Full Black Read Online Free PDF Page B

team. A Russian wet work team.”
    “Team?”
    “There was a driver outside and at least two others inside the house.”
    Salomon was trying to piece it all together. “And you killed three of them?”
    Ralston nodded.
    “How did you know?”
    “I saw tire tracks leading up the service road. I tried to call you, but I couldn’t get a signal.”
    “My cell was down, too,” said Salomon.
    “They must have some sort of jammer. Like I said, these guys were professional.” Ralston stepped off the towels and out of the bathroom. Reaching for the shotgun, he repeated, “There may be more of them. We need to get going.”
    The producer shook his head. “I know how this plays out. If we don’t stay here and wait for the cops, we’ll look guilty.”
    “And if we do stay and wait for the cops, we’ll both be dead. I’m not going to let that happen. The Russians have infiltrated a lot of police departments across the country.”
    “Are you serious?”
    “Dead serious,” said Ralston. “We’re not trusting anyone else at this point. When these guys fail to report back in, whoever sent them might send more. They’re going to use every contact, every means they have at their disposal. We need to disappear.”
    Salomon began to object, but Ralston was already making his way across the bedroom. “Are you comfortable using this?” Ralston asked as he handed his friend the suppressed pistol.
    “I’d rather have the shotgun.”
    Ralston nodded and handed it over. Raising the pistol, he prepared to enter the hallway and said, “Stay close. And if you see anything move at all, you pull that trigger. Got it? Don’t even worry about aiming.”
    Salomon nodded and the pair slipped into the hallway and down the back stairs. They stopped at the dining room long enough for Ralston to grab his shoes. He thought about wiping his fingerprints off the handle of the knife that lay only feet away, but decided it wasn’t worth the time. They needed to get out of there as quickly as possible. His damaged Porsche was already going to tell the world that he had been there.
    In the garage, Ralston grabbed a flashlight and walked over to the key box. He bypassed all of Salomon’s luxury automobiles and selected the keys for his vintage navy blue Wagoneer.
    Disengaging the overhead opener, he rolled up the garage door and told Salomon to get in the truck. Hopping in beside him, he fired up the Wagoneer and pulled into the motor court.
    The gates at the bottom of the drive were on a separate circuit from the house and opened as the Wagoneer rolled over the pressure plates. The marine layer had turned into a thick fog. That would work to their advantage and it helped Ralston decide in which direction to head.
    “You’re bleeding,” said Salomon as they turned out onto the road.
    Ralston touched the side of his head and looked at his fingers. The bullet that had whizzed by his ear had actually grazed him. “Don’t worry about it,” he said.
    Salomon was worried about it, though. He was worried about all of it. He knew Ralston was right. More men would be coming after him. He had uncovered the truth, and the truth made him a liability.

CHAPTER 7

     
    S WEDEN
     
    H arvath had rented a farm on the outskirts of Uppsala for their safe house. It was far enough away from neighbors that they could interrogate their prisoner and come and go without attracting any attention.
    In the city of Uppsala itself, he had rented an apartment where he had staged an assault team. Though they were outfitted with gear to look like members of the Swedish Security Service, the government of Sweden had no idea an American operation was taking place on their soil. They were purposely being kept in the dark for the time being. Somewhere in the intelligence community, there was a leak. Because of that leak, one of the highest-value terrorist targets the United States had ever bagged, Aazim Aleem, had been assassinated.
    Sitting in the darkened room, Scot