The Falling Down Manby James M. Lally

Mystery

Thriller

Novel

ISBN: 978-1-934614-10-5

Upon his wife's death, a lonely old man's memory is stirred and a past he had forgotten spurs him to action. A dead man tells tales and he listens closely.

He begins a hunt to unravel a mystery that involves his own past.

With the intensity born of 'that need to know' he pursues the trail of a criminal who is involved with spies, and in the process identifies a network of trained killers. Who were they after, and why? And what world power was behind it all?

An old friend urges him on with a motive of his own: to find a ghostly figure from their past - an OSS operative, the man they call 'the Prince' - who may have the answers to their questions. An old killer becomes the key.

As the hero realizes there is more to the game then he thought, he carries out one last act...and does something he swore never to do again.

EPPIE FINALIST

"...The author takes the reader on a fast paced ride in a tale that is multi-layered and emotionally charged. Conspiracy theories are woven into an unblinking look at war and man's many inhumanities. The tone is often rather melancholy as Tom examines the choices he has made in the past and how they continue to impact his present and future. The dialog is crisp and authentic. The quirky secondary characters are well developed and add to the suspense.

Mr. Lally is a masterful storyteller who deserves a wider audience. I wish him all the best in his writing career. "

~Roberta for Murder and Mayhem bookclub

Peter was at the door. “Chief, you forgot this.”

  He tossed my sidearm to me. I slid it into my belt. My hope was I wouldn't need it. I returned my concentration to the old man. I watched his eyes. He was blinking, irritated but too woozy to cope. I motioned toward Johns. We lifted the chair and moved slowly, grunting under the weight, until we had him on the patio. We transferred him to the old chair and I tied him down securely. I climbed up on another chair and tossed the rope over a beam and we hoisted him up. Then we tied the chair off against the post. I took the blanket from the bedroom and cursed. It was very brightly colored. I stood on the chair and draped the blanket over him. When I jumped down, the colors had faded into dark shadow. It would have to do. Time would tell.

  We dashed back; the fireplace was a bright inferno of light and heat. We didn't attempt to gather anything, I checked only that I had the notebook and the tape recorder and my weapon. Into the garage, we cautiously opened the door and then half crawling, half duck walking, we reached the gate. Ying was on the other side.

  “They are all over. Damn, they are moving fast. They almost nailed me. They had me spotted, could have taken me. But I got through.”

  We moved, nearly bent over, half squatting, trying to stay concealed but hurrying. Finally, under that damn beautiful moon, we reached the gully. I signaled to stop.

  “Peter and Paul. Keep moving. About three hundred meters ahead you'll see another gully, running off this one. Go up it about twenty-thirty meters. Hide yourself and wait. Ying will come and get you. If he doesn't show up in an hour, follow the gully then use your compass. Do not expose yourself. Get to the airport, go the main route out. But keep still, no noise. Johns, stay here, hide behind the scrub on the edges. Same thing, if we're not back in an hour, you follow them out.”

  Johns cursed “What the fucking hell is going on? You're changing the game. The goddamn original orders are clear. We can't risk this!”

  “Obey orders Johns. Ying, lets go.”

  Ying was surprised when I pointed back the way we had just come but he moved. He carried an evil looking submachine gun as he moved in an awkward, crab-like, motion down the gully. I followed.

  When we were about seventy meters from the house I stopped him and we crawled up to the lip of the gully and positioned ourselves behind some scrub. I was breathing hard, my heart was pounding, I was sweating and felt fatigue draining my muscles, especially my legs. Ying scanned the area ahead of us and turned to me.

  “What now?”

  “We sit and watch. Everything! You are trained in it all and I need your opinion. No action! Just watch.”

  He put his weapon down and shook his head. “I am not a goddamn target for anyone. You want me to be a target?”

  “No. They will not get close. If they do, if they fire, return it but only then and only so we can get the hell out.”

  “All right. I'll buy that.”

  We lay still and stared. We knew the damn shadows had enemies who could rear up and leap out at us. Every shadow became an enemy and there were too damn many shadows. We stopped thinking about it and sucked in our breaths and waited for the shadow that would leap.

  Ying's voice was a simple soft caution, “You are not in shape for this. You're breathing too hard. You have any of those pills?”

  I fumbled in my pocket and drew them out.

  “The one with the plus is strong, thirty-six to forty eight hours. The one with the minus, six to eighteen, depending on your chemistry. The other one will kill any kind of pain there is. At least for twenty-four hours.

  I massaged the pills in the palm of my hand with my fingertips, trying to identify the one with the minus. I had trouble identifying them. I finally held one in front of Ying and asked: “Is this the minus?”

  He glanced quickly. “Affirmative.”

  As I forced the pill down he whispered, “And here they come.”

  I stared at the shadows and saw nothing. Then a shadow moved, then another. Dark silent dark shapes, unidentifiable as men, but moving with purpose. Then a terrible silence.

  Ying whispered. “They are in position. A few more seconds they will all assault the place.”

  We waited, looking but not really seeing. And it struck me. Peter and Paul, go about my bidding. Go do the devil's work in the dark of night. I must have chuckled at the irony of it for Ying had raised his fingers to his lips for silence.

  Suddenly there was an enormous, overwhelming flash. It was soundless, just the flash then blackness. Ying had expected it and shaded his eyes, so he could see. I couldn't yet.

  “They're inside now.”

  There were two low throaty growls, a strange sharp noise and then silence. The windows lit up again. It was an enormous explosion from the sound of it. Then, drifting across the night air, guttural sounds, short, harsh, and the sound of feet running. Everywhere I looked shadows darted in and out. My God, a damn fucking division of men.

  Ying had lifted his weapon, was pointing it, still, poised. He was a rock, lit by moonlight, watching shadows move. And then there were harsh shouts and that no matter the language were immediately recognized as the orders of an NCO. It was a military operation.

  I whispered to Ying. “Don't move. They are trying to figure it out. If we are lucky, they'll withdraw and I'll have bought us some time.”

  I suddenly felt alive, totally alive. Every nerve ending was responding. The little pill had kicked in.