by Brian Drake
Macedo crouched to reload. Raven ran to Storey. The gunner rolled the stocky CIA man onto his back and drew a knife. Storey slammed the Beretta against the man’s head to no effect. As the killer plunged the knife toward Storey’s neck, Raven tagged him. The SIG MPX stuttered, the killer’s face imploding under the impact of the nine-mil stingers.
Storey threw the man’s body off him.
Raven held out a hand and helped the CIA man to his feet.
“Any holes you weren’t born with?” Raven said.
“I’m fine.”
Macedo ran over. He was thinner than his compatriot, wearing a North Face jacket. “We gotta scoot.”
“Let’s take my car,” Raven said. “I’d rather keep together.”
Raven ran to the Audi with Macedo and Storey behind him. When he opened the door, Hannah peeked up from the passenger footwell. The panic on her face faded when she saw Raven. The three men climbed into the car and she retook the passenger seat.
“Is it safe?” she said.
Raven laughed and sped out of the parking lot.
They waited in the Audi near Hangar 3-A where Wilson had arranged the pick-up.
Nobody spoke, and Raven’s thoughts raced with what he needed to do next.
He had to see Hannah safely away but wasn’t getting on the plane. He could not leave Berlin with Hugo Schrader still alive.
Raven needed to send a message to Tanya. Her father’s death by his hand would communicate everything he wanted to tell her.
She touched his leg.
“You’re not coming with us, are you?” she said.
He turned to her. She blinked as she watched him.
“No,” he said.
“I understand what you have to do.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
Was it? Raven didn’t want to press her further.
Presently the bright lights of a small jet shined on them, the idling engines filling the night. Raven and his crew exited the Audi. Macedo said, “Do you need the HK?”
“All my gear is back at the hotel,” Raven said. “Keep it.”
The CIA men grabbed their weapons and Hannah and escorted her to the jet. The side door opened, steps lowered, and the two operatives hustled her into the plane. Hannah looked back. Raven wanted to wave, but it didn’t seem appropriate. The steps rose, the door shut. The jet began to taxi away.
Raven stood watching as the plane traveled to the runway. He didn’t let out a breath until he finally saw it take off into the night sky.
13
Speidel ended a call on his cell. He looked into the smoldering gaze of Hugo Schrader.
Speidel opened his mouth but nothing came out.
“What?” Schrader snapped. “Tell me.”
“Raven had help,” Speidel managed.
Schrader locked his hands behind his back and straightened. “Explain.”
Speidel told him what happened outside Hannah’s apartment. Police reports about a gunfight at a business park told the rest of the story.
“No idea where they are now?” Schrader said.
“I imagine either a plane or a CIA safe house. Or a safe house Raven arranged for.”
Schrader nodded and moved to the French windows looking out on the balcony. They were on the second story of the house, and below the balcony lay the back patio.
Schrader looked out into the night, in the direction of the lake. Behind him, Speidel’s nervous heartbeat settled. Perhaps he wouldn’t be shot over the failure.
Schrader lifted his face to the ceiling and let out a sigh.
“Sir?”
“In a way, I’m glad,” Schrader said. He turned to face Speidel. “I know I gave the order, but knowing Hannah is still alive—” He stopped.
“I don’t understand,” Speidel said.
“Because you’re not a father.”
Speidel let a moment pass. Schrader added nothing further. “What do you want to do now?”
“The Americans may have failed to breach our servers, but Hannah won’t help them either. She left with Raven to get away from me. Meanwhile, Operation Triangle moves ahead.”
“Yes, sir,” Speidel said.
“But they may try to grab me,” Schrader added. “I want the guards ready for anything.”
“I’ll see to it now, sir.”
Schrader nodded. Speidel hurried out.
Raven drove the Audi back to his hotel. His cell rang several times along the way, but he ignored the call. It was Wilson calling to find out why he wasn’t on the jet. If he had found the answer with Macedo, Storey, or Hannah, he was calling to talk Raven out of his plan.
