The Falau Files Box Set 1

by Mike Gomes

  Falau smiled in agreement “What’s next to fix it? Taping it?”

  “Yup. Bet Tim has some in his first aid box next to the bed.”

  Falau rummaged through the box and got out the surgical tape. Pulling it tight and hard under the instructions of Gabriela the ribs were held in place and could heal in just a matter of time. But she was now vulnerable and any attack on that part of her body would be a significant disadvantage. Gabriela laid flat on her back on the bed still in her bra and jeans. She was not shy and with her body so fit Falau could see why she felt no need to cover up. A twinge of jealousy filled him that his physique was not on par with hers.

  The sound of a card sliding through the door caught the ear of Falau and Gabriela. Falau reached back ready to draw his Ruger SR9C if the wrong person entered the room.

  The door opened and revealed Tim hustling his way in with a frantic look on his face. He raised one hand as if to say hello and went for his first aid kit and computer bag.

  “I know where he is.” said Tim dryly as he started to put the items back into his first aid kit. He did not acknowledge his beautiful partner lying half naked on the bed and Falau sitting next to her.

  “Duke?” questioned Falau.

  “Yes. I saw him. He went back to the hotel for something. He came out the front door and I followed him and his cab. Remind me to tell you about my cab driver.”

  “Where did he go?” asked Gabriela.

  “He changed hotels. He is at the Van Gogh. It is near Harrods and the Natural History Museum. Just a short drive.”

  “Is that all you have?” asked Falau attempting not to sound ungrateful for what Tim had accomplished.

  “2G” said Tim.

  “What? “ asked Gabriela.

  “2G. It’s his room number. I followed him to the room. I then stayed down the hall for about an hour to see if he would try to change rooms. He didn’t. He is just sitting there waiting to be picked up.”

  “Great job, Tim.” said Gabriela giving the older man a thumbs up.

  “Top notch work, Tim. Really impressive stuff. I am so glad to have you on the team.” said Falau patting Tim on the back.

  “Thanks, Mike. That means a lot.” lifting his head to look at Falau he caught site of Gabriela on the bed in her bra. “Not to be crude but did you two screw?”

  “No.” said Falau and Gabriela in unison.

  “Falau helped me place my ribs back into their original spots and then taped me up. He did a good job for a newbie at it.” said Gabriela nodding at Falau.

  “Thank god. Nothing fucks up a mission like people shacking up. I am the old man so there is no risk with me but you two are young and good looking. Just keep it in your pants and everything will be fine. Remember what they say. Don’t shit where you eat.”

  The three let out a laugh. Falau was in total agreement. Despite how attractive Gabriela was it was foolish to pursue her. She lived the same life he lived, one of risk and danger. That was too much to overcome for a relationship.

  “We need to move now. Sunset is in the next two hours. If we can get him shortly after dark we can be out of here well before midnight.”

  “I agree. We may not be one hundred percent but we can’t wait to get better. Let’s bag this guy. Go home and get our money. We can heal on a beach.” said Gabriela pulling herself to a sitting position with a few grunts and groans.

  “Gabriela here. Painkiller.” said Tim tossing her the single OxyContin that she quickly took.

  The three teammates rushed around the room gathering all of their things. Tim made one last check with his secure computer to see if Duke had used a credit card but there was nothing.

  Closing the door behind them the team went down to the parking lot and got in the SUV. Falau took the wheel and Gabriela reclined her chair in the back waiting for the medication to take more effect.

  “You’re the navigator, Tim. Show me the way.” said Falau putting his hand on Tim’s shoulder.

  Chapter 26

  The cab pulled up to the curb and the driver leaned back putting his right arm across the back of the passenger seat. “That will be 5 pounds 30 please.”

  “Here is a ten. Keep the change.”

  “Thank you, sir. Enjoy your trip.”

  The door opened on the cab and a black cowboy boot hit the pavement and was soon joined by a second one. Wyatt Houston stretched his back. The London cabs were cramped in the back seat for a man of his size. Pulling out a piece of paper from his pocket he examined it again.

