Tehran's Vengeance by David Austin

Author:David Austin [Austin, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-12-17T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 42

Mehrdad drew a Makarov PMM pistol from a shoulder holster concealed by his utility uniform. The weapon’s grip was slick with the blood from his hands as he aligned the sights on Voigt’s head. His right index finger began taking the slack out of the trigger, but before the weapon fired he was distracted by an unfamiliar voice calling his name.

He could see Farzan standing at the front of the BMW and knew his boss hadn’t said anything, so he was momentarily confused as to where the voice was coming from. He looked to his left and saw two armed men emerge from the smoke, moving in his direction. One had close-cropped red hair and the other looked like pictures he’d seen of California’s surfers. His hair resembled a shaggy, blond mop.

The man with red hair yelled at him again in Farsi, “Drop the gun, Yousef!”

As shocked as Mehrdad was to hear a stranger calling his name, the fact that the man was speaking to him in his native language was even more surprising. He had no idea who the man was, but he was clearly armed and posed a threat to their mission, so Mehrdad raised his weapon to fire at the mystery man.

Using the split second of confusion to his advantage, Joe pressed the trigger four times. The Iranian dropped to a knee and rolled to his left, simultaneously lowering his profile while getting out of the line of fire. The four rounds missed their intended target and struck the inside of the open door’s bullet resistant window.

Chris snapped off two shots as well, but Mehrdad was up and moving with surprising agility for a man of his size. He spun around on the balls of his feet and took cover behind the open door, using its armoring as a protective shield.

Smoke obscured Farzan’s view of the attackers, but he heard the gunfire and the metallic thuds of the bullets impacting the BMW. He rose from behind the sedan’s hood and fired all twelve of his weapon’s rounds toward the sound of the gunshots. The most he’d hoped to achieve with this initial volley was to suppress the men’s fire, or at the very least, slow their advance. Hitting one of them would have been pure luck. The slide locked to the rear on an empty chamber, so he ducked back behind the hood to reload. Mehrdad popped up, firing his own Makarov over the top of the door, adding to the stream of lead flying toward the advancing men.

The sound of the gunfire sent the two Americans scrambling for something solid to hide behind. Chris dove to his right, around the corner of a neighbor’s wall and landed hard on his left shoulder and hip. Joe chose to go the opposite direction, crouching behind the wheel well of an abandoned but still idling car.

He was shuffling from side to side in search of an angle that would allow him to return fire when he felt a burning sensation in his right thigh.

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