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

but stopped moving. His body burned for a moment. He didn’t scream. He collapsed near one of the dead troopers and moved no more.

Raven leaped over the wrecked porch and slipped through the cottage doorway.

He ducked and dived for the floor as guns barked. He rolled left and bumped into a couch. Scrambling over the cushions, he dropped over the back. Landing on the hard wood floor almost knocked the wind out of him, and he gasped as he rolled again. The legs of a dining table stopped him this time. He rose and started to shoot, shifting the M4 side-to-side, firing blindly. The weapon clicked empty.

Raven dropped the carbine and grabbed his pistol. He stayed flat on the ground.

He tried not to think of the sudden silence outside. A chill raced down his neck as men yelled from the porch. They spoke Arabic. A woman’s voice from across the room answered their sharp exclamations. Raven rose to a squat and fired in the direction of the woman’s voice.

Two troopers rushed in. Raven pivoted toward them with the .45 in both hands. The Nighthawk spat a tongue of flame once. Neither fell. And then they were on him.

They pounded him with rifle butt stocks. The first, against his forehead, sent him spinning. He lost his grip on the Nighthawk. The second impact smashed his right shoulder. His face hit the floor. More blows landed but darkness overtook him. He felt nothing.

17

Raven’s vision spun, his head hurt, and his right shoulder throbbed.

Raven wiped his eyes and then frowned at his free hands and feet. They hadn’t restrained him. He was on a narrow bed in a small room. Before he took in more of the environment, nausea overwhelmed him. He vomited onto the floor but stopped mid retch. He wasn’t alone in the room.

They’d dragged Tiger Joe’s body in with him. Hayden’s body rested in the center of the floor. A neat bullet hole sat in the middle of his forehead, another dead center in his chest. His still-open eyes stared at the fluorescent lights above.

Raven let out a low wail and vomited more. When he stopped, he let his head dangle a moment to make sure he’d finished, then eased back onto the mattress. It hurt to breathe.

He looked around despite his shifting vision. Wherever he looked, things tilted left or right. Small room. Two beds on either side. Wall-length lockers behind him. Had they moved him into one of the barracks? The door to the room was shut. He tried to stand up and see if they’d locked him in but had no balance. He dropped back onto the bed.

They’d stripped him of his combat rig, pistol and knife. But a glance at Tiger Joe’s body showed they’d made a mistake. They’d collected his rig and pistol too but forgot the knife. Hayden’s K-Bar remained in its belt sheath.

How long did he have before the Navy showed up? His watch was gone too.

He lay there breathing steadily for what seemed like an eternity. Tried not to think of the corpse on the floor. After a while, he tried to move. With every ounce of strength he could muster, Raven rolled onto the floor. He remained on hands and knees a moment. He took deep breaths. His vision had stabilized a little, but he still felt dizzy. Inside his head, it felt like somebody was banging a drum.

He turned to look at Hayden. “Sorry, Joe,” he whispered. He reached for the K-Bar, unhooked the safety strap and tugged out the knife. The lights above flashed on the razor-sharp stainless-steel blade. He tossed it onto the bed. He crawled over to Hayden and closed the CIA man’s eyes with his fingers. “You were a good man to have in a fight.”

Sitting up, he put his arms on the mattress and rolled back, drawing his legs close. He stayed on his side and kept the knife concealed behind his bent knees.

His gaze settled on Joe Hayden again. How many more lives would Tanya claim before her reign of terror ended? What if the Navy failed? No. Raven pushed doubts away. Hold fast. He wasn’t dead yet.

With a jerk of alarm, he grabbed for his neck. Raven sighed with relief when he felt the locket secure around his neck. A favor from Tanya? Or had they missed it?

Time to make a plan.

His mind wouldn’t cooperate. The dizziness stayed with him. He lay in a daze and wondered what was coming next.

Tanya Jafari had won every battle so far.

How much longer would luck be on her side?

The door lock snapped.

Raven rolled onto his back. The dizziness had subsided. His head and shoulder still hurt, but he thought he could manage.

Tanya Jafari stepped into the doorway. She wore jeans and gray loose shirt with a Beretta pistol on her belt. Her hair fell onto her shoulders. She folded her arms and looked stoic.

Raven glimpsed a man behind her but didn’t see his face.

“You found me,” she said.

Raven sniffed. “You left a few threads uncut.” He spoke low, his voice cracking. His throat felt raw from the vomiting.

“Horn?”

“Yarvis.”

She shook her head. “Somebody always slips through.”

“Your whole life is a lie, Tanya.”

“No.” Her face flushed red. She straightened and pointed a finger at him. “My life is based on bringing justice to oppressed people. We’re the same, Sam. Only different sides.” She lowered her finger but still glared at him.

“Your father started this, Tanya. No random mob in Berlin is responsible.”

“What do you mean?”

“He had goons attack the families of your boyfriend and Francesca’s boyfriend. Then he groomed them to start the Islamic Union in the aftermath. They were tools to him. Means to an end. He manipulated all of you and you fell for every trick.”

“Who said this?”

“Your sister,” Raven said.

“She’s a liar. And since you killed my father, we can’t ask him, can we?”

“You know I’m right. Has part of you ever been suspicious?”

She flinched. Stoic became defiance and turned