Raven was in no mood to listen.
He wanted to hurt Tanya. There was only one way to do such damage. Hugo Schrader had it coming. He’d spent decades financing death and destruction from the shadows. By proxy. Prison was too good for him.
In the hotel room, he ordered a small meal from room service while he prepped his gear. As he ate, he cleaned and oiled the Nighthawk Custom and reloaded the partially spent magazines. Next, he oiled and assembled the separate parts of his Colt M4 Commando. The automatic carbine had been hidden in the same X-ray proof suitcase compartment as his pistol.
There were four other tools of the trade in the compartment. Four high explosive frag grenades. He hooked them to a combat belt and set the gear on the floor. He needed a nap before the night’s action. Raven turned out the lights and reviewed his plan as he dozed off.
The suppressed M4 Commando kicked against Raven’s shoulder. The first of two perimeter guards dropped. His body landed with a thud, crunching dry overgrowth on the ground.
The second guard didn’t return fire. His back to Raven, he bolted, Raven’s follow-up double-tap missing. The guard dropped and rolled behind a tree. His panicked voice filled the night. Raven started running. The gunman was talking into a radio. Raven leaped over the fallen body. Pivoting as he landed, he raised the M4. The gunman’s message stopped short. His wide eyes took in the black-clad wraith standing over him.
Raven fired twice. The earpiece fell out of the guard’s ear and a muffled voice on the small speaker asked him to continue. Raven ripped the radio unit from the dead man and held the earpiece to his own ear. Whoever was on the other end kept asking for an update.
Raven dropped to a squat. He tried to penetrate the darkness surrounding him with a left-to-right scan. Coming upon the pair he’d killed was an accident. He hadn’t seen them in the dark forest surrounding Schrader’s property. The thick canopy of treetops above blocked out the moonlight. Shadows blended with tree trunks; various forest shapes filled his eyes. The ground held the danger of tripping over unseen obstacles.
He knew he should abort since the dead man had alerted his fellow troops.
But he had to proceed with the mission.
Raven left the body and jogged a few yards to another position, sliding onto his belly. He had to get through the section of forest before reaching Schrader’s home. Now the opposition knew they had a breach. His attack-plan was flying out the window and he wasn’t anywhere near the main objective.
He listened as the boss—the voice sounded like Sebastian Speidel—called for the gunner Raven killed. When he continued to not get a reply, he directed the force to search in pairs. He didn’t know where the two dead men had been.
It gave Raven the chance he needed.
He listened to more radio chatter from other gunmen as the force began their search.
He backed away from the tree he lay beside and squatted a moment. He heard boots crunching the forest floor as the search teams stalked him. Raven moved forward, a few steps at a time, using concealment as he advanced. He didn’t want another engagement so far from the house.
He scanned as he moved. He didn’t stare at any single space, but kept his head moving. He wanted to catch any movement not consistent with the environment. The forest shadows might confuse him in the heat of battle, but there were way
s to overcome the handicap.
Raven neared the end of the tree line where it met the property’s lawn. Raven looked around. The house was huge, many lights on within, with silhouetted figures near the front porch. Speidel, probably, directing the search.
A trio of luxury sedans sat in a line in the circular driveway. Raven stayed low as he followed the edge of the lawn. Most of the troop sounds were behind him, but then two shadows split and moved between tree trunks. Raven dropped flat. The two gunmen passed without noticing him. He remained in place until they had gone, but there were others, close by. He heard them whispering.
Then the radio burst with more chatter. Somebody had discovered the two bodies.
Raven hustled. Speidel shouted for his crew not to rush the area but to spread out in search of the intruder. Raven grimaced. Intruder. Singular. He thought Raven was alone. Raven wished he wasn’t.
Maybe he was making a mistake.
But there was no turning back now.
He kept moving.
