Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 80431 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80431 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Chief Aiken Oakley and Chief Styles Sawyer—two of the US Navy’s most elite Special Warfare Combatant-craft officers—vanished after their mission was ambushed in South America and later presumed MIA.
Captured by the Raven’s organization, a covert assassin program, Oakley and Sawyer are stripped of their past, their memories, and even their names.
They are subjected to inhumane experimentation and injected with predator DNA that transform them into primal, lethal weapons… and are now known only as Valor and Zorion.
After breaking free from the program’s control, Valor and Zorion train themselves to master the beasts within them—pushing their minds, bodies, and instincts to the edge.
But to take down the corrupt organization, they’ll need more than strength, fury and an appetite for revenge. They'll have to form uneasy alliances with the two other deadly Raven units—the strategic, silent Browns, and the ruthless, unpredictable Blacks.
Together, these assassins must unite against the program that created them... and destroy it before it creates something worse.
Black, Brown, and Green Ravens… The organization turned them into weapons, and now they’ve come back for war.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
SWCC Chief Warrant Officer Styles Sawyer
Special Warfare Combatant Craft Chief Warrant Officer Styles Sawyer sat at the rear of the dank confines of one of the USS Rimlin’s strategy rooms with his crew standing behind him. He referred to deck one as the belly of the beast, though there were still multiple decks below him.
This was the section of the two hundred forty-four-foot-tall aircraft carrier where he was briefed on his missions, where he was thrown into the thick of it, into the world’s most dangerous situations, so it always felt like a room that swallowed him whole.
Over forty US SEALs and boat operators filled the space as they listened to the details of their upcoming mission.
An operation that was his specialty—personnel recovery.
“Three CIA agents were ambushed on their way back from their check-in point in Porto Velho.” The lieutenant nodded to another officer to change the images on the screen behind him. “Regrettably, two were killed, gunshots to the head, the other was abducted. The agents were acquiring information on the Woyashi terrorist group responsible for the Swiss embassy bombing and the assassination attempt on General Elias Silas. The abducted agent is believed to be in possession of a hard drive that holds classified information on Woyashi’s current dealings with a weapons of mass destruction physicist.”
The Lieutenant. paused. “Any questions?”
“Do we have any details on the abductee’s status, sir? Are they ambulatory?”
Sawyer recognized the lieutenant of one of the two Navy SEAL teams responsible for the breach. Meehaus was an absolute monster the second his boots hit the ground. The hostage was lucky to have him leading the charge.
“We don’t know his current condition, but we do know this group is ruthless and violent, and their methods of interrogation are brutal. So you’ll need to be prepared for a carry.”
Meehaus nodded.
The Lieutenant. waited to see if anyone else had something to ask or add, and when they didn’t, he began to go over the details of the SEALs’ drop site.
“Intel confirms the hostiles have a camp in Novo Aripuanã. They have heavy artillery so be prepared for return fire. Their numbers are roughly four or five dozen men, so watch your backs and each other’s.”
The mission specialist, Master Chief Robinson, motioned toward Sawyer.
“Because of the severity and threat level of this mission, we brought in two of the fleet’s best boat teams to pull you boys out of the trenches. Chariot, commanded by CWO Oakley, and Neptune, commanded by the infamous CWO Sawyer.”
There were a few “Hooyahs” and whoops thrown in their direction, especially at Oakley as he stood wide-legged with his arms crossed over his broad chest and his infamous light-hazel eyes shining pale yellow in the sunlight hidden behind a pair of gold-rimmed aviator shades.
The Lieutenant. dismissed them, and each team filed out of the room and went in their own directions.
Sawyer hung back to say a few words to Oakley. He hadn’t worked with him before, but his reputation preceded him.
Sawyer and his crew were notorious for skirting the rules, but when a mission operator called for the best, Sawyer was the one who answered. But he made no mistake that Oakley’s guys were in a very close second.
While Oakley had a conversation with a couple of boys from the SEAL team, Sawyer tried not to pay attention to the way the other boat chief filled out his fatigues.
He didn’t usually size up other men. Maybe it was hero worship.
“You ready to take a swim, chief?”
Sawyer jerked his head up to find Oakley’s attention square on him.
“Always ready,” he answered, taking Oakley’s outstretched palm and giving it a firm shake.
“What can I do ya for?”
Oakley had a deep voice, with a smooth baritone timbre.
“Well, it’s not often I meet a legend.” Sawyer smirked, staring at his own reflection in Oakley’s black lenses.
The room was dark as fuck, but he knew why Oakley hid that miraculous glare, or so he’d heard rumors. Apparently, the man caught quite a bit of ridicule for his eyes, being called everything from doll eyes to piss holes to oracles.
Oakley smirked. “You shouldn’t believe everything you hear, chief.”
Sawyer was stunned when Oakley turned his back on him and left the room without so much as a “see ya.”
Well fuck.
He’d heard Oakley wasn’t big on small talk. Sawyer supposed that was one thing he could mark as truth.
Instead of taking offense, he chalked it up to the looming mission. They were buckets up at zero eight hundred. Maybe Oakley wanted to be alone to get his head ready for the fight.
SWCC Chief Warrant Officer Aiken Oakley
“Well shit,” Oakley muttered on his way up the narrow stairs. “I was not expecting that.”
He’d heard a lot of stories about Chief Sawyer and his crew, about his bravery, his sharp thinking, and his unshakable duty to his men and his country. But what Oakley hadn’t heard was how fucking sexy he was.