Black Flagged Redux Read Online Free PDF

execution. Now, he was on the run with enough virus capsules to poison two cities, and Al Qaeda had no idea what he planned to do next.
    He'd overheard enough to know that Al Qaeda planned to strike several European cities with the virus, and he'd been fortunate to memorize several addresses where containers would be received and held for a coordinated attack. He wasn't sure how he could use this information, but was certain that it would hold some value if he was ever captured. He'd also heard plans for shipping the virus overseas to the United States, through a medical supply distribution company in Germany.
    It all added up to a major attack on the West by Al Qaeda, which is why they wanted him dead. The last thing they needed was for Reznikov to release the virus first, putting the World Health Organization and every other major international health ministry on high alert for further attacks. The capsules were specifically designed to poison municipal water supplies, and an isolated attack would lock down every water facility throughout the world, leaving Al Qaeda with few viable deployment options for their virus.
    He didn't care one way or the other whether Al Qaeda succeeded with their plans. He had a specific target for his own virus capsules and that was all that mattered. If he could escape from the airport, he'd be at his target city within three days. Less than a week after that, the Russian government would watch helplessly as the city of Monchegorsk was put out of its misery.
    He heard voices muttering from the hallway, and bright beams of light penetrated the privacy glass on the hallway door. The lights suddenly disappeared and everything became still again. He watched the doorknob closely, barely poking his head over the desk. The doorknob reflected some of the light from the outside door, and after a few seconds he was certain that it had turned. He ducked his head quickly, a fraction of a second before the door crashed open, slamming against the wall and cracking the inset glass window.
    Footsteps filled the room and bright lights swept the walls and corners. He prayed that his head was far enough below the lip of the desk to remain unseen by the light focused on his corner. He tensed and prepared to make the first move, expecting bullets to rip through the desk at any moment. He started to lift the pistol upward when the light above his desk vanished and a grim voice sounded out in the darkness.
    "He's not here either. What the fuck are you trying to pull on us?"
    Gennady answered them timidly. "I told him to wait back there. Don't worry. He can't go far. He doesn't have the keys to the rental or his luggage. We'll find him," he said, and Anatoly heard a key chain jingling.
    "You're not finding anyone," one of the men said.
    The comment was followed by a deafening gunshot, which spurred Reznikov into action. He rose swiftly, extending the suppressed pistol forward with two hands, and repeatedly squeezed the trigger. Each flash from the suppressor showed a progressively macabre scene, as he fired into the center of each briefly illuminated figure, alternating back and forth between the two men until the slide of his pistol locked back. By the time he realized that the pistol's magazine was empty, the two men started sliding down the opposite wall, leaving dark, glistening trails of gore. He didn't hear a grunt or groan from either of the two men, as their bodies slumped to the floor.
    He changed pistol magazines and walked over to Gennady's body, using one of the dropped flashlights to illuminate the man's face. His eyes stared up at the ceiling, and a single red dot on his forehead trickled blood down the side of his temple. Reznikov turned the flashlight on his body and located the keys to his rental car. Now, he just needed to figure out where to find his baggage, and he could be on his way.
    With Gennady dead, the rental car would be untraceable. Gennady had rented the car in Moscow, using false