The Death Angel

An off-books CIA agent is charged with locating a gang of electronic thieves that are stealing millions from United States banks and transferring the funds to foreign banks in countries that are not friendly to the US. The vexing problem is that these thieves have killed over twenty people as they electronically pillage American banks. Hackers may kill a firewall, but rarely do they murder anyone that is trying to apprehend them. The criminals use a death angel of an assassin to eliminate anyone who comes close to discovering their whereabouts. The blood-money assassin kills young and old, male or female, without prejudice or remorse.

The handsome agent and his female companion, who is as beautiful as she is fearless, track the thieves and their assassin from the glittering neon canyons of Las Vegas to tropical Cabo San Lucas in Baja California Sur. The gang operates off of a magnificent Mondomarine trideck mega yacht, making them highly mobile and difficult to corner. The situation becomes so dangerous that our duo even requests two agency shooters to assist them. The agent uses a Super Leggera open-water speedboat in hot pursuit of the criminals’ mobile headquarters. Violence, betrayal, and seduction galore, the relentless agents will stop at nothing to apprehend this band of thieves. But at what point is the price of justice too high?

THERE WERE FIVE PEOPLE in the bedroom; one male and four beautiful women. The male and his three stunning companions terrified the fourth; she lived in the condominium they had just invaded and was the mistress of a successful Houston bank president. A natural blond and incredibly well built, she was thirty-five years old and although beautiful in her own right, was not in the class of the other three: an African American, a Mexican and an Asian, two of whom were armed. The condo was located in River Oaks, an upscale suburb of Houston; close enough for easy access by the banker, but located far enough away from his wife so as not to arouse her suspicions.

The mistress wore a shear negligee and had been caught unaware by the four intruders. The banker had been hesitating in meeting the demands of the male, who appeared exceptionally dangerous and wanted to leave him an inducement to correct the situation. He nodded slowly to his beautiful Mexican companion, who was armed with a 9mm semi-automatic with a silencer. Without hesitation and displaying no emotion whatsoever she shot the mistress in the chest. The 124 grain bullet penetrated clear to the heart, spelling instant demise as she crumpled to the carpet; her limp body contorted like a rag doll that has been dropped carelessly.

The male said, “Make it appear to be a robbery. Wipe everything clean. Don’t leave any fingerprints.”