Tripoli's Target (Justin Hall # 2) Read Online Free

of her magazine. Once she heard the dull clink of her empty gun, she slid in a fresh magazine. She leaned against the wall and listened. Chaotic screams and rushing footsteps came from the street, but no more gunshots.
    Carrie looked out of the window. A car engine roared and tires screeched. Down on the street, Justin chased a white Ford, shooting even as he ran to keep up with the car. Despite his torrent of bullets that riddled the runaway target, the Ford rounded the corner and disappeared behind the grocery store. Justin, gun in hand, stood alone in the middle of the alley.
     
    * * *
     
    Carrie walked outside to meet Justin. She stepped cautiously around a body lying halfway through the entrance to the apartment building. She noticed an AK-47 by the man’s hand and her eyes rested on the wound in his neck. Justin had fired kill shots. Most of their targets wore bulletproof vests, so they rarely aimed at their chests. After a couple of clashes with mercenaries in the Niger River Delta swamps two years ago, they almost gave up shooting at the heads of their enemies. Kevlar helmets were becoming increasingly resistant to small arms fire.
    “There’s another body upstairs in the hall,” Justin said, drawing nearer to her.
    Carrie nodded. “Is this the work of the Alliance?”
    “If it is, it’s lousy at best.” Justin looked at the dead man.
    “Did you get the men in the Ford?”
    “Yes, I’m sure I got the woman passenger on the shoulder.”
    “A woman?”
    “Yeah.”
    Carrie raised her hand and touched Justin’s bristly face. A reddish stain appeared on her fingers trailing over his chin. “You’re wounded?”
    “Slivers. My favorite shirt is ruined though.” He ran his hand over his chest. “That’s Rahim’s blood.”
    “If Rahim had checked the Ford, maybe this would have not happened.”
    “If I would have checked it, this would not have happened.”
    “It wasn’t your responsibility. It was his. You can’t do everyone’s job.”
    “Maybe Rahim didn’t want to check the Ford.”
    Carrie’s gray-blue eyes narrowed. “He wanted this to happen?”
    “Well, not the part where he died.”
    She glanced back at the Castle. Some of its patrons had run away. A few curious souls peered from behind the windows. She scanned the windows and balconies of the apartment building. Narrowed eyes of some of the residents glared in their direction. An old woman screamed at them in Arabic. A dog howl cut through the hot, heavy air.
    Justin was staring at the dead man.
    “What is it?” Carrie asked.
    “I wonder if this is why the sheikh disappeared.”
    “You mean he lured us for a meeting and set up an ambush? That is, if Rahim gave us up.”
    “Yes, and before the ambush, the sheikh disappears.”
    “Uh-uh, the sheikh needs no alibi. It has to be something else.”
    Justin nodded and checked the magazine of his pistol. Four bullets left.
    “You’re right. But this was no coincidence either.”
    “Whatever it is, we’ll find out.”
    “You’re right about that too. Whoever it is, they made a grave mistake putting us in their crosshairs.”
     
    * * *
     
    “Tell me what you see.” The man passed his binoculars to the driver.
    He took the Bushnell binoculars and peered through it. The powerful magnification produced a sharp close-up image even through the BMW’s windshield. They had a clear view of the entrance to the Castle coffee shop from the Nile City Fairmont parking lot.
    “He’s standing outside the shop, talking to the woman,” the driver said.
    The man shook his gray-haired head.
    “No, you see two brave soldiers ready for a fight.”
    His voice showed clear disappointment. After so many years in the Islamic Fighting Alliance, the driver still failed to see beyond what was in front of his eyes. “They still have their weapons drawn?”
    “They do,” the driver replied.
    “Our men have become martyrs now.” The man’s voice held no regret. “Good thing they were our least