Chapters (124)
- Prologue: THE GODFATHERS
- Part One: THE “WHITE GIRL” CASE
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Part Two: FIDELITY, BRAVERY, INTEGRITY
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Chapter 41
- Chapter 42
- Chapter 43
- Chapter 44
- Chapter 45
- Chapter 46
- Chapter 47
- Chapter 48
- Chapter 49
- Chapter 50
- Chapter 51
- Part Three: WOLF TRACKS
- Chapter 52
- Chapter 53
- Chapter 54
- Chapter 55
- Chapter 56
- Chapter 57
- Chapter 58
- Chapter 59
- Chapter 60
- Chapter 61
- Chapter 62
- Chapter 63
- Chapter 64
- Chapter 65
- Chapter 66
- Chapter 67
- Chapter 68
- Chapter 69
- Chapter 70
- Chapter 71
- Chapter 72
- Chapter 73
- Chapter 74
- Chapter 75
- Chapter 76
- Chapter 77
- Part Four: INSIDE THE DEN
- Chapter 78
- Chapter 79
- Chapter 80
- Chapter 81
- Chapter 82
- Chapter 83
- Chapter 84
- Chapter 85
- Chapter 86
- Chapter 87
- Chapter 88
- Chapter 89
- Chapter 90
- Chapter 91
- Chapter 92
- Chapter 93
- Chapter 94
- Chapter 95
- Chapter 96
- Chapter 97
- Chapter 98
- Chapter 99
- Chapter 100
- Chapter 101
- Chapter 102
- Chapter 103
- Chapter 104
- Chapter 105
- Chapter 106
- Chapter 107
- Chapter 108
- Chapter 109
- Chapter 110
- Chapter 111
- Chapter 112
- Chapter 113
- Chapter 114
- Chapter 115
- Chapter 116
- Chapter 117
- Epilogue: WOLVES
- About the Author
The negotiator was a stocky guy with a thick mustache; he was wearing a flak jacket, but it wasn’t secured. “Get the fuck 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 rifles 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.”
Chapter 106
Chapter 106
PASHA SOROKIN wasn’t the Wolf. Was that possible? There was no way to know for sure. Over the next forty-eight hours it was confirmed that the men we had captured in Florida were Pasha Sorokin and Ruslan Federov. They were Red Mafiya, but both claimed never to have met the real Wolf. They said they had played the “parts” they were given—stand-in roles, according to them. Now they were willing to make the best deals they could.