The Hit List by Ryan Chris

Author:Ryan, Chris [Ryan, Chris]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2010-03-25T22:00:00+00:00

Chris Ryan

am. Five minutes later, certain that they had lost earlier pursuers, they recrossed the river by the de Sully. Soon they were in the eleventh sement, parking a couple of hundred metres the street and round the corner from the ig containing Miko Pasquale's apartment, aterialising from the shadows, Terry climbed into ick seat, carrying a crumpled salami sandwich and pen bottle of wine in a paper bag. He looked ely disreputable -- a borderline alcoholic, perhaps, | had taken to drinking in the streets, f^asquale came back in about half an hour ago, 6. The lights went on in the second-floor flat for ten minutes and then went out. I think we can he's asleep. I've watched half a dozen people ; in and out of the place, and I've got the keypad | for the gate . . .'

/e you tested it?' asked Andreas. >, but from where I was on the bench back there i able to see people punching it in. I couldn't see aal numbers, but I could see that the code went aw, bottom row, and then middle row twice. I walked past you could see the finger marks ad the one, the nine, the four and the five. So it's

1945 or 1954.' iickly he fitted on one of the Motorola comms

put on the other. j>K, give me five minutes to get back in place, and we you the go-ahead. You all three going in?' mi nodded. 'Yes we are. And we're going to need

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you to stay out here in case we have any visitors. It's not impossible Branca might show up.'

'OK. Wait for my word.'

Slater checked the Sig Sauer, ensured that he had a spare clip of ammunition.

'Clear to go,' came Terry's message. 'Over.'

The three men climbed from the car and sauntered unhurriedly up the street, as if returning home from a long weekend. When they got to the gate they pulled on gloves and Slater punched 1954 into the keypad. Nothing. He keyed in 1945, and with a muted click the gate unlocked and the three pushed their way into the small courtyard.

Pasquale's name and flat number were on one of the letter-boxes. Slater led up the stairs and waited outside the second-floor flat. The bell-push was grimy; drug dealers, Slater thought, must get quite used to late night visitors. Even so, 4.30 in the morning was stretching a point.

'Why don't you ring the bell?' Andreas suggested to Leon. 'You look the druggiest of all of us.'

'You mean the blackest?' whispered Leon. 'Thanks a lot!'

'White boys in hiking jackets don't buy smack at 4.30 in the morning,' hissed Andreas.

'And black ones do? Man, just where have you been hiding your sweet ass?'

'Guys,' intervened Slater. 'Wind your necks in, OK?' '

Leaning forward, he pressed the bell. From within,

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I'heard slowly approaching footfalls and a ing mutter. To conceal themselves, Leon and i took a couple of steps up the staircase. s spyhole briefly went dark, and the door opened

of inches on a brass chain.

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