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

Ben Doyle staggered from the doorway, his arms flailing as he protested. He stopped before tripping over a chair.

“What the hell?”

“I should be saying that to you, Ben,” Misty Watson said. She stepped around Mason and approached Doyle.

Raven shut the door.

Misty folded her arms. “Take a seat.”

Ben Doyle’s furtive glance shot between Misty and Sean and settled on Raven. “Who is he?”

“He’s a rookie in training,” Misty said. “Don’t worry about him.”

Raven stayed by the door with his arms at either side. She’ll pay for that later.

“I need a drink.”

Doyle moved away from Misty to a corner bar and filled a glass. Raven glanced around. Doyle liked dark colors. None of the furniture, drapes, or paintings contained any brightness.

Misty said, “Sit over there,” and gestured to a corner dining table. Doyle glared at her but obeyed. She joined him on the opposite side. Raven and Sean moved closer.

Raven didn’t plan to interject unless Misty went sideways with her questions. Misty insisted—on the elevator ride up—she take the lead because Doyle was used to her. Raven didn’t see a reason to argue.

“What do you want now?” Doyle said. “This isn’t how we usually do business.”

“It’s an emergency, Ben.” Misty rested her arms on the table and folded her hands.

Doyle swallowed a gulp of his Scotch. “Okay.”

“You’ve been holding out on us, Ben.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Why the silence about the man in Berlin?”

“Who?”

“You know who, Ben.”

“I haven’t done any business with anybody in Berlin.”

“Hugo Schrader? The name means nothing to you?”

Ben Doyle’s face blanched.

“You are holding out.”

“I’ve done business with Schrader in the past but not lately.”

“Your reaction says otherwise, Ben. Come clean or we take this elsewhere.”

Doyle said nothing.

“I’ll plug you into a chemical cocktail,” Misty said, “and you’ll tell me everything I want to know. Then, our deal is over. I’ll throw you in a van and we will transport you to the UK where you’ll never see the sun again.”

Doyle laughed. “How long have you been waiting to give me that speech?”

“I’m not fooling, Ben.”

Doyle sighed and set down his glass. “Yeah, I did a deal with Schrader.”

“How long ago?”

“Couple weeks.”

“You didn’t think we needed to know?”

“I didn’t have anything to tell you!” Doyle insisted. “It was a straight deal for small arms. Bunch of guns, ammo, and explosives. I had no idea what their intentions were.”

“You could have said something anyway, Ben. Makes me wonder what else you haven’t told us.”

Doyle left the table. Sean turned his body to track Doyle to the bar where he refilled his glass. Doyle leaned against the bar.

“It’s in my files,” he said. “Schrader contacted me through his usual representative, a man named Speidel. I didn’t send the guns to Berlin. I sent them to Greece instead.”

“Who was the contact in Greece?” Misty said.

“I have to look at my files.”

“Something wrong with your brain, Ben?”

“No, Misty,” Doyle said. “I write things down so I don’t have to remember them. You should try it sometime.”

“Get your files, Ben.”

“This is rich,” he said, laughing. “I’m getting out of this business. Turning everything over to one of my associates. I’m going to relax and run this hotel.”

“We saw you in the bar.”

“Then you saw the demise of my involvement in the gun business.”

“Well,” Misty Watson said, “you may be done with the gun business, but you aren’t done with us. We’ll still expect information from you on a regular basis.”

“Going to be a bit difficult.”

“You’ll find a way. Files, Ben?”

Doyle set down his glass. He looked at Raven and Sean Mason. “You two want to come along?”

Raven and Mason followed Doyle down a short hallway.

Doyle provided a spiral notebook open to the appropriate pages. The names, dates, and shipping locations corresponded with the deliveries ordered by Sebastian Speidel.

Misty took the notebook, said, “Toodles, love,” and led Raven and Mason out of the penthouse. As Raven pulled the door closed behind them, he looked back. Doyle stood fuming. The gun seller was getting off easier than had Raven questioned him alone. With MI6 hooks still in his hide, maybe he’d have preferred the rougher treatment.

The elevator car descended. Raven pulled the notebook from where Misty had it tucked under her arm. She said, “Hey,” but he ignored her. He scanned the page.

“We can go over this in my room,” he told her.

“You buying dinner?”

“The CIA is buying dinner.”

Sean Mason cleared his throat.

“Sorry, mate,” Raven said. “Go report to HQ or something.”

“I see how it is,” Mason said.

“Mind your own business,” Misty told him. To Raven: “If the CIA is buying, does that mean—”

“I will buy the most expensive bottle of champagne on the menu.”

“You might annoy me, Sam, but you sure know how to make up for it.”

Raven grinned and handed back the notebook.

It would have killed the mood to point out buying dinner from the hotel put money in Doyle’s pocket. Raven decided not to mention it. He’d handed over the notebook, hadn’t he?

Raven’s room didn’t have a dining table. Instead, he and Misty sat next to each other at the work desk jammed against the wall. The house special of the night was salmon, garlic mashed potatoes, and fresh vegetables with a lemon butter sauce. Misty thought there was too much lemon; Raven found it perfect.

Champagne with salmon might make most foodies cringe in terror. Misty didn’t mind breaking such rules. Raven accommodated as promised with a 2006 bottle of Krug Brut costing $300 US.

Misty attacked both food and champagne. After downing her first glass in nearly two swallows, she took her time with glasses two and three as she ate.

Doyle’s notes displayed minute details. Schrader’s rep, Speidel, ordered eight assault weapons, and eight sets of C-4 explosives. Doyle had shipped the contraband to Greece two weeks earlier.

Doyle listed an import company called Stathoti Logistics as the receiver. He’d addressed the shipment to the attention of one Stavros Stathoti.

“His name ring any bells?” Raven said. He scooped up some mashed potato, added a piece of salmon, and ate.

Misty mumbled “no” through a full