Read Countdown to Mecca for Free Online

the enemy’s heads rather than their chests. That was another difference between the military and the mob.
    The wait seemed endless. And then the door flew in, splintering as gunfire chewed around the knob.
    Sammy stepped forward and fired first. The .22 caliber bullets plowed into the killer’s bulletproof vest, saving his life but thrusting him back from Ana’s doorway. The next two bullets ripped out pieces of jacket sleeves—cripple the arms and you cripple the killer—and sent the other two killers spinning back.
    â€œOut!” Sammy bawled. “Out, out, out!”
    â€œNo!” Sol boomed above him. “Their driver will pick us off!”
    â€œDown!” Jack yelled above the din, as the enemy regrouped in the hallway, raised their Glocks, and returned fire. Sammy grabbed Anastasia and threw her down, behind him. Sol dove for the bathroom as the studio apartment was sprayed with 9mm shards. Jack stayed where he was. He wanted one of those Glocks.
    Through the tearing and shattering of bullets into objects, Jack heard one of the killers bark, “Flash in the hole!”
    One of them was prepping a stun grenade. Jack eyeballed him with the intention of grabbing his arm when he came near but the covering gunfire kept him back. He saw the grenade loft into the room like a tossed spray-paint can.
    Jack prepared for death. Flash grenades are classified as nonlethal explosives, but they are designed to activate all the photoreceptor cells in the eyes, making sight impossible for a full five seconds. Jack knew that by the time he and the others could see again, the hit men would have pumped bullets into each of their brains.
    For some reason he thought that he would see his life go by in the flash of the detonation, and, anticipating it, was satisfied by what he knew he would see. He would miss his dog Eddie; he even felt a brief yearning for his former wife Rachel. But overall, he was pleased. Whatever peace he needed to make with his half brother—well, that would have to wait for the afterlife.
    Jack didn’t know what happened next. Flash grenades are designed to deafen as well as blind, their loud concussions disturbing inner ear fluid to throw off a victim’s balance. Later, all Jack remembered was everyone moving, as one, into a closet that seemed to go on and on. When the trio of killers charged into the studio apartment moments later, it was empty.
    From around the back corner of the apartment building, Jack, Sol, Sammy, and Anastasia watched the SUV pull away from the curve and disappear. Anastasia’s hands rested in the crooks of the Hatfield brothers’ arms. Sol’s right hand rested on her shoulder. Although a flash grenade’s initial explosion is disorienting, recovery time is short, as long as the victim doesn’t have an assassin’s bullet in their brain.
    â€œWhat just h-happened?” Sammy stammered.
    Each man looked at each other in confusion. Then all of them looked at the blonde. Panting, Anastasia Vincent gazed back at them, her eyes still glowing.
    â€œIt is as my grandfather taught me when I was very little, back in Russia,” she told them proudly. “Always have an escape route.”
    â€œAnd that was—”
    â€œA domestics’ entrance, built decades ago,” she said breathlessly. “That is the reason I used all my savings to rent this apartment. I knew something like this might happen someday.”
    â€œHow could you know that?” Minsky wondered aloud. The haunted look on Ana’s face told him more than her words did.
    â€œThe men I entertain made it a possibility,” she said. “And where I come from—sadly, it is commonplace.”
    The four ran back down the Filbert Steps as fast as their legs would allow. Ana was still barefoot. Jack took the gun from Sammy and brought up the rear.
    â€œBut how did you find it?” Sol asked. He was obviously impressed by the