by Lynda Filler
Silk Road
A Code Raven novel
Lynda Filler
Disclaimer
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or deceased, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
© October 2018 Lynda Filler
Cover Photo Canstock
Contents
Disclaimer
Code Raven
Prologue
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
Acknowledgments
SPECIAL NEW RELEASE Book 7 THE ISTANBUL CONSPIRACY
Code Raven
Critical Recurring Main Characters in order of appearance in the story.
Himanish
- An ex-military Pilot for India. Joined RAW-Research and Analysis, the Indian secret service department. He covertly helped Samaar/Luci disappear by hacking into a South American Cartel’s Swiss bank account. He took 250 million US dollars and gave it to Luci and Alice to support their new life on the run. Himanish currently works for the UN Human Rights Commission in Geneva Switzerland, in a covert role he has created for himself.
Luke Raven
-Billionaire scientist, high-tech genius, history of working on US top secret projects, philanthropist, somewhat reclusive. He is a Patriot. He formed the Raven Group after his wife and seven-year-old daughter were murdered in the Bahamas. He will do whatever it takes to keep America safe.
Samaar (code name Luci)
-Ex-Mossad, once on loan to M16, assassin, in hiding from her ex-employers and a South American cartel after exposing their drugs/money/guns/CIA scam. She’s the sometime romantic interest of Luke Raven and sometime agent in the Raven Group. She currently resides in Paris with her four-year-old daughter Alice and a team of security provided by Raven to keep her safe.
Alice
-The four-year-old daughter of Samaar never knew her father an Arab Journalist murdered in the Middle East. Currently lives with her mother in Paris, learning to speak French and Arabic, already knows English, and Spanish from her life in hiding with her mother in South America.
RB
-Genius techie, security expert, inside crucial man of the Raven Group, and close friend of Luke Raven. They met at Caltech. Luke taught, and RB was his protégé. Luke and RB have an unbreakable bond. RB was there for Luke when his wife and daughter were murdered. When Luke formed the Raven Group, RB was the first person he recruited.
David
-Family to Zach, part of his Navy SEAL team, recently retired from the Navy, pilots Raven’s prototypes, joins the Raven Group and very active in Silk Road.
Zach
-Retired Navy SEAL, was involved in the takedown of Osama Bin Laden. He was born in Israel, his parents were professors (undercover CIA) in Beirut, killed there when he was a child. Zach is now full-time international operative for the Raven Group.
Maggs
-Ex-US Special Forces, Michelin trained chef, the only full-time woman in the Raven Group. Currently stationed in Paris with Samaar and Alice.
Prologue
Kyrgyzstan, Central Asia
T he winds echoed frightening events that were about to change the fate of a young woman’s life forever.
The remote farmhouse, wedged between mountain peaks, was heavy with late spring snow. Zaria struggled to force the rough-hewn door closed behind her. She pulled the frayed potato sack curtain back to take one last glimpse at her eight-year-old sister and her two younger brothers bundled up in the open back of the ancient truck.
Her sadness was particularly acute today because it was her fifteenth birthday. Her parents felt Zaria could no longer take the risk to be alone at school or leave the homestead on her own. Young women were often kidnapped when away from the watchful eyes of their family. So rather than take the risk of public school or wandering in the local village, her parents had decided she would remain on the farm to milk the cows and do the household chores. Unfortunately, it was a financial necessity that both her parents work for others on the farms several miles away.
Zaria heated the water in the kettle to make her tea while she fingered the pages of a used geography book she’d taken from school on her last day two months before. Her dreams of traveling a world no one in her village had ever seen were still what her heart desired when she laid beside her siblings on the mats at night. The girl took one last look at the map, then carefully cut a page from her geography book. She folded it and placed it in the pocket of her coat. A teacher once told her that if she focused every day on her dreams, eventually they would become real. But for now, she must stop her day-dreaming and clean the breakfast dishes, and prepare the bread, before doing her farm chores.
She hummed an Arabic melody her mother had taught her while the family sat in front of the fireplace in the evenings. Momma and Papa would tell stories of good times, before the revolutions, the riots and the changes in government, and also before the corruption of the drug lords. Momma talked of a life when food was plentiful, and their home was in good repair.
Before.
Years before Zaria was born.
Every morning after everyone left, it was her ritual to do her work then open her book and try to calculate different routes that the family could take to reach the open sea. Her momma said her name in Arabic means ‘ocean,’ and one day they would all make a journey to the vast waterway that could take them to Europe or even Australia.
She sat down for a few moments to drink her tea. She glanced at the book once more, but still, she could not imagine how magnificent it must be to see nothing except emerald waters and never glimpse land on the other side.
