clipping the tops of the trees before it set under the horizon. The birds came to life as the predators started to stir with the jungle darkening.

  Father Locke knelt in prayer in his church that had been seeing much more activity than it ever had. At night the workers who once toiled for Lawrence Whitmore took shelter in the church fearing the eventual raider who would come and claim the land for his own and the process would start again.

  The sound of an engine filled Father Locke’s ears and he knew it was the mail coming in the jeep that looked as if it were used in World War II. With the unpaved roads a vehicle with power and strength was needed for the bumps and potholes that lined the jungle paths. The jeep’s brakes screeched as it stopped sending out its similar signal that there was some connection from the outside.

  Father Locke stood up and walked to the window to confirm it was the mail run. Once a week was about all they got at the outpost, so he was sure that his fellow priests that he had met that were scattered about the world would send letters as he would do for them. If he were lucky Father Montello in Italy would have sent a few hard candies that he could keep for a treat.

  Pushing open the door to the church the bar owner and the hotel owner had already arrived at the jeep and were collecting what looked most like bills. Even in the middle of nowhere the government found a way to tax them. Locke went to the jeep and smiled at the sullen man driving.

  “For you, Father” he said handing over a box that looked to be about the size of a book and a few letters tied to the top of it.

  “Thank you. Have a blessed day.” said the priest getting no reply from the driver.

  Flipping through the letters Father Locke smiled at the return addresses and the names that were with them. Six letters from three different continents and a lumpy envelope that was sure to have candy in it. Making his way through the door the priest sat down in the first chair inside the church. The workers would be coming back soon from looking for food in the jungle and they would try to make a meal before sleeping under the church’s roof.

  Locke placed the letters down next to him and looked at the package. It felt like a book. He smiled with the idea of something new to read but there was no return address on the package. His hardened fingers dug into the wrapping and tape and tore it open to find a bible.

  Holding the book in his hands he turned it side to side looking for anything unique about it. It was not older or antique. There seemed to be little special about it. Holding the book up on its side he let his fingers flip through the pages until a chunk of them flipped at one time revealing papers stuck inside.

  Father Locke removed the pages and looked them over without noticing any detail. A handwritten note jumped out being on white paper when the rest of the documents were brown. Opening the paper he looked down at the letter and read it.

  Dear Father Locke,

  It was my great pleasure and honor to meet you and spend time with you. I know we had some disagreements on how things should be accomplished, but in the end I hope that resolution will be for the benefit of the people in your area.

  Lawrence Whitmore is no more and so the people you love and care for so much should be able to live their lives in a more humane way. I know Whitmore being gone does not solve all the problems, but maybe the other papers enclosed will.

  You will find the deeds for the land that Whitmore owned. He officially sold the land to the United Mining Workers of Guyana. This company is comprised of all the workers who have worked that land. I took the liberty of creating the company and seeing that the sale was legal. I have also enclosed a bank roll of all the company owners. I leave it to you to fill in the names of all the workers and submit it with the quarterly reports for the mine to the state. You have my assurance that the person handling your case will be of no problem to you. She is a friend of my employer.

  I have just one request of you and that is you destroy this letter after reading it. Keeping it is not good and will potentially lead to problems for you, me, and the workers.

  All The Best,

  The Man Building The Road

  P.S. The meek have now inherited the earth in Guyana.

  A tear slipped out of the eye of Father Locke as he looked down at the paper and blessed himself. Wiping his eyes he stood up and walked to the altar. Holding the letter out he placed the corner of it into the flame of a candle that sat on the altar. Turning the letter in his hand the flame spread quickly as he watched the words disappear forever.

  Chapter 37

  THE SOUND OF THE MATCH lighting caused all heads in the coffee shop to turn and look at Falau as he sat in his normal booth.

  “Sorry, I forgot.” he said with the cigarette in his mouth. The big man waved the match and extinguished it to the dumbfounded faces of the people around him.

  Knock. Knock. Knock.

  Falau’s head shifted to see Tyler standing outside the glass knocking for him with a large smile and a large brown envelope tucked under his arm. Falau waved to his friend to join him in the coffee shop and Tyler was on the move. The bell over the door rang and Tyler flopped himself down in his seat and tossed the envelope to Falau.

  “It’s all there.” said Tyler adjusting himself in his seat. “I didn’t even take any for the parking garage.”

  Falau smiled and placed the envelope down by his side seeing no reason to check the contents after several prior exchanges with Tyler. “I will say one thing for you Tyler and that is you’re prompt with your payments.”

  “We have a killer accounts payable department.”

&nb
sp; The two men exchanged smiles and Tyler motioned to the waitress for a cup of coffee.

  “So are you fucked up from the job?”

  “What?” asked Falau.

  “A lot of people would be. Nothing easy about it.”

  “I would not say fucked up. It wasn’t pretty, but I feel like we did the right thing.”

  “Good. It’s my job as your boss and my job as your friend to check up on these things with you.” said Tyler as the thick arm of the waitress placed the cup of coffee in front of him and walked away without a word. “I have some good news.”

  “What is that.”

  “The mining company that was recently registered is up and running. From what I understand from a few people we have down there that they all think Father Locke set up the company for them and used church money to buy it. They have a board of directors and everything.”

  Falau lightly clapped his hands together. “Awesome!”

  “Along with that their old boss just up and vanished. Not sure how that happened. Maybe the area he was in took care of that or maybe nobody cared. I will tell you that his old guards could not get out of there fast enough. They scattered like rats in a fire.”

  “I am sure they wanted nothing to do with the workers without the protection of the boss.”

  “You know that.” said Tyler “you sober still?”

  “Nothing like getting to the point right away.” mocked Falau “I am sober. I had one slip on the trip but that was because I was forced to drink a toast for me by the boss. No way I could get out of it.”

  “Sounds like it. You going back to AA and seeing Dave?”

  “I think so. I don’t know. Maybe.”

  “Seemed to be a good thing before.”

  “But he might want to know more. Lying and the program are not a good fit.”

  “Where there is a will there is a way.” said Tyler stirring his coffee and looking out the top of his eyes at Falau.

  The End

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