The Furies Read Online Free PDF Page A

possible escape routes and hiding places. That was a lot safer than descending to the street, where you’d be an easy target for anyone shooting from the window.
    They came under fire from below just as they reached the fifth floor. Luckily, their pursuers had to shoot upward, which was awkward, and the bars of the fire escape deflected their shots. A moment later, though, John heard footsteps echoing in the alley behind the row house. The other gang was surrounding the building. Their soldiers might be on the roof already. He and Ariel pounded up the steps of the fire escape as fast as they could, but when they reached the top they saw the silhouette of a tall figure looming over them. Ariel aimed her Glock at the edge of the roof, but the tall man jumped backward. “Don’t shoot!” he called. “It’s me!”
    â€œHal?” Ariel dashed up to the roof, and John followed right behind. The tall man, he saw, was the other brawny guy from the bar. Ariel’s second bodyguard. This man carried an assault rifle, an M4 carbine. And it wasn’t a civilian copycat of the gun either—it was the fully automatic military version. John had seen plenty of them during his brief stint in the army.
    The bodyguard lowered his rifle as Ariel came toward him. “Where’s Richard?” he asked.
    Ariel shook her head. “Lost.”
    Hal said nothing in response, but after a second he returned to the edge of the roof and crouched behind the low wall there. Pointing the barrel of his rifle over the wall, he took careful aim and pulled the trigger. Then he chose another target and pulled the trigger again. His rifle had a silencer attached to the muzzle. The gun was quiet enough that they could hear his victims falling to the pavement.
    He fired six shots into the alley behind the row house, then four more at the soldiers climbing the fire escape. His face was blank as he sighted his targets through the rifle’s scope. He was a professional, cold and efficient. John was familiar with the type; every gang in North Philly had at least a couple of seasoned killers in its ranks. They were scary as hell, even when they were on your side.
    Meanwhile, Ariel took cover behind one of the rooftop vents, a rectangular steel unit about four feet tall. Holding her Glock in both hands, she scanned the roofs of the neighboring buildings, obviously searching for the best escape route. John, who was crouched behind a similar vent on the other side of the roof, did the same. There were nearly a dozen row houses running down the length of the block, and each roof had an emergency-exit door that led to the building’s stairwell. Most of the doors were probably locked, but John was willing to bet that one or two had been propped open by the locals. The best strategy, he decided, was to cross over to the other buildings and start trying all the doors.
    He was going to suggest this idea to Ariel but before he could stand up and scurry to her position, the door to the nearest stairwell flew open. Three men with their own assault rifles rushed outside and sprayed bullets across the rooftop.
    Hal spun around as soon as he heard the noise, but he was completely exposed to the barrage. One bullet hit him in the thigh, another in the stomach, another in the chest. Before he collapsed, he managed to point his rifle at one of the attackers and blast off the top of his skull. And in that same instant Ariel rose from her hiding place behind the vent and fired her Glock at another gunman, stopping him with a shot that ripped through his neck.
    The third guy, though, was fast and aggressive, a thug with a shaved head and a spiderweb tattoo on his face. He ran toward Ariel, firing his rifle like mad, and one of the bullets clipped her right shoulder before she could duck. She dropped her Glock and fell on her side, sprawling a couple of yards behind the vent. The thug raced toward her, coming in for the kill, but now John was