  The sun had set and a chill filled the air. A misting rain left a small coat of wetness on the ground before it moved out leaving clear skies.

  Wyatt felt the gun firmly placed in his lower back on a holster then dipped inside his pants.

  Out of habit he looked each way down the street getting a look at all the people who were coming and going. Nothing was left to chance. Walking up the steps he smiled to the door man who opened the door for him and walked into the lobby. The lobby was small in comparison to the other large chain hotels but it was basically the same design as all the others. The space was wide open lit by high lights. Along the right side of the room was the check in desk. At the back of the room was a wide doorway leading to another room that was fashioned with numerous chairs and sofas for the guests to relax in. Duke was nowhere to be seen and that suited Wyatt just fine. There was no need for a conflict in the lobby if it could be avoided. Room 2G is where he needed to go.

  Wyatt walked with assurance toward the elevator. He turned his head and made eye contact with the woman behind the check in desk. He reached up and dipped the brim of his hat slightly to the woman being cordial in the southern way. She smiled and nodded back to the man and made no attempt to stop him and ask where he was going.

  Like most people who worked in the field that Wyatt was in, you learned quickly to enter any establishment with confidence and control. People just assumed you belonged and would let you go on your way even if they had never seen you and you were wearing a cowboy hat and stood out in a room with your massive size.

  The elevator moved much too slow for Wyatt’s liking and he saw that a set of stairs sat just to the side of it. He pushed the door and no alarm sounded indicating that it was a fire exit. The sounds of Wyatt’s boots echoed off the concrete walls with each step. Wyatt had always wondered why hotels would spend so much money to make the hotel look beautiful but when it came to the stair ways they were as sparse and ugly as could be. It must be the fire codes he thought looking at the yellow strip at the edge of each step. Completing just one flight of steps a large two was painted on the door leading out the main floor. The door was heavy and required a stronger push than a standard door. Wyatt rested his hand against it as it closed to keep it from slamming. The elevator was centered on the hallway and a sign posted on the wall told him that 2G was to the right. Wyatt followed the instructions on the sign and saw that 2G was the second door on the right.

  Wyatt saw the peep hole staring back at him. A stream of light shined in it showing there was nobody looking out. Checking the hallway with a fast turn of his head back and forth he moved in closer and reached into the pocket of his jeans removing a small metal and plastic object. The object looked like a small sight that one might use on a rifle but it was only two inches long. He lifted it and placed it on top of the peep hole and placed his eye on the opposite side. His fingers turned the optic making the image clear. Everything looked like it should. The room was standard like all rooms. Bathroom to the right as soon as you walk in the door. The miniature hallway was six feet long before opening into the main room. A large queen bed in the middle of the room to the right. A window on the exterior wall with the curtains drawn. On the left a large set of dresser drawers and a set of two chairs and a table next to the window that Tristan Duke was sitting at drinking a soda out of a can.

  Duke’s feet were propped up on the second chair at the table and he enjoyed his drink like a man who had not a care in the world. Wyat
t looked over the walls and floor. Nothing had been put in place to stop an intruder. There was no weapon on the table of dresser. Duke had felt that by getting another hotel room that he was underground and nobody could find him. He had dumped the handgun he took from home knowing he would never get through airport security with it. Going stealth was the only protection he felt he had.

  The lock on the door was standard hotel issue. A key card was used with a magnetic strip to make the light on the lock turn green. Wyatt placed the optic device back in his pocket and took out his wallet flipping through the different credit cards he had with his various aliases.

  A couple left their room a few doors down and passed by him with a smile and made their way to the elevators. Wyatt found his skeleton key that would allow him to enter any room he wished. He waited and the elevator doors opened for a moment and then closed.

