by Mike Gomes
The big man ran the blade down the side of the chair cutting the duct tape freeing Duke from the chair. Duke opened his eyes feeling the tape let go of its hold on him and began to cry harder than he had ever in his life. The joy of the man not killing him was overwhelming. The box cutter went back into the man’s pocket and the two men each took one of Duke’s arms and guided him into a standing position. Pushing him forward they led him to the door and down the steps. Tim and Gabriela were not far behind but Falau’s body had grown sore from all the fighting and a second round of Tim and his field medicine on his open wound. No cauterizing the wound this time. The plane had been equipped with medical items such as a needle and thread just in case of someone getting a cut that needed to be sutured.
Falau’s feet felt like lead and walking felt good but strained. Stepping out onto the first step of the G5 the heat hit him hard. It was easily over one hundred degrees. The sky lacked any clouds and the sun played the part of God’s flashlight after hours inside the dimly lit plane. Falau squinted and tried to adjust his eyes. The landscape was sparse but some trees were scattered about. Not quite desert but close. It reminded him of many of the southern Texas towns he had been to.
The wind blew the dust and sand hard causing them all to walk with their heads facing down. Falau did as all the others and picked up the step to catch up as the blood moved throughout his legs. By the time they hit the hangar door they all formed a group again. A familiar face inside the windowed door smiled out and pushed the door open for them.
The well-groomed man greeted them with quick embraces and pats on the back.
“This one turned into a hell of a lot more than anyone thought!” said Tyler attempting to say sorry in the most roundabout way. “I am very happy to see all your faces again. What you did on this mission was amazing.”
“We know that and you know that. Just make sure the judges know that so we get paid accordingly. This isn’t charity work.” said Gabriela hard and cold walking past Tyler. All of the connection to team was gone from her voice. Falau wondered if she didn’t want Tyler knowing about how the team came together and how she refused to leave Tim behind. She had to keep up appearances with him to keep her edge.
“You will be paid, Gabriela. Has the check ever bounced?” an irritated Tyler said.
Falau hugged his old friend and and grunted with the pain of it. Tyler pulled back keeping his hands on his arms. “You ok?”
“Got shot, and burned and kicked and punched and almost beat to death but other than that I am fine.”
“We have a doctor here. She can check you out if you want.”
“No, I am good. Just sore. Tim should be a field medic.” said Falau making the last part of the statement loud enough for Tim to hear. Tim looked over his shoulder from the group of men talking to him and smiled and pointed to Falau.
Tim was in his glory telling the story of the mission to friends that it looked to Falau like he had known for years. His smile was vast and expansive telling the story without saying a word. Tim had been back in the action. A place he has spent most of his life and even if it were just one last story he had a great one to share with his friends who were connected to the system.
“Ladies and Gentlemen if I could ask you all to go to your assigned positions now. We are going to start.”
Falau turned to see the older man he had seen at the other trials with the judges. He looked to be wearing the same older suit and had the glasses perched at the end of his nose. The gray in his hair took on more territory becoming more than just salt and pepper. The same belly hung over his belt and he looked just as tired as he did the first time their paths had crossed.
Everyone followed the man into the conference room that had Tristan Duke sitting at the front of it. A single light shined upon him. His ties had been removed but it was apparent he was not going to run anywhere. The group took seats. Falau, Tyler, Gabriela, and Tim sat in the front row in case of a need for questions to be answered.
“All rise.” called out the man as the door opened at the other end of the room. Everyone in the room other than Duke got to their feet to watch the nine judge team enter the room. They were dressed the same as Falau remembered from before. Long flowing robes that reached to the ground and covered their arms and hands. Hoods covered the backs of their heads and draped over masks that were just black and white with different faces painted on them. Falau felt like they resembled the comedy and tragedy masks seen in the theatres but somehow they were more stark and cold. By design they were meant to show none of the wearer’s faces. No part of the body of the judge was exposed in any way so identification was impossible.
The judges filed to their seats and sat down. One chair at the far end of the line was slightly higher indicating that that judge was the chief justice of this outlaw world court.
“We are here today to engage in the trial of Tristan Duke. Mr. Duke has been informed what this trial is about and how this court works. He has indicated that he is willing to work with the court in any way he can to right the wrongs he has done.” said the older man leading the trial. “He has been charged with theft of over 3 billion dollars. He is charged with the reckless endangerment of the lives of hundreds of thousands of people and their financial lives. He has been charged with targeting public service pensions and 401K such as teacher, fire, and police to manipulate them into investing with him. He is charged with criminal conspiracy after borrowing money from an organized crime family. These are the charges held against you Mr. Duke. How do you plead?”
