Black List Read Free Page A

against his thigh and then pitched it into the hall.
    It rolled a few inches as it hit the floor and then began to hiss as an aerosolized cloud of pepper spray was released into the air. It wouldn’t prevent professional hitters from entering the apartment, but it was unlikely they had come prepared for it. Anyone who had trained to do entrywork expected furniture and other obstacles, as well as the target being armed when they entered, but a fog of OC was an outlier, and that’s why Harvath had deployed it.
    True professionals would have been subjected to pepper spray as part of their training and could move through it, but it still sucked when immediately your mucus membranes dumped, your eyes began to water, and saliva ran from your mouth. Your lungs felt like you had breathed in thousands of needles. On top of everything, your eyes burned like hell and your vision was impaired, which was what Harvath was counting on. Now he could focus on the back door.
    No safe house had only one way in and one way out. There had to be at least two means of ingress and egress. The fact that the shooters had not only located the apartment but had waited until he had shown up to start shooting told him they had access to way too much information and had done their homework. They would have nailed down all means of entering and leaving the building and therefore had him at a distinct disadvantage.
    He had never been to this safe house before, though he’d been inside similar apartments in Paris. Often in these older buildings, there was a servant’s entrance via the kitchen.
    If this apartment had such an entrance, it wouldn’t have been left uncovered. In fact, there was likely another team assembling there right now, poised to burst in. Harvath wasted no time finding out.
    Entering the kitchen, he stood stock-still and listened, his eyes scanning the room. A shaft of ambient light spilled through a pair of weather-beaten French windows. Just as he had assumed, a door at the other end served as an exit.
    Slowing his breathing, Harvath readjusted his grip on his weapon. He couldn’t hear anyone on the other side of the door, but he didn’t need to. He could sense them. He was an apex predator—at the top of the food chain. People didn’t hunt him. He was the hunter, and he hunted them. Whoever had decided to put an X on his back had made a very, very bad mistake.
    Creeping to his left, he opened the cabinet beneath the sink and quickly rummaged through it until he came up with what he was lookingfor. He removed the top from the bottle of dishwashing liquid, crept to the door, and dumped it all over the floor. When it was empty, he laid it in the sink and backed out of the kitchen.
    Though the OC fog hung like a thick cloud in the entry hall, Harvath could already smell it from where he stood. His eyes weren’t watering yet, but they would be soon.
    He took one final deep breath and readied his weapon as an icy calm overtook him. It would be any moment now.
    Five seconds later, he heard the distinct thock from outside the apartment’s front door as the automatic timer turned off the lights.
    “One, one thousand. Two, one thousand,” he said to himself.
    Just before reaching five, the assault came as both the front and back doors of the apartment were kicked in at exactly the same time.

CHAPTER 3

    T he distractions Harvath had set up took both of the breaching teams by surprise.
    The two men who charged through the kitchen hit the slick floor and fell down in a tangled knot. Stepping into the kitchen, Harvath shot the first man in the head and the second in the back.
    He was on his way out, when the man he’d shot in the back raised his pistol and tried to fire. Harvath re-engaged with two rounds to the side of the head, and the man’s body fell limp.
    Quickly, Harvath approached, pulled aside the man’s jacket, and placed his hand against his torso. Body armor.
    From the direction of the entry hall, Harvath heard the cough