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

darts from the board and stepped back. Another round. Caroline, with her three darts, wobbled in front of the board as she tried to aim and laughed. “I’ll fall over as soon as I throw this,” she said.

She threw the dart and indeed lost her balance. Horn grabbed her and held her upright.

“Hey,” she said, laughing up at his face, “what’s poking me?”

“Oops,” he said. He didn’t let go. She grinded her rear end against him. The soft plumpness of her rear end, with nothing between him and her bare skin but their skivvies, stirred desire in his lower region. He let her go. She licked her lips, then turned to address the board for her next throw.

At the end of the round, she lost. He told her to ditch the strawberries. She said no and reached up her back to unhook her purple bra. She pulled it out through one side and let it fall on the floor on top of her jeans.

The house shook with the unmistakable roar of large helicopters. Horn knew the sounds well. Caroline screamed and ran under a Foosball table. Machine gun fire hammered the house.

Horn jumped into his slacks but ignored his shirt. “Get dressed!” he shouted. Caroline stared at him with a blank face, but then it dawned on her it wasn’t time to get caught in her knickers. She moved quick to her jeans and pulled them on. She bundled the bra in her left hand.

More gunfire outside. A lot of gunfire.

“What’s going on?” Caroline shouted.

Flame flashed outside the wide window overlooking the detached garage. Horn dived at Caroline and forced her to the floor. He covered the back of her neck as the crack of an explosion followed. The window shattered. Chunks and glass whooshed into the room and peppered the floor. The heat from the explosion followed.

There go my cars!

“What’s happening!?” Caroline shouted as she squirmed under him. “Get off me!”

He moved away. “Come on. Get up, I have a safe room.”

“A what?”

“A safe room, come on!”

He pulled her to her feet and half dragged her to the other side of the den. A line of wainscoting divided the wall in half. Above, artwork. Below, blank space. He punched a combination into a small panel on the wall. A section under the center line slid open. He gave her a shove, but she dug her feet into the carpet.

“No!”

“You’ll be safe, it’s okay.”

Another explosion shook the house. All argument stopped. She dropped to her knees and crawled through the gap. He hit the combo again and the section of the wall slid closed.

She’d be fine. The room was lit, and a button on the inside would open the door in the worst-case scenario.

Horn turned away with a grim set to his face. There was a war outside and no mistake. The helicopters above the house continued their passes. His cars were gone, and with them his means of escape. His only remaining option was to run. They’d cut him down for sure if he tried.

His two bodyguards entered, both out of breath. They carried automatic rifles. One of them held two and passed the spare to Horn.

“What’s outside?” he asked.

Horn listened to their description and it meant only one thing. The Americans. And not Sam Raven playing solo. The entire CIA clandestine group was outside blasting their way in.

And he had no way out.

He faced a choice. He only had his bodyguards with him. The rest of his force wasn’t going to turn the tide. He could make a last stand or choose another option.

Surrender.

13

No.

Horn knew many things the Americans would want to know, but they’d never make a deal after his previous subterfuge.

“Let’s go,” he said. He pushed through the two bodyguards and took the lead out of the room. He didn’t care if he was shirtless. This was his endgame. He’d be blown to smithereens so it wouldn’t matter anyway.

Horn stopped at the corner at the top of the stairs. A line of American shooters approached the staircase. He brought the automatic rifle to his shoulder and pulled the trigger.

Somebody screamed and fell. The other four spread out. Two ran for the stairs. He ignored them. The narrow hallway restricted the movements of those who remained. Like him, they had nowhere to go. He charged down the steps, keeping low, his bodyguards firing overhead. Return fire cracked. Horn’s narrowing tunnel vision blocked most of the view, so he fired at the nearest threats. His weapon kicked and spat flame. He pivoted, fired, turned, fired another burst. One body fell. Somebody ran by on his left. He pivoted with the muzzle of his rifle tracking, then a series of punches smacked him in the back. They weren’t from fists, but bullets. Horn felt his body hit the floor hard. Breath left him. He tried to move and couldn’t. Then his darkening vision faded forever.

Raven rose from his squat and didn’t take his eyes off his sights.

His MK 556 chugged some more, and he shifted his aim with each burst. The two men at the top of the stairs tumbled down and stopped in a heap atop each other.

“Clear!” he shouted.

The stench of cordite hung in the hallway. Hayden joined the two CIA men on the staircase. Raven heard an agonized wail. He spun around and saw Misty bleeding on the carpet.

He ran to her as Tiger Joe began calling for more help. “One down!” he shouted. Raven didn’t think he meant the bad guys.

Misty rolled onto his side. Several of Horn’s slugs had punched through her leg and stomach. Blood trickled out her mouth. Her face was twisted in pain.

“Hold still,” Raven said. He slung his rifle and pushed her onto her back. She coughed and her body jolted, then settled. “Help is on the way.”

She breathed hard and fast, but at least she was breathing. Raven wiped blood from the corners of her mouth with his thumb. “You’ll be okay.”

Her eyes moved up and