Read Online Jihad by Stephen Coonts - Free Book Online
Authors: Stephen Coonts
Tags: Fiction, Suspense, Thrillers, Action & Adventure, Espionage, Intelligence Officers, Adventure fiction, spy stories, Undercover operations, Cyberterrorism, National security
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knock?”
“Maybe there was somebody behind you,” he said.
Lia took the pistols she’d prepared earlier, a pair of .22-caliber Ruger Mark IIs equipped with silencers.
“Three of them, coming up in the elevator,” Rockman told her. “They went straight past the front desk. I’ll tell you when they’re on the floor.”
Lia turned to Reisler. “Ready?”
“Yeah.” He raised the submachine gun. “How do you know Pinchon?”
“We were in the army together. Delta”.
“On your floor,” said Rockman. “They have pistols, down at the side. One’s hanging back, trailing them toward the room and facing the elevator.”
“Terry, they should be just about at the door,” said Lia. “Grunt, and I’ll take the guard.”
Lia listened for Pinchon’s groan. Instead, she heard the sharp bark of a rifle from down the hall.
CHAPTER 21
WITH ASAD BEDDED down for the night, Dean and Karr flipped a coin to see who got the first shift, staying nearby in case something happened.
Dean won. But rather than going off to sleep, he volunteered to back up Lia and the CIA people at the hospital.
He’d just found the terrorists’ car when Rockman warned him that shots had been fired inside. Stifling the impulse to run inside and help Lia, he drove past the car, pulling into a parking spot a short distance away.
“One guy, watching the driveway to the hospital,” he told the Art Room.
“All right. Stick with the game plan. Stay back,” said Rockman. “Let’s not make any unnecessary fuss.”
Dean rolled down the window and slid a video bug on the mirror to give the Art Room a view of what was going on. Then he leaned back in the seat, calmly waiting as directed.
For all of five seconds. Then Dean reached below the seat, pulled out his silenced .22, and went for a walk.
CHAPTER 22
LIA SLAMMED HER elbow against the crash bar, pushing the door open as she threw herself into the hall. It took her only two seconds to sight her gun and fire—but that was at least a second and a half too long, for it allowed the terrorist to point his AK-47 in her direction and fire. His bullets flew high; Lia’s did not. Two struck him square in the forehead, the small-caliber bullets punching through his skull and sending him to the ground.
Reisler rolled into the hallway behind her.
“I got them,” said Pinchon.
Lia glanced in the doorway, saw two bodies on the floor, and raced to the elevator, jamming the button to bring the car to their floor.
“Security people are heading for the stairs,” said Rockman. “They don’t know yet where the gunfire was. Your nurse is coming back—up the corridor at the left side of the station.”
“Pinchon, bring him to the elevator,” said Lia, moving to the corner of the hallway. “Hit him with the Demerol and make sure he’s out.”
Lia saw the nurse running toward her in the comer mirror at the ceiling. She put her gun in her left hand, watching the woman with one eye and glancing down the hallway with the other. As the woman came around the corner, Lia threw her body around and kicked out the nurse’s legs. Then she leapt over her and smacked the back of the head, knocking her out.
“I’m sorry,” Lia said, making sure the woman was out.
The fire alarm began to sound.
“Security people are checking each floor,” said Rockman. “You have about three minutes, maybe a little more.”
The elevator was just arriving. Pinchon emerged from the room with Asad’s driver in his wheelchair. He sprinted down the hall with Reisler in pursuit. An old man appeared in the doorway of one of the rooms; Lia raised her pistol and shooed him back inside.
“Go! Go!” yelled Reisler.
Pinchon barreled into the elevator. Lia reached into the one next to them and released it. She bumped Reisler getting into the car with Pinchon. The doors closed. It seemed to take forever before the car started downward.
“Get the gown off!” Lia barked at Pinchon. “Go, come on.”
Pinchon
“Maybe there was somebody behind you,” he said.
Lia took the pistols she’d prepared earlier, a pair of .22-caliber Ruger Mark IIs equipped with silencers.
“Three of them, coming up in the elevator,” Rockman told her. “They went straight past the front desk. I’ll tell you when they’re on the floor.”
Lia turned to Reisler. “Ready?”
“Yeah.” He raised the submachine gun. “How do you know Pinchon?”
“We were in the army together. Delta”.
“On your floor,” said Rockman. “They have pistols, down at the side. One’s hanging back, trailing them toward the room and facing the elevator.”
“Terry, they should be just about at the door,” said Lia. “Grunt, and I’ll take the guard.”
Lia listened for Pinchon’s groan. Instead, she heard the sharp bark of a rifle from down the hall.
CHAPTER 21
WITH ASAD BEDDED down for the night, Dean and Karr flipped a coin to see who got the first shift, staying nearby in case something happened.
Dean won. But rather than going off to sleep, he volunteered to back up Lia and the CIA people at the hospital.
He’d just found the terrorists’ car when Rockman warned him that shots had been fired inside. Stifling the impulse to run inside and help Lia, he drove past the car, pulling into a parking spot a short distance away.
“One guy, watching the driveway to the hospital,” he told the Art Room.
“All right. Stick with the game plan. Stay back,” said Rockman. “Let’s not make any unnecessary fuss.”
Dean rolled down the window and slid a video bug on the mirror to give the Art Room a view of what was going on. Then he leaned back in the seat, calmly waiting as directed.
For all of five seconds. Then Dean reached below the seat, pulled out his silenced .22, and went for a walk.
CHAPTER 22
LIA SLAMMED HER elbow against the crash bar, pushing the door open as she threw herself into the hall. It took her only two seconds to sight her gun and fire—but that was at least a second and a half too long, for it allowed the terrorist to point his AK-47 in her direction and fire. His bullets flew high; Lia’s did not. Two struck him square in the forehead, the small-caliber bullets punching through his skull and sending him to the ground.
Reisler rolled into the hallway behind her.
“I got them,” said Pinchon.
Lia glanced in the doorway, saw two bodies on the floor, and raced to the elevator, jamming the button to bring the car to their floor.
“Security people are heading for the stairs,” said Rockman. “They don’t know yet where the gunfire was. Your nurse is coming back—up the corridor at the left side of the station.”
“Pinchon, bring him to the elevator,” said Lia, moving to the corner of the hallway. “Hit him with the Demerol and make sure he’s out.”
Lia saw the nurse running toward her in the comer mirror at the ceiling. She put her gun in her left hand, watching the woman with one eye and glancing down the hallway with the other. As the woman came around the corner, Lia threw her body around and kicked out the nurse’s legs. Then she leapt over her and smacked the back of the head, knocking her out.
“I’m sorry,” Lia said, making sure the woman was out.
The fire alarm began to sound.
“Security people are checking each floor,” said Rockman. “You have about three minutes, maybe a little more.”
The elevator was just arriving. Pinchon emerged from the room with Asad’s driver in his wheelchair. He sprinted down the hall with Reisler in pursuit. An old man appeared in the doorway of one of the rooms; Lia raised her pistol and shooed him back inside.
“Go! Go!” yelled Reisler.
Pinchon barreled into the elevator. Lia reached into the one next to them and released it. She bumped Reisler getting into the car with Pinchon. The doors closed. It seemed to take forever before the car started downward.
“Get the gown off!” Lia barked at Pinchon. “Go, come on.”
Pinchon
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