  He passed the key card slowly through the slot and the light turned red just as Wyatt expected. The card was gathering the information on the lock so it could replicate it. He pulled the card waited two seconds and slid it back in. The light turned green. Wyatt pushed the handle down hearing the familiar click sound of the lock disengaging. Wyatt slid out the card and put it in his pocket next to the optic.

  Moving the door forward one inch he could see inside the door. There was no chain or bar lock engaged. Wyatt marveled at the arrogance of Duke.

  Wyatt opened the door and entered the room closing the door behind him.

  Duke’s head snapped to the door at the sound of it closing and he saw the big cowboy standing in the doorway and striding towards him.

  Pulling his feet from the chair he pushed his hands off the arms of the chair standing up as fast as he could. Wyatt met him when he was half way up and punched him in the face instantly breaking his nose with a vicious crack sounding out around the room and knocking back Duke into his chair. Blood instantly poured from his nose running down his face onto his shirt creating a crimson stain.

  Wyatt reached behind him and pulled the handgun from its holster and jammed the barrel of it into Duke’s mouth.

  “Shut the fuck up.” said Wyatt pulling himself close to Duke and looking him in the eye. The rich man froze and then started to softly weep and shake. “Not one word from you unless I tell you to speak.”

  Wyatt looked down seeing Duke’s hands shaking grasping onto the chair like he was afraid he would fall.

  “You ran away. That was not part of our agreement.” said Wyatt. “I can’t help but think you were setting me up to be killed and were trying to create a little distance. Now I am going to ask you to tell me what happened and you better tell me the truth. If you lie I will kill you and bring your head back with me to Chicago so I can get my fee. Now talk.”

  The cold hard metal of the gun’s barrel slid slowly out of his mouth without ever changing its aim from directly in his face. Wyatt held the gun back six inches from his face and stopped it there.

  “Wyatt.” said Duke immediately being met with his captor pulling the hammer of the gun back and locking it into place. “I... mean... Mr. Houston. I ran because I went back to my house and it was full of blood and my security guard was on the ground beaten senseless. You came to kill me. I had no choice.”

  “You were out last night?”

  “Like you didn’t know. You sent that woman to seduce me.”

  “What woman?”

  “The one with the green eyes. You were setting me up. Why you could not have just killed me when you had the first chance.”

  “I didn’t send any woman for you but when I went to check on you I met another man there. He was looking for you too. She must be with him.”

  “Then who the hell is he?” asked Duke taking his eyes off the gun and looking up at Wyatt.

  Before Wyatt could say a word a sound came from the doorway that now had three people standing in it.

  “If you must know my name is Michael Falau.”

  Chapter 27

  “Well who the hell are you!” snapped Duke seeing Falau, Gabriela, and Tim closing the door behind them.

  “We are the ones who are going to save you from him.” said Falau pointing at Wyatt.

  “I figured we were on a better basis than that. Please call me Wyatt or Mr. Houston.”

  “You can forgive me if I am not so fond of you. Getting shot by someone will do that to a guy.”

  “I almost forgot about that. My little Derringer can pack a wallop for its size. Now this one I have in my hand is a 357 magnum. It will just blow your good friend Tristan Duke’s head clear off.”

  “Well, that would be a waste.” said Falau getting to within ten feet of Wyatt and Duke.

  Gabriela moved forward on the far side of the bed creating a perimeter that would cause Duke or Wyatt to have to clear the room through them.

  “I can kill him.” said Gabriela maintaining a level tone in her voice and having it void of emotion.

  “Hold on.” said Falau lifting one arm toward her as if to ask her to stop.

  “I am just saying I could. Just give me the word and he is dead before he could ever pull the trigger.”

  “Well, well, well. The little lady has some balls on her. Talk is cheap sweetheart. You toss out a challenge like that you better be able to back it up. Don’t think because you’re a woman I will not shoot you where you stand.” said Wyatt.

  “Mr. Houston my name is Tim. I think I can help in this matter.”

  “Who the hell brought their grandfather?” snapped Wyatt.

