Lady Death by Brian Drake (good e books to read .TXT) 📕

a stocky man with a goatee and wearing dark clothes entered.

“Storey?”

“Raven?”

“Name one of Clark’s kids.” Raven’s hand inched to the holstered .45.

“Daughter. Brenda. Looking at colleges.”

“In Wisconsin?”

“California.”

“All right.”

A blast of horns from the street stopped Raven’s next remark.

“Our cue,” Storey said.

“Out the front, turn left. Follow the sidewalk. Audi at the curb.”

Storey took the lead. He stepped outside first and looked around. He waved Raven forward. Raven and Hannah exited, and the trio turned left. They walked fast. Raven clicked the Audi’s remote key to flash the lights and unlocked the doors.

More indignant horn blasts. Cars jammed both sides of the street. Raven didn’t look back but heard yelling. Macedo’s voice with other voices yelling back.

Raven stowed Hannah’s suitcase in the trunk and the three of them slid into the quiet confines of the Audi. Storey took the back seat.

Raven started the car and said, “Macedo, fall back.”

More horns, traffic unmoving in the street beside them.

“How do we get out?” Hannah said. “We’re stuck.”

“We’ll slip out as traffic improves.”

“But we’re sitting ducks.”

“Yes and no,” Raven said. “Your father’s men are after you. Collateral civilian damage isn’t on the menu.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m betting your life on it, Hannah, yeah. I’m sure. They won’t risk a fight here.”

“But later?”

Raven shifted in his seat. He knew of two enemy cars they had to shake. Were there more?

A fight was inevitable, but if he had a chance at controlling the time and place, the odds might shift in their favor.

“That’s why we have Mitch,” Raven said. He glanced at the stocky man in the rearview mirror. “What are you packing?”

“Stainless Beretta 92,” Storey answered. “Twenty-shot extension mags.”

“Artillery may not be our biggest problem,” Raven said.

The horns finally stopped. Traffic began to move.

12

Macedo checked in.

“I’m hanging back a few car lengths.”

“How’s it looking?” Raven said.

Berlin at night was almost as busy as daytime. Headlights glared in the side and rear-view mirrors. Oncoming traffic contributed more visual chaff. It made watching for a tail tough. He had to watch for familiar headlamp shapes behind him.

“I think we have one,” Macedo said. “Can’t confirm but he’s staying with you.”

“Despite my evasive turns?”

“They’re good.”

“All right, stand by.”

Raven glanced at Storey, who turned to look out the back, then faced forward. He shook his head.

Hannah offered nothing but a nervous glance.

There might not be a way to follow Rule One.

He disconnected from Macedo and called Clark Wilson.

“What’s up?” Wilson answered.

“We’re hot. Safe out not an option. We need immediate extraction.”

Wilson cursed. “Hang on.”

Raven drove on. Using the center touch screen, he examined the GPS map for any open spaces where he could lead Schrader’s kill team. He wanted to try and control where the fight happened.

“I know a spot,” Storey said. “It’s an office park,” he added. “It will be empty this time of night.”

“Tell me how to get there,” Raven said, then held up a finger as Wilson returned.

“Sam, I can re-direct a plane from Switzerland, but the cabin will be full, and you can’t talk to anybody.”

“How long?”

“Two hours to Templehof. Hangar 3-A on the east edge.”

“Get them here as fast as possible. We’ll deal with our situation here.” Raven hung up and pressed the accelerator as he followed Storey’s directions.

He updated Macedo, who already knew of the office park location, and broke off to get there first.

“When we arrive,” Raven told Hannah, “I want you to get on the floor and make yourself small.”

She stuttered getting her reply out, but said, “Okay. I trust you.”

The sentiment did not brighten Raven’s outlook.

Raven made a sharp turn into the business park. Most of the buildings still had light shining through windows. Some were dark. Streetlamps spilled light across the pavement.

“What’s Macedo packing?” Raven said to Storey.

“Pistol same as me and an HK UMP.”

Macedo said in Raven’s ear, “They’re turning in behind you.”

Raven wrenched the Audi left and bumped the edge of a curb as he entered a parking lot. The lampposts didn’t help concealment. Their brightness made the Audi an easy target. Raven pressed the accelerator again. The Audi took off across the open space for a cluster of trees on the far edge. The light didn’t shine there.

“I’m on foot,” Macedo advised, “closing on your position.”

“Light ‘em up!” Raven shouted. He braked hard and threw the car into park.

Storey opened his door and rolled onto the pavement. Hannah crawled under the dash. Raven jumped out with the Nighthawk .45 in his right fist.

The lone enemy car closed the distance. Storey broke left, in a semi-circle, firing his Beretta. The nine-millimeter pistol snapped and flashed fire. The enemy car swung perpendicular to Raven, and Raven added the buck and roar of his .45. Windows shattered. The car peeled off. The staccato chant of Macedo’s Heckler & Koch submachine gun joined the chorus. Tires popped. The enemy car halted. Gunners piled out, four of them, each man swinging submachine guns to bear.

Raven charged; his eyes locked on the gunner who emerged from the rear passenger door. The gunner lifted the snout of his SMG into Raven’s face. Raven slammed the man into the car, pushing the SMG’s barrel from his face. The gunner’s strength became evident as he pushed back, slamming a knee into Raven’s gut. Raven ignored the flash of pain. The .45 barked twice. The gunner crumpled at Raven’s feet, leaving a smear of red on the side of the car. Dropping to a squat, Raven stowed the .45 and grabbed the gunman’s SIG Sauer MPX. The selector switch was set at full auto.

Raven stayed low as he moved to the front of the enemy car.

Storey, engaged in a ground fight with one gunner, looked to be holding his own. Macedo blasted one gunner while a second lined up a shot. Raven fired. The short burst ripped open the gunman’s back and sent him sprawling.

Macedo crouched to reload. Raven ran to Storey. The gunner rolled the stocky CIA man onto his back and drew a knife. Storey slammed the Beretta against the man’s head to