And they’d damn well better get Quinlan back right after that.

They rounded the corner, and the crowd began to thin. Max hadn’t seen any sign of the agents yet, and he hoped he didn’t.

Samantha’s face flashed in his mind. Wide eyes. Soft lips. The gun she’d given to Max pressed into his back.

“Th-there.” Frank’s shaking voice. No longer hard or arrogant. Max hadn’t heard the guy sound this way since he’d gotten the phone call from Frank almost a year ago. The call that had come in the middle of the night. The one that had told Max that his mother had died.

Max’s hold on the duffel bags tightened. Ten million dollars. A hell of a lot of cash. Two large bags for him, two for Frank.

“He said… behind the broken oak,” Frank murmured.

The broken oak tree waited, split straight in the middle by a blast of lightning long ago. Max glanced around. He couldn’t see any more joggers. No more women pushing their kids. Hell, they were just going to dump the money? Here? What if someone else came along? What if—

Two men came toward them from the woods. Had to be men. Tall, nearly his height, with thick shoulders. They had on black jogging suits, and ski masks covered their faces.

They also had guns equipped with silencers. The better for killing when others were around.

“Drop the bags and back away.” This came from the guy slightly in front. The one with his weapon pointed straight at Max. The other guy, about an inch shorter, had his gun trained on Frank.

Frank dropped the bags. So did Max. The bags thudded onto the ground. Max and Frank stepped back, their hands up. “We’re not armed,” Frank said, raising his voice.

Bullshit. Max knew Frank had a gun tucked under his jacket. Frank always kept a gun in the main house, locked in his bedroom safe. Frank had taken the weapon out before they left for the drop.

“Turn around and walk away!” The order was barked at them. “If either one of you looks back, I’ll put a bullet in both of you.”

Max’s body tensed. “What about Quinlan? When do we get him back? When?”

“When the money’s counted,” the man taunted. Max saw the jerk’s finger tighten around the trigger. “Now move or I’ll tell my friend here to shoot the old man in the head.”

Max believed that he’d do it. Slowly, carefully, he turned around.

“Keep your damn arms up, every minute! You got me? Keep ’em up!”

Max kept his arms up and started walking away with Frank by his side. And with guns pointed at their backs.

“Two with guns,” Jon Ramirez’s low voice drifted through the earpiece Luke wore. Luke bent down, pretending to tie his shoe near the entrance of the park. “Drop’s been made. Ridgeway and Malone are walking away.”

“Stay with the perps,” Luke ordered quietly, speaking into the mouthpiece that was hidden just inside the hood of his jogging suit. Two men. Figured. They’d separate as soon as they left the park to make tracking harder. Smart. Not smart enough.

“You and Hyde break off, each taking a perp,” because the big boss was out there watching too, “and let’s see where they’re gonna take us,” he ordered.

“They’ve got the money. They’re moving.”

Luke rose and made a show of stretching. Every muscle in his body was tight with tension. One dead vic already today. Not another.

“No visual on Ridgeway and Malone. Perps are in sight. Out.”

Ridgeway and Malone should be rounding the corner any minute and coming back out of the thick forest path. They’d be clear in just a few more moments. Hurry up.

Max’s hands were still up. The thud of footsteps disappeared into the distance. The a**holes, running away with their money.

But they wouldn’t get far. And right then, Max was real glad the SSD was hiding in those woods.

“Are we clear?” Frank asked, and Max saw him begin to lower his arms.

Then he heard the twig snap behind them. Too damn close.

If either of you looks back, I’ll put a bullet in both of you.

He let his hands lower. Slow. Easy. Frank had flinched. He’d heard the snap, too.

Not gonna wait until we look back, are you? Max sucked in a breath and slammed into Frank. Fire ripped along his left arm, a blast of pain accompanied by no sound. Sonofabitch. As his blood spilled onto the ground, Max yanked out Samantha’s gun.

Another man—no, one from before? He couldn’t tell for sure. Max just saw a man in a black jogging suit with a black ski mask, his gun up and aiming—

Max lifted his own weapon. No cover. Shit. “Get to the trees.” He fired at the bastard.

The bullet thudded into the man’s shoulder. Can’t kill him. He knows where Quinlan is.

The man screamed. A loud, long shriek of pain and rage.

Max lunged for the trees and fired again as the a**hole lifted his gun and shot back at him.

“Gunfire!” Luke took off running, aware that the woman with the short blond hair and bright pink jogging suit was right with him. Moving fast, faster… Running toward the thunder of gunshots even as everyone else streaked away in a mass of confusion and fear.

