Montez couldn’t believe it. Without warning, McBride dropped and rolled into cover. What tipped him off? The bloody footprint ruse should’ve worked. He’d fully expected McBride to freeze in confusion and turn around. But it didn’t happen. The man obviously had a quick mind and swift reactions.

Now what? The blood pooling in his shoe reflected the desperation of his situation. He didn’t have time for a prolonged engagement.

And that security guard could return at any moment.

He needed a new plan. Fast.

***

The bullet never came.

He flattened himself against the wall inside a small alcove and took a deep breath.

Stephen King, I owe you one.

Now what? There wasn’t time to wait for Montez’s next move.

And the security guard could reappear any second. SDPD too. One of their A-Star helicopters was probably on the way.

He scanned the concrete for drops of blood toward the south. Nothing. If Montez had hopped on one foot to disguise his blood trail, there’d still be drops of blood going that direction.

He needed options.

Think, Nathan.

Think.

And then it came to him.

***

A sickening chill hammered Montez as he realized what was happening. No. Not now!

His cell phone had chirped to life.

He’d forgotten to mute it. In the near silence of the park, it sounded like a blaring car alarm. He quickly switched gun hands and reached into his pants pocket. He needed to silence the damned thing before it rang a third time.

***

Without hesitating, Nathan pocketed his phone and sprinted toward the ringing sound, his approach silent.

Gun first, he approached the souvenir kiosks from the opposite side of the walkway. He knew he’d scored a direct hit when the ringing ended in the middle of the third chime. It hadn’t lasted long enough to be forwarded to voice mail.

Montez.

But there were three kiosks, which meant two places to hide between them.

Which one?

If he guessed wrong, it could be fatal. Going with instinct, he rushed the first gap and caught Montez peering around the opposite side.

Bingo.

Three steps later, he drove the butt of his gun onto the base of Montez’s skull and had the satisfaction of seeing his former tormentor collapse to his knees.

The small handgun clattered away into the walkway.

And now, you’re mine.

Chapter 44

Chapter  44

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t my old pal, Monty Goose.” Nathan felt the other stir, like a bull testing its steel enclosure. Keeping his face hidden in shadow, he retrieved Montez’s pistol from the walkway before kicking his captive onto his side. He patted him down for additional weapons. Nothing. But in Montez’s inner vest pocket, he found a thumb drive.

“W—who are you?”

“You don’t recognize my voice? Then take a look.” He moved his face into the orange light slicing into the gap between the kiosks.

“You!”