FALLEN | The Devil of Caracas

Chapter 25 | A Calling From God

Perez pours more whiskey into the glass. He takes a deep breath and lets out a long sigh as he gently sets the bottle down on the desk. Then, raising the drink to his mouth, he drains the alcohol. With a loud clack, Perez slaps the glass onto the desk and grits his teeth as the burn works its way down into his body.

Across the desk sits his wife of thirty-six years. Claudia Perez leans forward with her elbows on her knees and her delicate hands balled up under her chin. Her eyes stare at the, now empty, glass in her husband's hand. The couple sits in silence, mulling over their new situation.

Finally, Claudia speaks. "What do we do now?" Her voice is steady and low. There is no fear, but rather clarity in her tone.

Perez shakes his head. "I don't know, mi alma."

"Is it safe here?" Claudia asks. "Do we need to leave Caracas? Or even Venezuela?"

Perez considers her questions. "No," he finally replies. "We won't let them win like this." He then leans back in the high leather chair and looks around the room. The study is incredibly ornate. Its previous inhabitant spared no expense when building the mansion. "And besides, we'll be safe here,  in this house - for now."

Claudia leans back in her chair and takes a look around the room as well. She lets out a sigh and folds her arms. "I don't know about this," she says. "This house gives me the creeps, considering its history. I feel like we're bound to the same fate as the last family who lived here."

"Mi alma, don't talk like that," says Perez. He looks at his wife, intently.

Claudia stands from her chair and begins pacing. "Diego, we need to come up with a plan. If the CIA really wants you dead - which I find that hard to believe - you need to find yourself stronger allies. But, if I'm right... I think that girl was playing you." She stops her pacing and turns to face her husband.

Perez stands and walks toward her. "What do you mean?"

"Well... consider there's something else happening. I mean, think about it; none of this makes sense. Why would the American's do everything they've done for you and then suddenly try to kill you? Something else has to be going on here!"

"Claudia," starts Perez, "I don't know what's happening, but what I do know is that the American's don't care what happens to us; we're just pawns in their game - just a means to an end. Whatever they've got planned, I'm going to find out, once we've got their case officer in our hands."

"But what about your security?" asks Claudia. She raises her voice and steps toward her husband. "They give you six men to keep you safe and then you kill them?! Are you out of your mind, Diego?"

"You weren't in that room!" Perez shouts. "I felt it. I saw it in her face. I know she was telling the truth! How could I trust those men, after finding out their handlers are trying to murder me?!"

"Diego, you're paranoid!"

"Don't!" he screams, pointing his finger at her. He steps closer and then lowering his voice, he growls, "Don't you ever call me that again. Claudia, our country has fallen into wicked hands. Between the slums and the politicians, they are all corrupt and vile. When I replace Rodriguez, I will finally crush those bastards. I will cleanse the streets, because I am the hand of God and He will justify me!"

They stare into each other's faces as his words linger in the air. He straightens his posture and gently places his hands on his wife's shoulders. "Mi alma," he whispers intently, "you know He has called me to do his work. He has called me to save our people. Since the day the Holy Spirit visited me, I have always known I was doing the right thing... Do not lose faith in me. I need you by my side."