Lady Death Brian Drake (best ebook reader android txt) 📖

Raven set his fork down and called Clark Wilson.

Wilson did not answer.

“This is Paul Heinrich, Clark’s number two,” the man on the other end of the line said. “Clark is out for the day.”

“He deserves the rest,” Raven said. “I need a check on a name.”

“Okay.”

“Check out Stavros Stathoti of Stathoti Logistics in Greece.”

“Where in Greece?”

Raven consulted the notebook. “Piraeus. Port city five miles southwest of Athens.”

“Stand by.”

Raven glanced at Misty. She finished the last of her meal and emptied her third glass of Krug into her belly. She smiled at him with glassy eyes before her grin turned to terror. She covered her mouth as she burped. Then she laughed.

Raven rotated his chair away from her. She left the table laughing.

Paul Heinrich returned to the line. “Ready?”

“Listening.”

“He’s not a choir boy but we don’t have much on him. Interpol suspects Stathoti is involved in drug and arms smuggling.”

“No proof?”

“No. He’s not on anybody’s radar, either. He must work hard at not being noticed.”

“His life is about to change. Thanks, Paul.”

“Anytime.”

Raven ended the call. Misty was still laughing. Raven turned. She was half on, half off the bed.

“Are you done letting the air out of your head?”

She sat up. “What did your contact say?”

“To Greece, Watson!”

“Oh my god!” She bounced off the bed and came at him. She leaned over and stabbed at his chest with alternating jabs of her index fingers. “Why. Do. You. Always. Call. Me. Watson!?”

He blocked most of the jabs, laughing when she scored, and grabbed both her wrists.

“Rookie in training?”

She laughed. “It was funny, and you couldn’t say anything to stop me.”

She struggled against his grasp. He didn’t budge.

“Let go of me.”

“No.”

“Let go of me.”

“Make me.”

She pulled harder, her mouth open in a smile, her lips wet, eyes locked on his. He let her pull him out of the chair but held tight. He let go, spun her around, and gave her a swat on the behind before shoving her onto the bed. She bounced on the mattress, rolling out of the way before he landed on top of her. She laughed as she tackled him and forced him onto his back. She swung her legs over either side of his body, pinning his own wrists against the bedspread.

“How do you like it?” Her hot breath touched his face.

“I can smell your dinner.”

He didn’t struggle against the toned arms and legs holding him down. Her petite body wasn’t heavy. When she lowered her lips to his he didn’t resist either. It had been a long time since they’d been together, and he had to admit she hadn’t crossed his mind much. She was a casual fling, and he’d decided it was better to keep it as such.

She kissed him hard and pressed his head into the mattress. He couldn’t move and her lock on his mouth was too much. He wrenched his arms free and pushed her away.

“Hey!”

“You still kiss like a limpet mine.”

“You say the sweetest things.”

“Get your clothes off.”

“Is that an order?”

“Don’t make me tell you twice.”

“You don’t get the whisker biscuit so easy.”

“The what?”

She laughed and tried to kiss him again. He turned his head. She bit his ear instead. He let out a cry and shoved her. She rolled away and landed beside him with her head propped on her hand.

“Still think you’re giving orders?”

He grabbed her shoulder and forced her onto her stomach and delivered another solid smack on her plump behind.

“Hey!”

“You bit my ear.”

“It was there!”

Another smack.

“Ouch!”

“It’s big enough you’d think it wouldn’t hurt.”

“You ass!”

“No, yours.”

She lunged at him, almost shoving him off the edge of the bed. She let up to let him scoot back, and he grabbed her again and pushed her onto her back. This time he straddled her.

“Now what, hot shot?” she said. Her chest rose and fell under her heavy breathing. Her lips were wet.

Raven grabbed for the button and zipper on her jeans. She didn’t help. He tugged to get her pants down. She laughed.

“Lift your butt up.”

“No.”

“Dammit, Watson!”

She lifted her rear end and he pulled off the jeans with her underwear and then she helped him get the rest of her clothes off and his too.

5

Omar Talman rolled back the cuffs of his sweater. The sleeves were too long. The rest of the sweater was also too big, but the cuffs bothered him more. He didn’t want anything getting in the way of his gun hand should the need arise. At least the sweater was long enough to cover the selective-fire Glock 18C holstered behind his back.

He watched Tanya Jafari in the mirror. She fussed with the last of her luggage, struggling with a zipper, cursing. Omar went to help. She stepped back with another curse but Omar pulled the zipper closed. Then he reached out an arm and drew her to him. She leaned on his shoulder and sobbed.

News of her father’s death in Berlin had reached them quickly. The “disappearance” of Hannah had accompanied the report. Tanya knew the truth. Hannah had defected to the Americans and the Americans had killed her father.

“We can mourn later,” Tanya had said after the phone call. “Now we need to get ready to get out of Paris.”

But a day later, when they had to pack and leave, she obviously couldn’t keep her emotions at bay.

She sobbed without much noise and Omar said nothing. There were no words necessary. Anything he said wouldn’t help.

With a final sob, she pulled away. Tanya wiped her eyes. “I’m okay,” she said.

“I know.”

A knock at the door. Tanya ducked into the bathroom. Omar answered. Sila Kaymak, the Turkish assassin who had flown them out of Virginia, entered. He carried his two suitcases.

“All set?”

“Almost.”

The toilet flushed. Tanya exited the bathroom. Her face was still wet from where she’d missed drying, but she no longer looked upset.

“Is the car ready?” she said.

“It’s prepared,” Kaymak said.

Tanya checked out of the room via the television, clicking through selections with the remote to mark the end of their stay. Kaymak took the