Taken

24

Joe Pike

Pike watched Cole with Park and Ramos by the cab of the long flatbed. Jon Stone was beside him, watching Park’s soldiers, but Pike kept watch over Cole.

They were across the street in a storage room above the transmission shop next door to the taco stand. Close, in case it went south.

Stone eyeballed the scene from a perch on an old desk with an M4 across his legs. Pike was stretched on the neighboring desk, standing sentry through a Zeiss telescopic sighting system mounted to a Remington 700 mountain rifle chambered in 7mm Magnum. Using this scope and rifle, Pike could hit cantaloupes at eight hundred meters.

Next to him, Stone’s voice.

“This is fucked-up shit.”

Pike did not move his eye from the sight picture. Cole, Ramos, Park. The Zeiss was fitted with a laser range finder displaying the range in tiny red numerals in the upper right quadrant of the sight picture. Elvis Cole was forty-two meters away. Overkill.

Stone said, “You know I’m right. He’s going to hang his ass over the edge with these two shitbirds? If I’m lying, I’m dying. I sure as hell wouldn’t.”

Ramos walked away.

“Two.”

“Got him.”

Pike stayed with Cole and Park, letting Stone pick up Ramos. They had designated Park as Target One and Ramos as Target Two. Jon was on Two. If the meet went bad, Jon would drop Ramos and Pike would drop Park. They would then lay down suppressing fire so Cole could escape. If Cole was killed or wounded, they would terminate everyone in the tow yard.

“What I’m saying is, I know time is of the essence an’ all that, but trusting these people to get him inside and keep their pieholes shut is what we in the trade call ‘dubious.’ Two and his boys mounting up. Hasta luego, shitbirds.”

“Rog.”

“Out the gate. Gone.”

“Rog.”

Park and Cole finished their conversation, and separated. Pike stayed with Park.

“One.”

“On it. Cole’s going to his car. One’s joining up with his men.”

Pike saw it as Stone said it. Park met two of his men, spoke briefly, then moved with them to his black Beemer. If Jon gave the word, Pike could and would drop all three in less than two seconds.

“What I’m saying is-are you listening? This Syrian asshole got his inside information about that truck from somewhere, which means someone inside Ramos’s crew or Park’s crew is selling them out. Shit, for all we know, people in both these turds’ crews are selling them out. That fuckin’ Syrian might be swimming in information. Have you thought of that?”

Park’s Beemer drove away. Pike swung his rifle, and picked up Cole getting into his yellow Corvette. It needed a wash.

Pike lowered his rifle, and stood.

“Yes. I don’t like this either.”

They packed their gear, and hustled down to follow.

Jack and Krista: six days after they were taken