  Tim felt his cheeks get flush with anger. He kept his focus on the cowboy controlling the rage he wanted to let loose. As a younger man he would have been over the bed and on his arm with the gun before he could see what was happening. But now his speed was slower and reflexes a step behind. Learning to use his head to control situations over his brawn had kept him alive for quite some time and this time would be no different.

  “Mr. Houston, insults will not help us come to a satisfactory solution to the problem.” said Tim attempting to get to a more amicable resolution. “What exactly does Mr. Duke have to do with your work?”

  “I am here to collect a debt from Duke that he owes to my employer. Ten million dollars he took from them and did not pay back. I came to him and gave him two days to make good on the debt. That’s when I ran into Falau at his house, the first time we both wanted him.”

  “So you’re not here to kill him?” asked Tim.

  “No. Well if I don’t get the money I kill him. But my job is get the money after that I have no use for this guy. I don’t know if my employer feels the same way. My guess is they may want to stay out of the papers with killing a high profile guy like him.”

  Tim opened his hands wide like he was welcoming in Wyatt. “That’s great. We want him alive too. Our employer would like us to bring him back to take care of some other debts he has. Maybe we could work together and find a solution to this problem. We get your money for you and we take him home.”

  “Why the hell should I trust you.” said Wyatt waving the gun toward Tim and the others.

  The movement of the gun off him was all the opening that Duke had been waiting for. He reached out with both hands and grabbed the gun and Wyatt’s wrist at the same time. Instinctively Wyatt pulled the gun toward himself trying to break the grip that Duke had on him. The gun fired with the movement causing Falau, Gabriela and Tim to drop to the floor. A second shot was fired as Duke bit hard into the wrist of the big man and could taste his blood running between his teeth.

  Wyatt screamed in pain and fired the gun one more shattering a mirror that was hung over the headboard of the bed sending shattered glass falling onto the bed and ground like snowflakes in a blizzard. Gabriela was pelted with the shards of glass and pulled herself under the bed attempting to get closer to the target and cowboy.

  Wyatt swung his arm back in the opposite direction forcing Duke back into the chairs and table. Pulling back his opposite hand he swung hard while placing a foot behind his
feet. The punch landed in Duke’s stomach causing him to flip over the cowboy’s foot and land on his back between the chair and table.

  Seeing his gun lying on the floor ten feet away he moved for it reaching down.

  At the same time Duke made a break for the door and vaulted over Falau who still had his head down between his arms expecting more gun fire. As his head lifted he looked over the bed and saw Wyatt coming out of a crouch and pointing the 357 magnum in his direction. He dropped again not realizing that just a foot behind him Duke was getting closer to the door.

  Wyatt aimed the handgun at his target. At this range the 357 was a kill shot if he were to hit him in the torso or the head. Wyatt aimed center mass that is directly in the center of the chest.

  Gabriela had moved closer to the far edge of the bed and watched as the cowboy reached down and picked up the gun before she had got to it. He was moving quickly and that could only mean he was going to shoot again. She had no idea who the shot was going to be aimed at but it didn’t really matter. In her eyes and the eyes of the mission there was only one expectable casualty in the room and that was Wyatt Houston.

  She placed her left foot firm against the post of the bed and pushed herself forward in an instant. Her hands grabbed against Wyatt’s leg and she pulled his legs out from under him. The 357 magnum fired an errant shot that had lost all its aiming by Gabriela’s instant maneuver. Wyatt fell hard on his back but kept the gun firm in his hand. Looking to the side he saw Gabriela face down holding his legs.

  “You fucking bitch!” he barked at her filled with rage. He lifted one leg from her grasp and seeing that she was trapped face down with half her body still under the bed he drove the back side of his boot heel down into her back. Without any knowledge of her injuries, he had made a direct hit on the broken ribs she had been caring for. The adrenalin stopped the pain she felt moving under the bed but the solid heel of the boot over matched any adrenalin she could have had. She screamed out in pain as the broken ribs pushed inward puncturing her already fragile lungs.