Racing the Light (Elvis Cole #19; Joe Pike #8)(34)

When Pike glanced at Jon, Jon Stone was grinning.

“The scarecrow and the meatball. I just like saying it.”

They continued past without looking at the bungalows. Pike considered the woman and the man to be high-value targets. If there was a bug, they had planted it, so he didn’t want to risk losing them. Their presence required a change of plans, so Pike dug out his keys and passed them to Jon.

“No time to drive down for the Jeep. I need the Rover.”

“I know, I know. I’m still a go for the bungalow?”

“Yes.”

“Groovy. Let’s do it.”

Jon maintained their steady pace until they rounded the next curve, and hit the brakes. They threw open the doors, bailed, and Pike slid in behind the wheel. Jon went to the rear, popped the Rover’s hatch, and slung a go-bag over his shoulder. Pike watched him come forward in the driver’s-side window. Jon had an ear-to-ear grin. The grin made him look like a cruising shark.

“Know what I like saying even more? The cow and her cuck. Isn’t it mah-velous?”

“You don’t do this for money, Jon. You enjoy it.”

“The cow and her cuck. How’d you like to be that fuckin’ guy?”

Jon tapped the Rover and started away.

“Good hunting, brother. Stay groovy.”

Pike punched the gas. The scarecrow and her friend had crossed from right to left, which suggested they had parked on the right side of the street or come from a house on the same side. Pike had an image of a light-colored sedan, but it was possible they’d stepped around the sedan if they emerged from a house. Either way, he needed to be in position before they returned. He had two options: set up below the bungalows, hoping the targets went south, or above, hoping they went north. Driving south was the fastest and most direct route to Sunset Boulevard, but the street branched several times, and many of those branches led to Sunset. Driving north led to a meandering array of streets branching through the surrounding area, some looping south again to Sunset, and others leading as far north as the I-5 freeway. If Pike guessed wrong, he would lose them. He needed an eyes-on view to eliminate the guesswork, and this meant he had to set up on foot.

Pike turned east at the first turn, hammered the Rover north until he was above the bungalows, then hooked south again in a broken loop and approached the bungalows from above exactly as he had with Jon. Pike parked as close as possible while remaining hidden, and moved closer on foot. When the bungalows were in view, he found a place to wait behind the shadowed stalks of a yucca tree. Pike fit a headset connected with his phone into his ear, and positioned a military-grade Flexmike as thin as a toothpick to his lips. He surveyed the scene.

Ahead on the right were a small pickup, a couple of compacts, and the light sedan. The sedan faced away from him, and was parked almost directly across from the bungalows. Pike found this odd, and wondered what it meant.

Pike settled in to wait, and visualized possible scenarios. If the man and the woman drove away from him, he would run to the Rover, and drive like hell to catch up. If they turned around and came toward him, he would hide beside the house until they passed. Then he’d have to run for the Rover.

His cell phone vibrated.

He touched a button to answer. Stone, speaking soft.

Pike said, “Go.”

“I’m hanging out in some weeds up here. Smells like rats.”

Pike didn’t respond.

“They’re inside. Guess what? The windows look like three kinds of green hell. They got it lit with IR.”

Elvis had mentioned their night vision equipment. They were using infrared illuminators as a light source, and NVG to see. Jon was wearing his own night vision goggles, or he wouldn’t have been able to see the glow. The old man who lived in the mauve wouldn’t be seeing anything.

Jon said, “Stand by.”

A second passed.

“Lights out. The party’s over.”

Ten or twelve seconds passed before Jon spoke again.

“Early night, bro. Elvis is leaving the building.”

Another pause.

“Not your Elvis. The real Elvis.”

Another pause, and Jon’s tone changed.

“Dude.”

Pike waited.

“Their goggles are crazy, bro. Really small. Kinda flat. I don’t see any tubes. No shit. This is wild.”

A tube was a cylindrical image intensifier used to intensify available light in night vision equipment. Jon Stone had enormous experience with night vision gear, yet didn’t recognize these.

Pike said, “Shop later.”

“They’re on the steps. Check’m out.”

The woman and man emerged between the bungalows. They weren’t wearing the goggles now, but Pike noticed a bag slung on the man’s shoulder, which probably held their equipment.

Jon said, “You got’m?”

“Got’m.”

“Have you seen goggles like this?”

“Gear’s off. You good?”

“The old man came out. I’ll move in when he settles.”

“Rog.”

The woman and her round friend didn’t hurry. They went to the sedan, and the woman got in behind the wheel. When she opened the door, the interior lights did not come on. The man climbed into the shotgun seat. A moment later, the brake lights flared, the lights came on, and the sedan pulled away. Pike waited to see if they turned around, and kept waiting until he was sure they weren’t.