One day she would go, even if it would be by herself. It was her dream and her destiny. She could feel this in her soul.
She brushed her hair out of her eyes and tried not to be sad. Today she was very lonely with her family gone, but she set about kneading the bread and leaving it to rise while she fixed things in their small house. Their home was really only two rooms with no privacy from her brothers. Sometimes she was ashamed that they could see she was becoming a woman. In some ways, she longed for a family of her own. But not now, not until she realized her dreams.
She was a good daughter and would follow whatever her parents thought was right for her. And now, until she was betrothed, that meant staying here on the farm.
Enough of these thoughts. It was time to feed the animals.
Zaria bundled up in a threadbare coat that once belonged to her mother. She wrapped her head in a woolen scarf and pulled on thin-soled boots. Her sheepskin gloves were too snug, but she would have to wait for her parents to get new ones.
There was very little snow on the ground, most of it was ice. The wind had turned to rain and sleet, and Zaria could barely make her way to the barn one hundred meters from the house.
She kept her head low, her scarf pulled up over her face and imagined how the bread would smell while it baked after she returned from the barn. She trudged forward.
Suddenly she was tripping. She reached to break her fall, but a heavy black sack was pulled over her head and smothered her. She fought hard and tried to scream, but her words were lost in the burgeoning storm. She tried to move, but now her arms were pinned down. She kicked out, her foot made contact with her abductor. He screamed in anger, cursing her in Russian. He hit back hard. She was no match for his strength. As her whole world went dark, her last thoughts were of her family and how disappointed they would be. This voice did not belong to the man her parents had chosen for her to marry. There was no gentleness or kindness in her abductor. But it no longer mattered.
All her dreams were shattered. She must accept her fate. She might never see her family again.
Zaria had become one of many ala kachuu, kidnapped brides.
1
Old Town, Geneva Switzerland
T he Indian man enjoyed his walk up to the top floor of the eighteenth-century six-story grey-stone. He placed his key in an ornately carved wooden door, discretely reinforced in twenty-first-century one-quarter inch thick steel plate.
He hesitated before entering, casually checking an 8-point security system displayed on his phone. When he was sure his quarters were free from intrusion, he walked into his personal space.
He was greeted by his affectionate sable Bombay To’ak who sniffed the air accusingly.
“I know. I should give up my Gauloises, but I’m not perfect.” The cat gave in as she always did. Faced with the option of affection or disdain, To’ak still chose love. She wove her way in and out, rubbing up against her master's legs making it impossible for Himanish to move.
“All right give me a second.” Laughing, he gently placed his parcel on the table and bent down to stroke his affectionate companion.
“Tell me To’ak, how was your day? Any visitors? Hmm?”
To’ak purred like a freight train. Her master's sensual strokes would cause any female to melt.
“Nothing to say for yourself?” Himanish pulled a chunk of dark chocolate from his weathered bomber jacket and gave it to the queen of his castle.
“Rare creatures deserve the finest Swiss chocolate, right?” He gave one last stroke to her ebony pelt, then moved further into his living space. His eyes were always alert for any charge or change in the atmosphere. He and To’ak shared the sixth sense that had kept them alive throughout their years together.
Satisfied, the man turned off the interior security system and poured a glass of red wine from the bar. He waited to look at the mail he’d picked up at the bookstore down below. One of the highlights of his day was checking for handwritten letters he occasionally received from mostly bibliophiles around the world. Receiving his mail at the main floor bookshop was an extra level of precaution that prevented anyone from entering the levels of security lining his stairwell or accessing his home.
He carried his crystal goblet, pulled his laptop from his briefcase, and placed them both on an antique refectory table. His computer took a few seconds to boot up. After a quick check on his secure website, he could turn his attention to the rare Shakespearean tomes awaiting his attention wrapped in brown paper across the room. He sipped his wine and scanned. An alert in the system caused all thoughts of literature and letters to flee his mind.
“Damn, Ivanov again!” The notorious drug trafficker was very active recently. Something was going on, and Himanish would have to dig deeper to get more intel.
The clandestine operative for a very secretive branch of the United Nations Human Rights Council pushed his wine glass away and instead walked over to his chef’s kitchen and turned on his espresso machine. Italian coffee and reading classified documents, not dwelling on English literature were going to be his preoccupation this evening.
2
Paris, The 17th Arrondissement
O n a side street not far from Parc Monceau an elegant Haussmann townhome stood recently renovated to the highest twenty-first century standards. Its majestic elegance masked a myriad of high-tech security elements rarely found outside the offices of international intelligence agencies in the wealthiest countries around the world. Two women and a young child plus the occasional visitors were its principal inhabitants.
