A Woman's Touch - Can be Deadly

By Richard Vadim

Twin sister assassins, Green Berets, corrupt royals, and a truck full of gold bullion drive this fast paced, action-packed thriller.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Richard Vadim
• Release date: Nov 6, 2022
• ISBN: 9798223125372

Book preview

A Woman’s Touch

Can  be deadly

by

Richard Vadim

​Copyright © 2021 Richard Vadim. All rights reserved.

Published by Richard Vadim, Branchburg, NJ 08876

Printed in the United States of America

First Edition

No part of this book, A Woman’s Touch, may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction.  While some places and venues are real, the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any Web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

ASIN: B08V7YMC44

To my family,

for their enthusiastic

support and guidance

A Woman’s Touch

Prologue

S

canning the room from his position at the bar, Christopher’s eyes quickly fall upon a breathtaking woman, laughing and talking with others around a large table.  He places his drink on the bar and stands.

What? his friend shouts over the music.

I’m in love.

What took you so long?

I’ll be back, or not, Christopher says as he zeroes in on his target and zigzags across the dance floor.  In a moment he is standing by her side.  The table becomes quiet as eyes stare.  She turns, looks up at the man in his officer’s uniform, and smiles.  Christopher bends slightly and holds out a hand.  May I have this dance, Signorina? he asks in the smoothest voice he can muster.

She looks at him for what seems an eternity, then responds.  Yes, that would be nice.  She takes his hand and rises.

Isabella! an older gentleman calls.  She looks across the table at him.  He gives a quick shake of his head.

We are just going to dance, Papa.

With that, the couple joins the others on the dance floor.  Christopher holds her at arm’s length as they dance, just smiling and staring.  After a few minutes, the song comes to an end. 

Thank you, that was delightful, she breathes as she steps back.

Oh, no! Christopher responds as he fails to let go of her hands.  Please, another.  Don’t let our first dance be our last.

Well… she hesitates.

I never even asked your name.

I think you know my name.

I do?  Oh, yes, Isabella?

Yes, and you are?

Christopher.  Christopher Marlowe.

That’s a strong name.

Thank you.  Another dance?

"You only asked for a dance, not multiple dances."

Yes, well, when you looked up at me, my mind kind of went blank.

Does that happen often?

This was the first time.

Isabella smiles.

Christopher looks back at her table.  Is that glaring person at your table someone important in your life?  I suspect he is not a husband, but a boyfriend?

She looks back at the person in question.  How do you know he is not my husband?

You and he are not wearing wedding rings.

You are very observant.

Maybe.  Is he a problem?

No, he is a long-time friend, a family friend.  I suppose he thinks we are a couple for the evening but, no, he is not a problem.

Your father did not seem too happy with my arrival.

I think he was more upset with me for accepting your invitation.

Is that problematic?

No, no, she smiles, I am papa’s princess.  I can do no wrong.

The music starts again.  Shall we dance, then? Christopher smiles.

Yes, let’s.

They resume their earlier posture and float about the floor.  Christopher slowly pulls Isabella to him, she rests her head on his chest.  Their bodies meld together, each feeling more and more part of a whole.  They dance through three more songs.  As the orchestra takes a break, they hold hands and search each other’s eyes.

Come, Isabella says as she turns, meet my family.

Christopher hesitates.  Do you think that is a good idea?

It’s a necessity if you ever hope to see me again.

Then lead the way.

*

Christopher and Isabella have four children, Robert, twin girls Nicole and Victoria, and Edward.  Through his business success, Christopher was able to purchase a waterfront estate in Greenwich, Connecticut.  The Marlowes became Long Island Sounders.

But the Marine within Christopher would not lie dormant.  While his Brush Island estate provided a relaxing respite from his work, it would also allow him to slowly build a training ground, ready for his home-grown recruits when they were old enough.

Chapter  1

I

t was late morning when twenty-five-year-old Nicole Marlowe jogged into Miramar Park.  She stopped at a water fountain, held her red ponytail to the side, and took a long drink.  Dressed in powder blue running shorts and a matching sleeveless tee, she stood to take in the view of Torrance County Beach and the Pacific Ocean beyond. 

