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Lady DeathA Sam Raven Thriller

Brian Drake

Lady Death: A Sam Raven Thriller

Kindle Edition

Copyright © 2021 Brian Drake

Wolfpack Publishing

5130 S. Fort Apache Rd. 215-380

Las Vegas, NV 89148

www.wolfpackpublishing.com

This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events, places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced by any means without the prior written consent of the publisher, other than brief quotes for reviews.

eBook ISBN: 978-1-64734-555-6

Paperback ISBN: 978-1-64734-568-6

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Contents

Prologue

Part I

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Part II

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Part III

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

If You Liked This, You Might Like: Skills to Kill

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About the Author

Lady Death

Prologue

Number one goal: don’t drown.

Sam Raven swam slowly, taking his time with each stroke. He had a bomb on his back. The weight slowed his movement a little, but he didn’t want to rush. There would be time to hurry later. Multiple enemies waited on the shore. If he took his time, he might be able to reduce the number before the really heavy fighting began.

He lifted his head above the calm water. Another 100 yards, maybe. The chill of Markermeer Lake in the Netherlands bit through his wetsuit and was hard to ignore. It reached deep inside him.

Stay focused.

The target yacht was still anchored at the jetty. He swam a little harder to increase speed, creating more ripples in his wake.

He needed to plant the bomb first, then slip onto land for his secondary target. The house, 50 yards from the jetty contained five people who needed to die. Five people taking a rest from a killing spree, who had thus far evaded authorities. Raven didn’t intend to let them get away. Tonight, they’d learn the meaning of the word payback.

He reached the rear of the yacht and treaded water long enough to slide the backpack off his shoulders. Unzipping the pack in the water, he removed the bomb, two blocks of C4 and a timer enclosed in a thick plastic bag to keep the water out. He didn’t have the option of a magnet to hold the bomb to the yacht’s fiberglass hull, so he’d rigged a loop of nylon rope to the bag. He’d hang the bomb on one of the rear propellers.

Taking a deep breath, he dropped below the water’s surface. The mini light on his goggles shined a small circle on the belly of the yacht. He was closer to the left prop, so he slipped the nylon loop around a blade, tied a knot to make sure it held, and pressed the timer. The display’s greenish glow filled the dark water.

Five minutes.

He figured the five terrorists also had a vehicle at the house. He planned to remove the option from their escape plans as well. The house was in the middle of nowhere and they’d have nowhere to run except into his bullets. The city of Hoorn was miles away, but the bright lights of the city were visible in the distance.

For Raven, it was another night in his war without end, and he was a man made for war. Once he’d worn the uniform of the 82nd Airborne and 5th Special Forces Group. Later he’d traded his officer patch for the anonymity of the CIA Ground Branch. Now he was freelance. No uniform. No home.

It wasn’t the life he’d wanted. Raven had seen the worst the world had to offer and escaped for a quiet civilian life. Then fate dealt a cruel blow with sudden tragedy, and vengeance became his new mission. The only link to his past was the sterling silver locket around his neck. He never talked about what was inside, but it motivated his crusade. He pursued the world’s predators, those who created victims and heartache, to deliver justice one bullet at a time.

Like tonight.

Raven reached shore and stripped off his flippers and wetsuit. Beneath, he wore a skintight black combat outfit. Shedding his goggles, he reached into his pack for web gear and weapons. He shrugged on the assault vest and buckled it at his waist. A Nighthawk Custom Talon .45 autoloader went into the holster on his right hip. Spare magazines and grenades stuffed the pockets of the vest. His main weapon was a Colt M4 Commando in 5.56mm. The M4 Commando’s 11.5-inch barrel gave him a weapon the size of a compact submachine gun size with rifle-caliber punch. A suppressor extended from the barrel to make it a silent killing tool.

Lastly, he removed from the pack a pair of combat boots and laced them tight.

He studied the one-story house. To the right as he faced it, a line of trees created a dividing line between the house and the adjacent empty plot. The nearest neighbor was two miles away. To the left, empty space, cleared of trees and debris, until it met a section of tall grass.

Raven ran for the grassy lot, dropping prone within the tall strands. He began a slow crawl until his body was parallel to the house.

He peeked through the grass. Lights highlighted the exterior. They didn’t turn off, so they weren’t activated by motion. More lights burned inside. The kill team was up late. Planning their next hit? It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. Whatever they were doing, their

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