The older man looked away from the three by five card he had in his hand and looked over the top of his glasses at Duke and waited for a response.
“I am guilty. I did everything you said.”
The room moved into a mutter at that shock of what the defendant had said.
“Order please. Order please.” said the older man bring the room back to silence and then turning his attention to the judges. The judge sitting higher than the rest extended his cloaked arm with a sheet of paper extending from it. The judge sat still and calm. The older man walked over grabbing the paper by its edge making sure not to touch the judge in any way. He put the paper down at his side and went back to the center of the room.
“All rise” the older man said again and the room followed his direction.
The judges stood up and filed back out of the room through the door that they originally came through without a sound or as much as a turn of their heads.
“Please be seated for judgement.” said the older man.
All the members of the system sat down and locked their eyes on the older man and Duke sitting several feet behind him. Duke’s fate laid on the piece of paper.
The man pulled up the paper and held it at arm's length. He leaned his head back and he looked out the glasses that sat at the end of his nose. His eyes scanned the words and then he read them again before speaking.
“A judgment has been rendered by this court and it is an unusual one. Mr. Duke you are being given an option due to your willingness to return all the money as reported by the team that brought you here and your plea of guilty. Your first option is death that will be doled out immediately. The second option is you agree to plastic surgery, never make mention of these proceedings and never acquire an income higher than the national average of the country you live in. You,sir, will simply slip away into nothingness and no longer be public in any way. Your decision sir.”
Duke shifted in his chair and opened his mouth to speak.
“Wait a minute!” barked Falau standing up and stepping forward. “I get shot. Gabriela gets her ribs broken and almost drowned. Tim is going to be pissing blood for a month from kidney damage and this guy gets plastic surgery and I new life! This is total bullshit!”
“Sir,. the question is before Mr Duke.”
“Screw Mr Duke. We did not go through all we did just to have you all let him off. We all know what he deserves!”
“Falau, sit down.” said Ty
ler looking up at Falau from his seat. “The judges made their decision and they base it on the case not what you went through.”
“This guy is going to walk after what he did to so many people?”
“The money will get back to them. We will make sure of it. We do not take killing lightly, Mr. Falau.” said the older man.
Falau’s jaw clenched and his hands formed into balls ready to punch as he looked hard at the man in the center of the room.
“Falau.” said Gabriela in a hushed tone. “It’s ok. Thanks for sticking up for us.”
Falau nodded his head and sat back down in his chair with frustration still filling his face. His eyes looked up to see Duke sitting across the room saying the words “I will take the plastic surgery.” To the older man.
Chapter 38
Reaching into his pocket he found the pack of cigarettes as his hand brushed up against the half empty flask of whisky. The flask was stainless steel and cool to the touch. It had been making its home in Falau’s pocket for the last week. Falau had only been home ten days.
The night terrors and flashbacks hit him like a ton of bricks now that the mission had been over. There was nothing to fill the empty times. Times that should have been seen as an opportunity to relax became the hardest times of all. It was a lot like men who see combat and can deal with it when it is happening. They usually do not crack under the pressure when the bullets are flying and the reality of death is a whisper away. It’s when they get home and off the battlefield that the Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) kicks in. Too much down time is not a good thing for the mind especially after being in highly intense situations like war.
The only thing that ever put a dent in the horrors of his mind and the images of Jennifer dying in his car was the whisky. It went down smooth and comfortable. It hit his head quick and he could pass out. The dreams still came but they were never as bad as the sober ones. Being sober was not thinkable. It was an impossibility he could not imagine at this point in his life. Life was much easier staying semi drunk waiting for the next mission so his head could be filled again and taken from the thoughts of Jennifer.
“Need a refill, Sweetheart.” said the waitress looking down at his half-filled cup of coffee and the cigarette pack sitting next to it. “You know you can’t smoke in here. But I will let you slide until Max in the back catches you.”
The waitress was a full figured woman of no less than 240 pounds. She wore an old style waitress uniform that was the desired apparel for the job. The knee high stocking showed their tops when she was walking with her feet out to the side like a duck’s. She was too old to still be waiting tables probably somewhere around 60. Falau smiled at her and she returned the smile with a grin missing two teeth.
“Thanks for the favor but I don’t want to get you in any trouble.”
“No trouble for you honey. You can do whatever you want and us waitresses will not say a thing to you.”
“Why is that?”
The large woman leaned in and whispered as if to be letting him know something that was top secret. “We all know about the $100 tip you gave.”
“Oh you do?”
“Ya. Understand I don’t expect the same but if it were to find its way to my pocket I would be overjoyed.” the large woman let out a strong laugh at her own comedy and filled Falau’s cup to the brim and walked away.