14
The forest wrapped around the front and sides of the Schrader house. As Raven reached one side, he once again stretched out on his belly. The search party hadn’t branched out to this portion of the grounds. Speidel continued to direct from the porch. Raven shook his head. Naughty, naughty.
The wall sat about 20 yards away. Covered windows, trimmed bushes at the base. Raven broke cover and ran to the wall, stopping under one of the windows. He smashed the glass with the buttstock of the M4 Commando and lobbed a grenade inside. The blast lit the room and shook the house. A fire started. He bolted from the window and ran around the corner to the front. The trio at the porch, reacting to the blast, didn’t see him. He opened fire, the M4 spitting quietly. One gunner dropped. He shifted his aim to Sebastian Speidel, but the boss crashed through the front door. Raven’s burst missed. He tagged the second gunner in the chest. The man tumbled down the porch steps.
Raven rolled a second grenade under one of the cars, a Maserati coupe. He ducked around the corner. The explosion sent a wave of searching heat flashing by. The fireball lit the grounds. Two secondary blasts, the other two cars, joined the fray.
Raven reversed course. He ran around the back of the house, steering wide of the back patio stretching along the length of the rear. Thick smoke from the burning cars drifted across the compound.
The radio chatter in Raven’s ear was a stream of shouting and incoherence. Sporadic shots cracked. The troops were firing at each other, or at shadows, in desperation.
Raven reached the opposite tree line and took cover. He slapped a fresh magazine into the M4 Commando. The front of the house was ablaze now, the fire from the cars spreading to the structure. Raven used a tree trunk to block the glare of the flames. His eyes itched from the drifting smoke.
The side of the house Raven now faced contained the garage. Concrete curved from the garage door to the circular driveway in front. Raven faced too many troops for a frontal assault, but he could smoke out his quarry. When Schrader made his getaway, Raven would have him.
He tucked the carbine to his shoulder.
He waited. Anxious minutes passed.
Hugo Schrader’s body shook as he hid under his desk.
The study door crashed open.
“Mr. Schrader! Where are you?”
Speidel!
Schrader scrambled from his hiding spot and leaned both hands on the desktop.
“What’s happening?”
“It’s Raven! The front of the house is on fire, and one of the first-floor bedrooms is burning too.”
“The cars!”
“I know! We have to use the boat now.”
“It will only get us across the lake. What then?”
“We improvise.”
Schrader nodded. He wasn’t shaking anymore. He had a plan, a structure, a sense of order in the chaos.
“The easiest way out,” he told Speidel, “is down the wall.”
Speidel ran to the French doors. He pulled them open. Smoke drifted inside, enough to make him cough and step back. He issued orders over the radio to keep the troops looking for Raven.
Schrader joined Speidel on the balcony. Speidel climbed over the rail. He stood on the outer ledge a moment and stretched out a foot onto one of the stone steps running bottom to top on the wall. The steps led to the patio. From there, they would run to the lake and Schrader’s motorboat. It wasn’t a fast craft. Schrader used it for fishing. But with the cars destroyed, he had no other means of escape.
Schrader waited until Speidel reached the halfway point. He took a deep breath and climbed over the rail. His stomach lurched. He was two stories up. It wasn’t as if he was descending the side of his skyscraper office building. He’d practiced the escape many times, but never attempted the effort under stress.
Raven was out there with high-powered weapons.
Schrader would be a fly on a wall as he made the trip down.
Raven could swat him without breaking a sweat.
“Hurry!”
Schrader blinked. Speidel had reached the patio. He was still standing in the open. He was trying to show Schrader it was safe. He was being stupid. He should have taken cover.
“Sir, come on!”
If I slip, I’ll break a leg or worse...
Schrader inhaled deeply and reached a leg out for the nearest step. Then his other leg. Holding onto the adjoining bar installed beside the steps for stability, he started down.
