Page 86 of Spymaster

He fired twice at the man’s left knee and then two more times into his left shoulder. He wanted him incapacitated, not dead.

The Russian dropped the knife and it clattered to the ground as he stumbled backward. Stepping in, Harvath kicked it aside and shoved Nyström fully out of the way.

Holstering his pistol, he quickly patted Gashi down to make sure he didn’t have any more weapons. Then, grabbing him by the collar, he yanked him away from the house and back toward the patrol car.

The Chief Inspector was slow to follow.

When Harvath looked back, he could see that the Swede was badly injured. He was bleeding profusely from his left arm and part of his chest.

He had raised his arm to shield himself from Gashi’s knife, which had cut right through the chunky plastic strap of his digital watch, and deep into his forearm, and had kept going across part of his chest—above where his vest was. The weapon was incredibly sharp, having cut through his jacket and the uniform beneath before slicing through his flesh, revealing bone.

Dumping Gashi behind the patrol vehicle, Harvath buffaloed him with the butt of his Sig Sauer and gave the signal for his team to move in.

Just as they began to appear from the trees Gashi’s own team appeared in the windows and the doorway of the house, and opened fire.

CHAPTER 50

Nyström, despite his injuries, found a reservoir of strength and summoned an incredible burst of speed.

As he caught up with Harvath behind the patrol vehicle, his pistol was already out and he was putting rounds on the house.

“Where’s your med kit?” Harvath yelled as he slammed a fresh magazine into his Sig and returned fire at the Spetsnaz soldiers.

“I’ll be okay.”

Nyström was bleeding a lot and starting to look weak. He clearly needed medical attention, and soon. But before that could happen, they needed to neutralize the threat inside the house.

Hailing Sloane over his radio, Harvath said, “Hit them with the gas!”

Seconds later, the first tear gas canister sailed out of the launcher, crashed through one of the windows, and began aerosolizing inside.

Quickly, Sloane worked her way through the trees and pumped three more rounds into different parts of the house.

Harvath had made the rules of engagement crystal clear. Whoever stepped outside holding a weapon was a legitimate target.

With tear gas filling the structure, Harvath secured Gashi with Flex-Cuffs and then searched for the medical bag in the patrol car.

Finding it, he returned to Nyström.

The Chief Inspector was leaning against the left front tire, trying to use the engine block as cover. Laying the bag on the ground next to him, Harvath tore it open and removed what he needed to tend to the injured man.

Around them, gunfire crackled as his team returned fire and put rounds on the beach house. Windows shattered and shards of glass went flying as pieces of wood splintered in all directions.

Using a pair of shears to cut away the clothing, Harvath examined Nyström’s wound. He was bleeding badly, but the wound wasn’t spurting. Applying a tourniquet could mean the loss of his arm.

He ripped open packages of bandages and used an Israeli battle dressing to stanch the bleeding. It was all he could do for the moment.

Taking the cop’s empty sidearm, he ejected the spent magazine, flicked it aside, and inserted a new one. “You’re topped up,” he said as he depressed the slide release and handed the weapon back to the Chief Inspector.

Popping up over the hood, Harvath focused on the front door. When two Spetsnaz operatives emerged, choking on tear gas, but with weapons still in their hands, he and his team let their rounds fly. Both men dropped dead right there on the doorstep.

From the rear of the house came the sound of more gunfire. Harvath knew that meant additional Spetsnaz operatives were likely trying to escape via the back door.

Three more Russian soldiers appeared at the front door, stumbling over the bodies of their dead comrades, but with their hands held high.

Unlike his lousy Swedish, Harvath actually spoke some passable Russian, and he yelled out a series of commands, which the remaining men obeyed. He warned them to stay facedown on the ground, and said that if they did not, they would be shot.

With the three Spetsnaz lying in the dirt, plus the two dead at the door, that made five. He radioed Sloane, who told him that they’d killed three more who had come running out the back with their guns blazing. That brought the total to eight—the same number of men that had been seen running at the Sparrman farm.

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