Full Black - Brad Thor [55]
Wedging the rifle against his shoulder again, he took a deep breath and swung into the hall. His right arm hung limp at his side. Blood was rolling down his hand and dripping off the tips of his fingers.
With his heart thudding in his chest, Chase moved forward as quietly as he could. His senses were hyper-alert, attuned for any sudden movement or noise he might hear above the ringing that might give his remaining attackers away. The apartment, though, was quiet. Too quiet.
As he moved, he was plagued by the thought that the technique he had used would be used against him, and any moment now he would be shot through the drywall. Hagakure, he reminded himself. Hagakure.
He carefully peeked into the first room he came upon. It was empty. After a quick scan, he turned his attention back to the hallway. The rifle was growing heavy in his left arm.
The next room was a bathroom, which was empty as well. He stopped repeatedly and strained his ears for any sign of where the others might be hiding. There was nothing. Growing ever closer to the room that Karami and Sabah had disappeared into earlier, he had a good idea of where the remaining three men were. Sure enough, the door to that room was closed.
Chase was a risk-taker, but he wasn’t an idiot. There was every reason to believe that kicking the door in could only result in all sorts of bad news for him. There could be three heavily armed men waiting for him on the other side, or the door itself could be booby-trapped.
Stepping into the bathroom, which had only a shower, no tub, Chase crouched behind the toilet and balanced the rifle’s magazine on the seat. At this angle, he could see only a very narrow sliver of the door he was shooting at. Taking aim, he squeezed the trigger and let another hail of lead fly.
The rounds chewed up the left side of the door, splintering the frame. Chase waited for a response, but none came.
Picking up his weapon, he walked into the hall and put another burst through the door as well as through the drywall. No response.
Against his better judgment, he decided to kick the door open. He counted to three and let his foot fly.
The moment his shoe connected, he heard a roaring barrage of gunfire.
CHAPTER 27
Harvath ran across the street and charged directly into the building he’d seen the man fall from. He didn’t know if his mind was playing tricks on him or if he’d actually caught a glimpse of Chase in the upper window.
Murphy was right behind Harvath, and they ignored the elevator and headed right for the stairs. They were halfway up to the fourth floor when some Islamist skidded to a halt on the landing above them and tried to bring his weapon up to fire. The man never had a chance.
Harvath and Murphy both drilled him with suppressed rounds to his chest and face. The man’s finger pulled down on the trigger in spasm and his weapon discharged wildly. Rounds ricocheted through the stairwell, sending Harvath and Murphy diving for what little cover there was.
When the dead terrorist’s weapon fell silent, Harvath double-tapped him with two quick shots to the head just to make sure. After kicking his weapon away, they resumed their charge up the stairs.
When they got to the fourth floor, Murphy covered Harvath as he stepped into the hall. There were only four apartments per floor, and based on the window the body had come out of, Harvath knew exactly which one they were looking for. He just prayed that Chase was inside and that he was still alive.
Covering the apartment door with his weapon, he signaled for Murphy to come forward and join him.
Harvath studied the door frame for any sign that it was wired. He didn