Use of Force

CHAPTER 58

At the end of the roof was another wall. Scaling it, they were able to get onto the roof of Naya’s apartment.

The bartender lived on the fourth and very top floor of the building. The challenge now was getting inside.

She had a small balcony off the back, but an awning obscured most of it. With a much steeper roof, and drop-offs on both sides, only as an absolute last resort would they try to jump down onto it. And even then, trying to do it in the dark would only up the risk. That’s why Harvath had wanted to use the skylight.

“It’s locked,” Barton said when they finally reached it.

Harvath wasn’t surprised. There was a lot of crime in Palermo. “Let me take a look,” he responded, pulling out his flashlight.

The skylight was over the bathroom and it was a piece of junk. Whoever had constructed it had used wired glass. One of the biggest myths on the planet was that the wire made it stronger, and therefore better for security purposes. In fact, the opposite was true. The inclusion of wire actually weakened the glass. It was good in fire situations, but that was it.

The skylight was old and in lousy shape. Pushing on it, he could feel it give. The wood around it was soft and rotten. Pulling out his knife, he tried to wedge it underneath without any luck. They desperately needed to get off the rooftop and into the apartment.

Motioning Barton and Lovett to move back, he put his knife back in his pocket and took out his pistol. Turning it in his hand, he drew his arm back and smashed the weapon into the skylight.

The entire pane of wired glass not only shattered, but fell out of the frame and crashed into the bathroom below.

Harvath raked the moldy edges of the skylight opening to make sure no glass or pieces of wire had been left behind and then got into position to cover Barton as he made the entry.

It was an easy drop — only about five feet. Barton had aimed to land on the toilet. He hit his target, but there was just one problem. The lid was as cheap as the skylight. One of his boots ended up punching right through and into the bowl.

Harvath had never seen the SEAL move so fast. His foot had barely touched the water before he leapt up, almost straight out of the skylight.

“Fuck,” Barton whispered, as he simultaneously pulled his pistol and tried to shake the water off his boot. Stepping over to the bathroom door, he peered into the apartment and then signaled for Lovett and Harvath to come down.

Even on the top floor, they could hear the dance music throbbing from the club downstairs. The apartment smelled like cigarettes and cheap perfume.

Quickly, they cleared the rest of the rooms, and, confident no one was home, they cleaned up the glass in the bathroom and began to get everything they needed pulled together.

Forty-five minutes later, Harvath’s phone vibrated with a message from Staelin. Naya had received a text and was now divvying up tips with the other bartender. When she handed her register drawer to one of the managers, Staelin pinged him again and told Harvath to expect company.

Because of the music, they couldn’t hear any movement coming up the stairs. But soon enough, there was the unmistakable sound of a key in the lock.

When the door opened, Naya stepped inside. She was very tall and very pretty.

She closed and locked the door behind her, then pulled off her boots and tossed them in the corner.

Next, she pulled off her top and threw it through her open bedroom door onto the bed. She did the same with her skirt. She wasn’t wearing a bra or panties.

Walking naked into her bathroom, she reached behind the curtain and started the shower. At the sink, she squeezed some toothpaste onto her toothbrush and began brushing her teeth.

It was then, as she looked in the mirror, that she noticed the hole in the roof above the toilet behind her.

Instantly, she spun around, and when she did, she saw the woman at her bathroom door with a gun pointed at her.

“Be calm,” Lovett told her in Italian. “We’re not here for you. Do everything we say and nothing bad will happen.”