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

She didn’t.

8

He couldn’t break the habit.

As Dante Horn parked his car in his reserved spot, he took a last look in the rearview mirror. He’d colored his hair the day before, and he ran a hand through his hair to make sure the color was uniform. He knew it was. He paid to make sure. But he was self-conscious about the process and always checked after each coloring session.

The pitfalls of getting older.

Horn left the car and locked it with the key fob. He was a few months away from 50 with a solid build on his six-foot frame. He still looked good. He could catch the 20-something babes if he wanted. The 40- and 50-somethings wanted a shot, but who had to bother with them when the younger ones lined up too? But the appeal didn’t settle his anxieties.

His career in the US military had been stellar. Most of his service had been in special operations. Green Berets in the army, then the classified Special Missions Units of the Defense Intelligence Agency. He was too good for the CIA paramilitary units. Screw those guys.

The digital clock on the wall of his office read 8:59 when he set his briefcase on his desk. Black River Headquarters operated within a multi-level steel and glass structure off Turnhoutsebaan. The building overlooked Rivierenhof Park in the center of the city. The sea of trees and grass from the wide window of his office always brought a sense of calm to a busy day.

His secretary entered with his coffee. She wore a blue suit with her blonde hair tied back and she didn’t look at him as she set the coffee on his desk.

“Mr. Yarvis is on his way,” she said, turning to exit. He said OK and picked up the coffee. There was no reason to sit until John Yarvis arrived. Horn stood by the window looking out at the park.

“Dante.”

Horn turned. John Yarvis waited in the doorway. Yarvis’ big bulk required tailor-made suits. The gray suit he wore fit perfectly on his frame. He always made Horn shrink internally. Yarvis didn’t need to color his hair. He did fine with women. He was Horn’s number two but could easily sit in the big chair if he ever decided to push Horn out of the way.

But they’d served together. Horn didn’t truly think his friend would ever betray him.

“Sit down,” Horn said. Yarvis eased into the chair in front of Horn’s desk. Horn sat and put the coffee cup in front of him. “What’s up?”

“She wants to talk to you.”

“When?” He didn’t have to ask who she was.

“Now. She’s waiting on the secure link.”

“Might as well get it over with,” Horn said. He turned on the large screen monitor on his desk, which activated the web cam mounted atop. The camera was plugged into a small unit beside the monitor which scrambled the signal in and out.

Yarvis moved his chair behind Horn as the boss typed commands into the keyboard. Then a box filled the black screen. A moment later, a woman’s face filled the box.

Tanya Jafari.

“Dante,” she said, “we have a problem.”

“I’m listening.” Horn sipped his coffee.

“The Americans know about Operation Triangle and they’re taking steps to stop us.” She explained about the tragedy in Berlin and how she’d eliminated Stavros Stathoti. She told him about the dead CIA people in Syria. She was confident the Americans wouldn’t pick up further leads.

“What do you need from me?” Horn said. “I don’t see what role I have other than what we’ve already done.”

“Your people are in place?”

“Not only are they preparing as we speak, we have redundancies in place to keep the missions going should one team have to abort. You’ll get your money’s worth, Tanya. Even if you kill me.” He forced a smile.

“I have no intention of killing you, Dante. We cannot complete this mission without you.”

“I will set up defensive measures in case the Americans find their way here.”

“There’s only one you need to watch for.”

“Who?”

“A man named Sam Raven.”

Horn frowned. He exchanged a look with Yarvis. Yarvis only shrugged.

“Do you know him?” Tanya said.

“I know the name,” Horn said. “But neither John nor I have met him.”

“He’s dangerous.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Do not take his presence lightly.”

“If you’ve taken out Stathoti, there’s nothing else linking us to you.”

“Be ready in case.”

“Is there anything else, Tanya?”

“I’ll be in touch if anything else comes up.”

Tanya vanished from the box. Horn turned off the camera and the computer returned to its default desktop display.

Yarvis moved his chair back to the front of the desk.

“We don’t need a fight with the United States,” Yarvis said.

“I wouldn’t mind taking out a few US operatives,” Horn said.

“You need to pour a bucket of water over your vendetta, Dante.”

Horn scoffed and swallowed more coffee. His beef against the United States was well known to Yarvis and two other close associates. While accepting contracts from the Pentagon, Horn double-dealt with anti-US elements overseas. Via cutouts, he lent mercenaries to jihadist units in the Middle East. The mercs trained the jihadists on how to counteract US tactics.

He’d assured his freedom from capture or prosecution via blackmail of selected members of Congress. But the protection didn’t keep the Pentagon from cutting him off and making him a pariah in his former home.

It didn’t bother him much. Dante Horn didn’t have a family, and he liked Belgium.

“Look up this Sam Raven fellow,” Horn said. “Get a picture. I want people at the airport watching for him.”

“You think he’ll find his way here?”

“I trust Tanya took the required precautions,” Horn said. “But you never know.”

Yarvis promised to get a team to the airport right away. He left the office.

Horn sat with his coffee and stared into space. His deal with Tanya and her father put several million US dollars into his account. He hoped he lived long enough to enjoy the profits.

Horn’s mercenaries began preparing to put Operation Triangle into action.

They worked in