End of Days Read Online Free PDF Page B

onto the roof and took a position behind a stack of crates. As the helicopter approached, he fired. The helicopter’s side window shattered in a roar of flying glass and rushing wind. The craft lurched, then steadied. Chicago and Jericho drew their sidearms, leaned out the broken window, and began pumping rounds at the shooter.
    â€œDown!” Jericho shouted. “Get us closer!”
    Struggling with the controls, Sam Yates circled lower, giving them a better angle. The shooter fired wildly from behind the crates. Jericho answered with seven quick shots that blasted the crates apart and flushed him into the open. The shooter started to run, then whirled, rifle aimed directly at the cockpit—but the shot never came. They saw the shooter toss the rifle aside, obviously out of ammo.
    â€œIt’s over,” Chicago said. He spoke too soon.
    The shooter ran back and forth, looking for an escape route.
    â€œSet us down!” Jericho yelled. “Hurry!”
    Sam Yates shook his head. “There’s too much crap on that roof—we’d break the main rotor off.”
    Jericho turned to Chicago. “Snap me in!” He glared at the pilot. “Stay with him.”
    Skillfully Sam Yates descended in front of the shooter, cutting him off. The shooter paused, then started backing away as Jericho hit the safety brake on the winch and started trailing rope out of the open door.
    The shooter weighed his options. Suddenly he turned and began sprinting for the edge of the building.
    Chicago leaned out the window. “He’s gonna take a dive!”
    â€œNot before I kick his ass,” Jericho grunted. He pulled the rope taut and edged out of the copter. “ON HIM!”
    Eyes on their quarry, Sam Yates bounced the helicopter in a soft arc that dropped them beside the shooter. He kept the craft steady as the shooter charged headlong toward the edge. Dangling from the rope, skimming the roof, Jericho reached out for the shooter, less than a foot away. The man continued for the edge, arms and legs pumping crazily. Jericho reached for him, but missed.
    Suddenly the roof fell away and a forty-story drop yawned beneath him. At that moment the shooter jumped. Reflexively Jericho swiped at him, and his fingers clutched something. A sudden yank almost tore it from his hands but he squeezed tight. Looking down he saw the shooter dangling beneath him, legs kicking.
    Somehow he’d grabbed the shooter’s coat. Shoulder straining, he lifted the shooter with one hand and squeezed the rappel brake with the other, pulling them up. They swung onto the skid and the helicopter rose in the air, turning back toward the roof. Without warning the shooter kicked at Jericho’s crotch, then yanked a small handgun from his ankle holster. Jericho’s eyes went wide as the muzzle came up to his face. “Not today, baby,” he grunted, snatching the shooter’s wrist.
    Unfortunately he let go of the rappel brake.
    Both men tumbled off the skid and began a sickening free fall to the concrete forty stories below. The rope whistled through the rappelling harness as the ground rose up to meet them. Frantically Jericho swatted the pistol away and grabbed the brake with one hand, while holding the shooter with the other. Jericho squeezed the brake and the rope screeched to a jolting halt. For a moment the shooter hovered forty feet above the street, arms spread like a skydiver. Then the coat slipped out of Jericho’s hand.
    Jericho watched the shooter hit the side of a sloping glass building, ten feet below. The canopy shattered and the shooter fell into a newstand, landing in a pile of magazines and candy bars.
    He banged the side of the copter. “Take me down!”
    â€œI can’t land in the middle of a crowded street!” the pilot croaked, starting his descent. The shooter saw them coming and painfully pushed himself up.
    â€œFuck it,” Chicago shouted at Jericho. “It’s a