When Stone opened the rear door, Pike saw a long, narrow cardboard box printed with Chinese characters. Stone opened it. The rifle was wrapped in a greasy plastic wrapper. Stone slid the rifle from its wrapper, and placed it on the box.

“Never been fired. The factory preservative is still on it.”

The rifle was mottled with a synthetic preservative that smelled like overripe peaches. The stock and pistol grip were made of a bright orange wood that was slick with the preservative. The Russians had gone to polymer stocks, but the Chinese still went with the wood. Pike opened the bolt to inspect the receiver and breech. They were flawless.

Stone said, “See? Not even a nick, bro. Mint condition.”

Pike worked the bolt several times. It was sticky. You had to put a thousand rounds through these things before they loosened up, but they were damn near indestructible. He slipped the rifle back into its wrapper, and returned it to the box. A 30-round magazine in its own plastic bag was included.

“Good work, Jon. Perfect.”

They put the box into Pike’s Jeep, and went back inside.

Michael Darko called at ten minutes after seven. Both the baby and Stone were sleeping, and Cole was checking on Rina. Pike was doing push-ups when the phone buzzed.

“Pike.”

“You been trying to kill me for four days. Why should I talk to you?”

“Three million dollars.”

“What are you talking about?”

“We both want the guns.”

“I want the guns. What you want, I don’t care.”

“You can’t get the guns. I can. My deal is in place, and you have a buyer.”

Darko hesitated.

“You are lying.”

“No, I’m not lying, but I need you to make it happen. That’s forced me to reconsider our relationship.”

“You think me a fool.”

“I have his grandson. That got you nowhere because he hates you. Me, he doesn’t hate. I met him yesterday at his boat to see the guns. I did, we dealt, they’re mine.”

Another hesitation.

“You saw the arms?”

“A sample. He gave it to me when we closed the deal, but now there’s a way to make even more money. I’ll show you. Hollywood Boulevard outside Musso’s in one hour. At the curb in full view where we’ll both be safe. You’ll see my Jeep.”

Pike hung up. He knew he couldn’t convince Darko with more talk. Darko would have to convince himself, and now he would either show or he wouldn’t.

Cole was back in the living room when Pike put down the phone. Stone was still sleeping. Pike explained what he was going to do, and Cole offered to come, but Pike turned him down.

“I’ll need your help later, but not now. Take care of the kid. Let Jon get some rest. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”