“Head to the south end of Belmont Park and turn right into the parking lot. Go straight ahead. We’ll be at the boardwalk near a freestanding building. I think it’s a public restroom. Cops in the area responding to reported gunshots. Call Harvey and update him, tell him I’m okay.”

“I will.”

“My feet are in bad shape from broken glass.”

“I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

He called Cantrell next.

“Echo five?” she asked.

“Affirmative. Echo four is down. Pay phone not available. Target apprehended alive.”

“What’s Echo four’s condition?”

He heard the concern in her voice for Harv and appreciated it. “Stable.”

“Your location?”

“Not on an open line.”

“Preserve target at all costs. I repeat, preserve tar—”

He ended the call before she finished and hauled Montez up from the ground. Thankfully, the lighting was considerably less intrusive back here. He wondered if Belmont Park employed more than one security guard. With a little luck, he’d be clear of this place in the next ten seconds with no one the wiser.

That’s when he saw it—a bright beam from a police cruiser swept across the parking lot. Keeping his prisoner controlled became critical. Without a doubt, Montez would prefer to be in police custody.

The beam swept back the opposite direction, but its brightness had grown.

He forced Montez into a small U-shaped alcove deep with shadow and listened as the police cruiser arrived. A split second later, the cruiser’s red and blue strobe light illuminated the plaza. Predictably, its obnoxious spotlight beam invaded the exact path he needed to take. Even from twenty feet away—and without seeing its source directly—the blinding light destroyed his night vision. He’d need at least thirty seconds for it to return. He turned his head and closed his eyes. Just breathe. In deep, out slowly—

Then he heard a chilling sound.

Quick, hard-soled footfalls.

And the distinctive jingle that accompanies a security guard. From behind, the way he’d just come.

Montez’s bloody footprints.

He reached into his pocket, pulled the Sig, and huddled over Montez. Nathan clamped his free hand over the gag and jammed the Sig’s suppressor under Montez’s chin.

The same security guard he’d seen earlier stomped into view, but surprisingly, didn’t seem to be following footprints. The guard ran past his hiding place and rounded the corner. Things would’ve turned ugly if the guard had looked in his direction.

He eased his weight off of Montez enough to gain his feet.

The next thirty seconds stretched into an eternity.

Catching him completely off guard, Montez drove his head back and smashed him squarely on the chin.

His vision grayed, then winked out.

He tightened his grip on the Sig in case Montez made a move for it.

Blinded from the impact, he struggled to keep his balance and swung the pistol like a club.

And missed.