The Big Bad Wolf

CHAPTER 105

WE HAD STARTED TOWARD the Davis house with the brown-and-white cocker spaniel

when a report came over the two-way: “Two suspicious males. Heading toward Las Olas

Boulevard. They’ve spotted us! We’re in pursuit.”



We were only a few blocks from the shopping district and got there in minutes. The cocker

spaniel was barking in the backseat. Fort Lauderdale police patrol cars and FBI sedans had

already formed a tight ring around a Gap clothing store. More patrol cars were arriving, their

sirens screaming in the night. The street was crowded, and the local police were having trouble

stopping pedestrian flow.

Mahoney drove up to the blockade. We left a window cracked for the dog. He and I jumped

out and ran toward the Gap. We were wearing black jackets, carrying handguns.

The store lights were blazing. I could see people inside. But not the Wolf. Not the bodyguard

either.

“We think it’s him,” an agent told us when we got up close to the store.

“How many gunmen inside?” I asked.

“We count two. Two that we know about. Could be more. There’s a lot of confusion.”



“Yeah, no shit,” said Mahoney. “I get that impression.”



For the next few minutes nothing useful happened, except that more Lauderdale patrol cars

arrived on the scene. So did a heavily armed and armored SWAT unit. A hostage negotiator

showed up. Then a pair of news helicopters began to hover over the Gap and surrounding

stores.

“Nobody’s answering the goddamn phone inside,” the negotiator reported. “It just rings.”



Mahoney looked questioningly at me and I shrugged. “We don’t even know if it’s them

inside.”



The negotiator took up a bullhorn. “This is the Fort Lauderdale police. Come out of the store

now. We’re not going to negotiate. Come out with your hands up. Whoever’s in there, get out

now!”



The approach sounded wrong to me. Too confrontational. I walked up to the negotiator.

“I’m FBI, Agent Cross. Do we need to back him into a corner? He’s violent. He’s extremely

dangerous.”



The negotiator was a stocky guy with a thick mustache; he was wearing a black jacket, but it

wasn’t secured. “Get the f*ck away from me!” he shouted in my face.

“This is a federal case,” I shouted right back. I grabbed the bullhorn out of his hand. The

negotiator went at me with his fists, but Mahoney wrestled him to the ground. The press was

watching; to hell with them. We had a job to do here.

“This is the FBI!” I said into the bullhorn. “I want to talk to Pasha Sorokin.” Then suddenly

the strangest thing of the night happened,

and it had been a very strange night. I almost couldn’t believe it. Two men emerged from the

front door of the Gap. They held their hands in front of their faces, shielding



them from the cameras, or maybe from us. “Get down on the ground!” I shouted at them.

They didn’t



comply. But then I could see it was Sorokin and the bodyguard. “We’re not armed,”

Sorokin yelled, loudly enough for everybody to hear. “We’re innocent citizens. We have no

guns.”



I didn’t know whether to believe him. None of us knew what to make of this. The TV

helicopter over our heads was getting too close.

“What’s he doing?” Mahoney asked me.

“Don’t know … Get down!” I shouted again.

The Wolf and the bodyguard continued to walk toward us. Slowly and carefully.

I moved ahead with Mahoney. We had our guns out. Was this a trick? What could they try

with dozens of ribs and handguns aimed at them?

The Wolf smiled when he saw me. Why the hell was he smiling?

“So, you caught us,” he called out. “Big deal! It doesn’t matter, you know. I have a surprise for

you, FBI. Ready? My name is Pasha Sorokin. But I’m not the Wolf.” He laughed. “I’m just some

guy shopping in the Gap. My clothes got wet. I’m not the Wolf, Mr. FBI. Is that funny or what?

Does it make your day? It makes mine. And it will make the Wolf’s too.”