Luke Raven arrived from Canada before breakfast. The argument was on-going. But Samaar had to agree, she needed a break. She’d recently rescued Sabrina, the bride-to-be of the heir to the British throne, under harrowing circumstances in the Bay of Qatar in the Middle East.
Her intention, when she set up her home in Paris, was to retire completely. She had left her life as an operative for the Mossad, on loan to MI6. But then Luke had called. The Raven Group needed her.
First, she’d set up home in her favorite city in the world, Paris. Or rather Luke had overseen the reconstruction of the townhome. She loved the freedom she felt in the City of Love, the sidewalk cafes, the markets, fresh fruits, the early morning vendors hawking fish. She often roamed her neighborhood stopping in bohemian boutiques, looking at feminine lingerie, imagining she was someone other than a highly competent assassin.
Her mind wandered to the sexy underthings she’d purchased last week. So unlike the persona she allowed the world to see. But after her ‘rebirth’ of sorts in Cape Town where she had slight modifications to her facial structure and their last assignment that ended with the wedding of Prince Xavi and Sabrina in Scotland, maybe Samaar was ready for something more in life.
The man in front of her talking his heart out was making her own heart skip a beat. It had been a long time since she’d allowed a man to get close enough to feel love. If she was honest, she was afraid to love again. But then along came Luke Raven.
Luke showed how much he cared about her and Alice in unconventional ways. He continued adding innovative security features to her home and had his security operatives monitoring their safety at all times. Her life had been less than relaxing for several years, but for the first time ever, she and her four-year-old daughter Alice were beginning to enjoy ‘normal.’
Alice had not left Luke’s lap since he’d arrived in Paris from Seattle, Washington. This was definitely getting on Samaar’s nerves. She couldn’t decide if she liked it or was jealous of the close relationship her father-less daughter had with Luke. Maybe it was time she admitted to wanting to be on Luke’s lap herself.
“A penny for your thoughts?” The tall, lanky gentle man glanced at Samaar while he tickled Alice who was covering his face with chocolate kisses from her croissant.
“Luke thop it!” Luke felt his mind slowing down and his heart beating quickly in his chest. She may not be his biological child, but he loved her and would protect her with everything he had.
“Nothing. Nothing at all. I’m thinking.” Samaar turned away so Luke couldn’t read her mind. They were both masters of deception. Luke had an innate sixth sense, a brilliant mind and the uncanny ability to know her thoughts before she did. She didn’t want to show him her vulnerable side. But he was indeed wearing her down. Damn!
“Look, the plane is ready at Le Bourget. I have a destination in mind. I want to surprise you. Maggs is here, and you know she will take good care of Alice. She already does that on a daily basis. RB will operate from your office while we’re away. Your personal security team is on site. Absolutely nothing will go wrong.”
He could tell she was close to saying yes.
“Alice will be fine for a week without you. It won’t be the first time.”
Samaar, code-named Luci, known for her lethal skills, found it impossible to give up control of her life to another, even someone as capable and qualified as Luke Raven. But Alice had spent time away from her with Lorena in Puerto Vallarta. That had its challenges, like an abduction. But that could have happened even if Samaar was with them. Would the most advanced security, in demand by presidents, kings and queens the world over, ever
be good enough where Samaar’s daughter was concerned?
“Don’t overthink it. It’s just some time away.” His eyes pleaded for the chance to show her that they could make this work. Her mind returned to that time in the Las Vegas desert, the hot springs, the water, the incredible connection she’d felt when he touched her. Luke had proven his loyalty, patience, and love over the last couple of years and maybe it was time to move on and let her memories of Alice’s murdered father go.
“What about Zach?”
“He’s been called to Washington. I spoke with him an hour ago. An old friend from his time in the SEALs needs him for a personal matter. But the team will be fine. I asked around, checked into a few matters. All is quiet with the cartel in South America, no queries in the system. It seems someone relieved them of hundreds of million dollars a couple of years ago.” Luke hesitated, Samaar looked away.
“They think it was a rival cartel. They’re focused on destroying their competition.”
Samaar nodded.
“The Middle East has accepted what happened in Doha as an accidental death. It’s in their best interest that they perpetuate the myth amongst their brethren. This way they avoid an internal investigation into their incursion into the illegal drug-running business in the Middle East and Europe.”
Samaar didn’t respond.
“There’s no chatter that we can find anywhere about you. Your facial work in South Africa has never shown up in any alerts. We made sure the medical records were expunged from the Doctor’s servers. He’s loyal. We’ve used him before. You can be sure RB would have alerted me to any suspicious chatter. We’re good to go.”
He could see in her eyes that she was almost there.
“With your change of face, we could probably even travel commercial.”
“Hah! Luke Raven travel commercial? You are such a control freak you’d want to pilot the plane!”