Read Online The Assassin by Andrew Britton - Free Book Online

pounds. His radio was still transmitting. Tilting his head down to his hip, he shouted, “Paul, light up the second floor. Now! ”
     
     
    Walland wasn’t sure what was happening, but when the sound of the explosion reached him, his training took over. The M4 snapped up in his arms, and he instantly found the guard on the left through his telescopic sight. He squeezed off a 3-round burst, then switched his aim to the next fighter as the first hit the ground. The man’s AK was already coming up, his finger landing on the trigger as Walland’s second burst tore through his chest. A wild spray of bullets ripped into the frame of the first Tacoma, shattering the glass in the driver’s side door.
    Owen flinched as cubes of safety glass exploded over his upper body. He turned to the left and tracked for targets with his rifle, but saw right away that Walland’s shots had found their mark. The radio traffic was coming loud and fast; he heard Walland shouting something on the handheld and then Kealey calling for cover over the SINCGARS.
    He immediately grabbed for the handset and shouted, “Gregg, Morales, that’s you! Hit the second floor with everything you got!”
     
     
    Kealey was moving as fast as he could through the dimly lit hallways, struggling to keep Kassem’s body on his shoulders and his weapon up at the same time. The sound of a heavy machine gun thumped in his ears, growing louder as he pushed forward. He reached a corner and cut it wide, catching sight of an armed guard on a wooden staircase. He was about to fire when a volley of rounds ripped through the front of the building. Kealey saw a flash of red, saw the man’s left leg collapse, and he went sideways, crashing through the banister to the floor below. The sound of the splintering wood was lost in another hail of automatic fire. Tipping his head back to the radio, Kealey said, “Owen, tell your guys to watch their fire. I’m coming out.”
    He burst into the sunlight a moment later, shards of cement from the building’s façade crumbling beneath his feet. The Delta troopers in the first two trucks continued to pour rounds into the second floor as Kealey heaved Kassem into the back of the first Tacoma, then climbed in after him. He caught a jagged piece of metal on his way over the side, felt a sudden tearing pain, and looked down to see a bloody rent in his trousers, just above the left knee.
    Owen was turned around in his seat, eyes wide in anger. He had to shout over the sound of gunfire. “What the fuck happened in there? And what the hell are you doing with him? There’s no way we’re taking him—”
    “I can’t explain it right now. Just drive.” Kealey was fighting to stay calm, but when the Delta colonel didn’t respond right away, he fixed him with a fierce look and screamed, “ Now , Paul! Let’s go!”
    The other man seemed stunned by the expression on Kealey’s face, but it pushed him into action. The truck accelerated rapidly a split second later, the other vehicles following suit. Soon they were racing back to the train yard. Owen called the other vehicles for a sit rep, breathing a long sigh of relief when the casualty count came back zero. Then he punched in the frequency for the Agency pilots on the dash-mounted SINCGARS radio. Once the call went through, he hurled the handset against the dash and turned to glare at Kealey through the open rear window of the truck cab.
    “I hope you have a good fucking reason for this.” There was a hard edge to his elevated voice. “One way or another, you owe me an explanation.”
    “I know.” Looking down at Kassem’s unconscious body, Kealey felt strangely numb. “And you’ll get one, I promise. But for now, just get us out of here.”

 
CHAPTER 7
SYRIA
     
    With night slinking in, the sun slipped low to the west, red light bleeding over the sparse landscape, climbing over the limestone hills that surround the dead cities of the Byzantines before sliding south to touch the