Falau looked over the coffee shop seeing nothing had changed since the last time he had been in it. It almost had seemed like the same exact people were in the room doing all the same things.
The small brass bell that hung above the door jingled out as the door open and Tyler walked in. As always he was in a suit and looking like he had fallen out of a men’s fashion magazine. Falau wondered how he managed to never look out of sorts no matter what the situation was. He looked like a million bucks in a rundown airfield in the middle of nowhere and just as good here in the middle of Boston.
“Hey pal.” said Tyler placing his hand out for Falau to shake it. Tyler hesitated uncomfortable that Falau had taken the seat facing the door. Tyler normally took that seat watching the room. Tyler was not used to being placed in a situation where he had to rely on others for his safety. He slid into the seat and adjusted himself to sit at a slight angle to take in more of the room.
“I have been waiting for you to come around.” said Falau.
“I have it right here. Your files.” Tyler placed a large envelop on the table and slid it across to Falau. It was the payment for the job in its usual manner. The denominations were $100, $50, $20. Most of the money was in $20 making it far less likely to be traced in any way. The bills were non sequential and were not counterfeit. There was no need to launder any of the money.
“I wasn’t talking about that. I have something for you.” said Falau reaching into his pocket and removing a small thin envelop and sliding it across to Tyler.
“What’s this all about?”
“Just open it and you will find out.”
Tyler lifted up the envelope and broke the seal on the back of it. He dug his finger in and tore at it. Popping the envelope open he removed two tickets to the Red Sox for tonight’s game. Tyler held the tickets and smiled while inspecting them.
“Just bleacher seats. All I could get on such short notice.”
“This is great. We have been talking about this for a while.”
“Can you make it? The game is tonight.”
Tyler could feel Falau testing their friendship and Falau knew he was doing a poor job of hiding it. Falau was desperate to know if their relationship was anything more than work or if they were friends.
“I was going to work tonight but that can wait. Going to see the Sox with an old friend will be much more fun than that.” The smile across Tyler’s face was infectious and Falau caught himself doing the same.
Tyler placed the tickets in his wallet and looked back up at his friend. “It’s a one o’clock start so we need to head over soon.”
“Sure. Just let me finish this cup and we can stop off at my place to put the files away.” said Falau patting his hand down on the envelope that Tyler had given him.
“You guys did a great job.” said Tyler dropping the volume of his voice.
“Thanks.”
“How is the arm?”
“Getting better day by day. Tim did some good work. Range of motion is on the way back. I should be ready for more work by the end of the month.”
Tyler looked away from Falau and searched the room. Falau could feel the difference in his dominion.
“I wanted to talk to you about that. Your outburst was not cool. Brought up some questions about you.”
“What kind of questions?” asked Falau leaning forward into the table with a more serious look dropping over his face.
“There was a question if you had been drinking before you came in. Gabriela and Tim were asked about it after and they said you didn’t have a thing on the plane. I said I smelled nothing on you.”
Cutting off Tyler Falau pushed his voice forward as hard as he could with a hush tone. “I was sticking up for my team. I was the lead and that didn’t stop when we got to that airfield. We went through a lot and to see that guy get the little bit he got was too much to take.”
“Everyone understands your feelings about the situation. You just can’t yell them out whenever you want to. There is a time and place. You could have spoken to me after.”
“What for? The results would have been the same no matter what.”
“Your right. It would have stayed the same but your temper got the best of you.” said Tyler leaning back and reaching into his chest pocket and removing a business card. “Now don’t freak out on me. The guys at the top are worried about you. They know about the drinking and they know about Jennifer. They think you could use some help.”
“Oh shit! What, a fucking shrink?”
“A doctor...psychiatrist. He can help and he understands the kind of work we do. Nobody is forcing you to go se
e the guy but he is there if you want to see him. All I ask is, as a friend, just take the card and put it in your wallet and don’t throw it away. Let it sit there forever if you want. That would be fine. I just want you to have it in case you ever change your mind.”
Falau reached out and took the card from Tyler and looked it over. “617 is the area code so the quack is in the city. Okay in the wallet it goes. So that’s the end of that right?”
“Not another word about it. In fact to show you that there is no resentment the first beers are on me at Fenway.” Tyler reached across the table extending his hand in friendship with a large genuine smile on his face. Falau returned the smile and the handshake feeling cared about for the first time in years.
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Also by Mike Gomes
The Falau Files
The Fixer
9 MM
White Collar (Coming Soon)
The Young Adventures' Club
The Young Adventurers' Club
Vertra's Revenge
Standalone
The Young Adventurers Club Box Set
THE FALAU FILES BOX SET BOOKS 1,2,3 (Coming Soon)