​She turned to observe a man sitting on a park bench reading a newspaper, walked slowly toward him, and sat on the bench.  The man appeared to be in his mid-fifties and was dressed casually, with a floral short sleeve cotton shirt, tan linen slacks, and open-toed sandals.  A wide-brimmed hat shielded his eyes from the bright sun.

​Anything of interest in the news? Nicole asked him, as she patted the sweat from her face with a bandana.

He cocked his head to look at her.  Well, there was an assassination of some Mediterranean king.

​Saudi Arabia?

​No, some small country up on the Mediterranean, on the African continent.  But like many of them out there, they owe their wealth to oil.  The bastards.  They don’t know what it’s like to work for a living.

​Amen to that.  Well, I better get back to my run.  Enjoy this beautiful day.

​Thank you, I will.

​Nicole stood, stretched her legs, and observed five men twenty yards away smoking and talking.  They glanced at her but then returned to their conversation.  Nicole walked around the back of the bench.  When she reached the seated man, she turned, reached down to wrap an arm around his neck, and then grabbed her other arm to lock in a deadly chokehold.  The man dropped his paper, grasped her arms, and struggled to free himself, to no avail.

**

​Ten years prior Nicole was practicing a similar chokehold on her father, Christopher.  He tapped her arm a few times for her to let up, but she did not.  Her younger brother Ed stepped in and pried her off.  Gees, Nic, what are you doing? he shouted.

​Her father stood, gasping for air.

​I’m sorry, daddy, I…

​Excuse me? Christopher interrupted angrily.

​I mean, I’m sorry, sir, I don’t know what got into me.

​Mr. Marlowe was Christopher to the public, Kit to his wife and close friends, and Sir to his children, except when there were others around when Daddy or Dad was the appropriate titles.

​That’s all right, he answered as he began to breathe normally.  You did that move very well, Nic, but a few words of caution.  First, I could have easily punched your lights out.  Next time, remember to keep your head back so that your face is out of reach.  Also, I was seated.  He took a stood close to her.  If your target is standing and is as big as I am, you’d have a time of it trying that hold, even if you came up from behind.  You’ll have to get him on the ground first.  Want to try?

​Yes, sir.

​No! her identical twin sister Victoria stepped in.  Let me!  Why should she have all the fun?

​Her father laughed and turned around.  Okay, Vic.  Give me your best shot.

​Victoria ran up to him from behind and jammed her foot into the crook of his leg as she grabbed his collar.  As he pitched backward, she rolled him so that he landed on his face.  In an instant, the chokehold was in place.  Unlike her sister, Victoria held it only a few seconds and then let her father up.

​Mr. Marlowe stood with his hands on his hips, shaking his head.  He looked at his sons, Edward and Robert.  You two better watch out for these girls.  Everyone laughed.  Now remember, Christopher continued, your mamma doesn’t have to know everything we’ve been up to.  We were just working out, okay?  The children nodded.  Alright, let’s go have some real fun.

​They exited the gym and found wife and mother Isabella reading a magazine at an umbrellaed table by the pool.  She looked up.  Are you people done working out?

​We are, Christopher answered, but my good soldiers and I are going to jog out to Mead Point and back.  Want to join us?

​Thank you, no.  I did my bicycle workout this morning.

​Okay, see you in a bit.

​The group ran across the lawn to the path leading through the woods. After a quarter-mile or so, Christopher pulled up.  Alright, into the range. 

The children followed their father into a clearing in the woods and approach a shed, much overgrown with vines. Christopher unlocked the doors and swung them open, revealing an arsenal of weapons.  He reached in and began distributing rifles to each of the children.

"You guys have pretty much-mastered handguns and short-range automatic rifles.  Today we are beginning your long game training.  What you are holding is a British L96A1 long-range rifle.  It is known for its accuracy and reliability, even under arctic conditions.  As with the other weapons you’ve used, these have suppressors on them.  I don’t think our Brush Island neighbors,