Robert Crais - The First Rule

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The organized criminal gangs of the former Soviet Union are bound by what they call the thieves' code. The first rule is this: A thief must forsake his mother, father, brothers, and sisters. He must have no family – no wife, no children. We are his family. If any of the rules are broken, it is punishable by death.
Frank Meyer had the American dream – until the day a professional crew invaded his home and murdered everyone inside. The only thing out of the ordinary about Meyer was that – before the family and the business and the normal life – a younger Frank Meyer had worked as a professional mercenary, with a man named Joe Pike. The police think Meyer was hiding something very bad, but Pike does not. With the help of Cole, he sets out on a hunt of his own – an investigation that quickly entangles them both in a web of ancient grudges, blood ties, blackmail, vengeance, double crosses, and cutthroat criminality, and at the heart of it, an act so terrible even Pike and Cole have no way to measure it. Sometimes, the past is never dead. It's not even past.

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She said, “What about Darko?”

“Elvis and I will meet him in Venice. We picked a location close to the marina.”

Walsh looked at Cole.

“Both of you?”

Pike said, “He’s going to have people. It’ll look better if I have people, too.”

Cole pointed at himself.

“I’m his people.”

Pike went on with it.

“He thinks we’re meeting to pick up the money. The real reason is to give him this.”

Stone showed them a handheld GPS locator.

“He thinks he’s getting this to follow Joe and Elvis to the guns, but we’re going to use it to follow him. You’ll be able to track him, too, when you download the software.”

Carlos was grinning.

“I like it.”

Hurwitz said, “So Venice will be our start point?”

“Only to meet Darko. From Venice, we’re going to the marina. That’s the true start.”

Walsh said, “We don’t know the end point. Jakovich will be taking them to the guns.”

“If he takes them out on the boat, we’re screwed.”

Hurwitz wasn’t thrilled, but he shrugged.

“Okay. So we trail and set up on the roll. We’ve done it before.”

They spent the next hour going over their plan and setting up their equipment. Stone loaded his software onto Carlos’s laptop, then fit locators on Pike and Cole, one in Cole’s hair, and the other on the back of Pike’s belt buckle. Both Walsh and Hurwitz made multiple calls, coordinating the tactical SRT team and six additional Special Agents.

At twelve forty-five, the agents left, heading for Venice to rendezvous at their staging area. Walsh was the last agent to leave. She hung back until the others were gone, then pulled Pike aside.

She said, “Nobody likes what happened up at Lake View, buddy. Makes me wonder what you were trying to do.”

“I told you what happened.”

“Just remember-when the shit goes down, Michael Darko belongs to me.”

At exactly one o’clock, Pike and Cole climbed into Pike’s Jeep and drove down the hill. Stone had already gone. Cole made an exaggerated sigh.

“Finally. Some alone time for Dad and Dad.”

Pike didn’t answer. He was thinking about the kid. They had left the boy with Cole’s next-door neighbor, Grace Gonzalez, and Pike wondered how he was doing.

Michael Darko was waiting for them at the end of Market Street in Venice. Market was lined with diagonal parking spaces, and died at the Venice boardwalk, just around the corner from the Sidewalk Cafe. Cole suggested it because he liked the pizza, but Darko agreed because the location was busy with tourists, street performers, and locals.

Two black Beemer sedans and a black Escalade were hunkered together, taking up most of the spaces.

Cole said, “Don’t these guys know any color but black?”

Pike pulled up beside the Beemers, and got out. Cole stayed in the Jeep. As Pike got out, both Beemers opened, and Darko and three of his men emerged.

Darko stared at Cole.

“Who is this?”

“He’s going to help me check the rifles. Jakovich expects it.”

Pike gave him the handheld locator and showed him how it worked. It showed a circle of green light on a map.

“This is how you follow us. See the light? That’s us. Don’t follow too close because Jakovich might see you. Hang back. Use this to stay with us.”

Darko and two of his men had a conversation about the device, which Pike didn’t understand, and then Darko opened the Beemer’s back door. He took out a gym bag that was much larger than the one Walsh delivered.

“The money. Count it, you want.”

Banded packs of hundred-dollar bills filled the bag. Pike didn’t bother to count.

“Don’t need to count it. We take the guns, you’re getting it back.”

Darko smiled, then winked at his friends.

“You know, this works, maybe you and me, we will do business again.”

Pike said, “I doubt it.”

Darko was thoughtful.

“So tell me something. How are you going to deliver me to Jakovich?”

“I told him you think I’m going to sell the guns to you. I told him I would set up the meet with you, and when you showed up, his guys could kill you.”

Pike made a pistol of his hand, pointed at Darko, and pulled the trigger.

Darko seemed to realize what Pike had said, and slowly looked around at the surrounding buildings.

Pike said, “We’d better go. He’s waiting.”

Pike got back into the Jeep and headed for the marina.

43

Pike could see them in the rearview, eight or ten cars back, but the three large black vehicles bunched together looked like a freight train.

Cole phoned Jon Stone and described their cars.

“Two Beemer sedans and an Escalade, all black. You reading us okay?”

Cole listened for a minute, then closed his phone.

“They’re clear. We’re clear. He’ll pass it to Walsh.”

They drove south along the beach, then turned inland at Washington, heading for the Palawan Way marina entrance. It was close, and getting closer. The SRT and Special Agent teams were set up on both sides of Palawan Way outside the marina. At least one SRT car had taken a position inside on the island, but Pike did not look for them, and probably wouldn’t have found them if he had.

They turned onto Palawan, drove to the hotel at the end of the finger, and parked in exactly the same spot Pike had parked in the day before.

Pike said, “You ready?”

“I’m good.”

Pike called Walsh.

“We’re at the gate.”

“We can see that, Pike.”

“Calling him now.”

Pike broke the connection, then called Jakovich. A man who wasn’t Jakovich answered.

“Pike. For Mr. Jakovich.”

Pike expected them to buzz him in, but they didn’t.

The voice said, “We’ll be right out.”

Five minutes later, Milos Jakovich and his two bodyguards came through the gate. Jakovich hesitated when he saw Cole, and Pike could see he wasn’t happy, but the three of them finally approached.

Jakovich said, “Who is this?”

“He’s going to help me check the weapons. If we make the deal, he’ll arrange the transportation.”

Jakovich looked even less happy.

“I’m not going to stand there while you inspect three thousand rifles. It will take all night just to take them out of the crates.”

“I don’t care if you wait or not, but I’m going to check them. This isn’t a surprise. I told you I would.”

Jakovich was clearly irritated, and waved his hand.

“Let me see the money.”

Pike got out, and showed him Darko’s gym bag.

“Seven hundred fifty.”

Jakovich rifled a few of the packs, then pulled a bill at random and examined it. He took a marker from his pocket, wrote on the bill, and studied the ink.

Cole said, “Good thing they aren’t counterfeit.”

Jakovich glanced at him, then put the bill back into the bag.

“Okay. We go.”

He raised his hand, and two dark gray Hummers rumbled out from either side of the hotel. One stopped in front of the Jeep, and the other behind, trapping it.

Jakovich said, “We go in my cars. I like it better that way.”

Pike did not look at Cole or hesitate. He followed Jakovich to the closest Hummer. One of the bodyguards brought Cole to the second Hummer. Separation was bad, but showing fear was worse.

Pike said, “How far?”

“Not far.”

As soon as he was in the backseat, a man in the front passenger seat pointed a pistol at him.

Jakovich said, “We going to take your gun this time.”

The other big man patted for his guns, and immediately pulled back.

“He is wearing a vest.”

Pike said, “Precaution.”

Jakovich tugged at his shirt.

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