Nobody fired at his back. His confidence surged. Resolve replaced doubt. Drifting smoke stung his eyes, but he ignored the discomfort. Another step. Another. Almost...
His right foot slipped. Schrader let out a cry as he shuffled for a hold, but gravity took over. He plunged to the concrete below and screamed.
Sebastian Speidel knew a broken ankle when he saw one.
The boss landed on his right foot, the ankle snapping. Rolling onto his side, Schrader tried to stifle another yell. He batted Speidel’s assistance away.
Speidel ignored his boss and grabbed him under each arm, hauling the older man upright.
“Lean on me!”
Schrader put his weight on Speidel’s left side, holding his right foot off the ground. He used his left as best as he could as the pair crossed the patio to the grass. The lake seemed so far away...
Speidel almost stopped as something buzzed over his head. Another buzz behind him. Suppressed gunfire! Speidel surged forward. Schrader yelled in protest.
And then Schrader’s body jerked and the older man fell from his grasp. A hammer-blow struck Speidel in the shoulder and he fell too.
Nobody exited the garage.
Raven looked up from the IR optic mounted on top of his carbine.
Where was Schrader?
A scream from the patio caught his attention.
Raven peered through the sight and swung the M4 Commando to the right. He laughed. There was Schrader on the ground, Speidel helping him up. Raven didn’t take the time to figure out how they reached the patio.
His finger tightened on the trigger.
A twig snapped behind him.
Raven rolled left. He stopped on his back and brought up his weapon in search of targets.
In the dark, his mind racing, he felt disoriented. But moving shadows presented themselves. He fired. The carbine stuttered. A gunner’s clipped yell signaled a hit. Raven shifted and fired again, another gunner dropping. Still on his back, he buttoned out the empty magazine and slammed home a loaded stick. He looked left, right, twisted his body in another direction. No further threats.
Rising, he re-acquired Schrader and Speidel. They were halfway across the patio. Heading for the lake? Raven didn’t care. He braced against a tree and fired single shots. Two missed. The third scored. Schrader dropped. The fourth took down Speidel.
Men shouted nearby. Gunners closing fast. Raven bolted across the field to the patio. He had to be sure. Even if he caught a bullet, he had to know he’d killed Hugo Schrader.
15
Sebastian Speidel rose to hands and knees. Pain filled his body. His eyed watered from the smoke and strain. Blood drenched the side of his suit.
Raven let him get no further. The M4 Commando spit twice. The 5.56mm tumblers ripped open the back of his head and he remained a motionless heap.
Schrader lay on his side. Low moans escaped his mouth. Raven used a foot to push the older man onto his back. He stared into the man’s pained face.
Schrader’s eyes looked blankly at Raven.
“Guess you’ll miss your party,” Raven said. “Sucks, don’t it?”
Raved fired once. Schrader’s body spasmed, then lay still. The man’s face relaxed. He’d met the end he’d caused for so many others.
Raven felt no remorse.
But now he had to escape.
Gunfire nicked at Raven’s feet as he ran.
Men shouted as they pursued. From behind, and on his right.
Darkness was his friend, the smoke from the burning house hanging thick in the air an ally. Raven was exiting the way he’d arrived. He needed to shake the gunners and get back to the hidden Audi.
Raven dived into the tree line. He had one grenade left and tossed it at the nearest gunners, those converging from the right. The other set was at the patio now, and both units would soon form one.
The grenade blast flashed brightly. Men screamed. Gunfire snapped. Raven ran. He had two enemies, the gunners and now the terrain. A fall like the one Schrader took would doom him same as it had the terror master.
Branches reached out like bony fingers. The uneven ground made balance critical, Raven sucking breath in surprise at the rise and fall of his sprint. He leapt over a fallen log only to land on slanted ground. He fell hard. The ear bud from the stolen radio popped out of his ear. Rushing boot steps and shooting told him all he needed. As shots nicked foliage around him, he knew they’d zeroed on his position.