The woman was Sam in disguise, because he’d ordered her in right after Malone and Ridgeway left the house. She kept perfect pace with him as they rushed for the line of trees. They rounded the corner and went in low, sticking to the tree line as much as possible, and Luke saw…

Blood, staining the ground. Ridgeway and Malone weren’t there. No one was there and—

“Here!” A deep, booming voice called from the brush.

“Max,” Sam whispered and raced forward in a flash, snaking through the trees as Luke stuck tight to her tail.

“Secure the area,” Luke snapped into his mike. “We’ve got men down in the first quadrant. The perps are armed. Use extreme caution.”

“Max?” Sam fell beside him.

He blinked at her, shaking his head. “What the hell? You aren’t supposed to be here!”

“She’s an agent with the SSD.” Luke kept his gun up. “She’s wherever we need her to be.”

Blood dripped down Max’s arm in thick, dark rivulets. Sam clamped her hands over his wound. “How bad?”

“Went right through.” Sweat beaded his upper lip. “Just hurts like a bitch.”

“Malone?” Luke questioned the other man. He was kneeling on the ground and hunched forward.

“I’m all right.” Gruff. “Bastard shot at me and would have blasted a hole in my head if Max hadn’t been here.”

Luke noticed both men still had guns in their hands. Holding ’em tight.

“Who are we looking for?” Sam asked as she worked to staunch the blood from Max’s wound. “Who did this?”

“Don’t… ah… didn’t see much… a guy from the looks of things. Maybe six two, two hundred pounds, black jogging suit—”

“Two men wearing all black,” Frank muttered, his knuckles white around the gun. “We gave them the money and they tried to kill us.”

Not part of the MO. What was going down here?

“Get the EMTs here,” Luke ordered, knowing they were already on standby.

Max shook his head. “No, they could still be watching. They’ll see—”

“They know, Max.” Sam’s voice. Tighter and harder than Luke had ever heard before. “When the shots were fired, we ran right over, anyone watching—they know.” Her breath heaved out. “You’re bleeding too much, and it’s not stopping. We have to get you to a hospital.”

“Quinlan—”

“Our priority is you.” She nearly shouted at him. “We don’t have Quinlan here; we’ve got you!”

“I’m all right.” A muscle flexed along his jaw, and Max caught her hands. “I’m not going to be hauled away from here, not while Quinlan is still out there.”

Luke’s gaze swept the ground. Too much blood. Shit. Sam was right. The bullet must have clipped an artery. “EMT, now.”

The park would be insane. Luke knew it. Those gunshots would have sent folks right into panic mode. Chaos would reign as everyone ran.

That would be just what the kidnappers needed. So easy to disappear in the madness.

“Ramirez, tell me you’ve got him!” Luke said. Ramirez wouldn’t have lost his mark. No way. Ramirez never missed his man.

Static crackled in his ear. Then… “I got him.” But those words didn’t come from the earpiece.

They came straight from Ramirez as the agent shoved through the brush. Oh, hell.

“The perp circled back. I stayed clear at first, to see what he was doing…” His dark eyes narrowed. “I had to fire. He had a clear shot at Ridgeway. There was no choice.”

Sam’s breath hissed out. “Where is he?”

“On the ground, about fifteen feet back.” Cold.

“We’re not gonna be tailing him anywhere,” Luke said and cursed beneath his breath.

“Fuck,” Ridgeway growled, and Luke didn’t know if it was because of the pain he was in or because they’d lost a lead.

“The second man—where is he? Where is he?” Luke wrenched the tiny microphone as he fired out his question. Hyde was there. He’d—

“Moving,” came Hyde’s cool voice. “The suspect is driving fast, in a blue pickup truck, heading west.”

Hell, yeah. Calmer, Luke spun away as the EMTs burst on the scene. “I want chopper coverage on this a**hole,” he instructed, knowing the command center was monitoring the line. “Keep him in sight, but stay back. Give me the tag number and let’s track this rat back to his hole.”

“What about Quinlan?” Frank demanded. “Where’s my son? Dammit, is he even still alive? What happened to that other boy? Where is he—”

In pieces. Monica had called to go give Luke the news. He lowered the mike, just for a moment. “Sir, stay with the agents,” he said to Malone. Luke threw a quick glance at Ramirez and Sam. Ramirez nodded but Sam didn’t look away from Ridgeway.

Luke sucked in a quick breath and turned his attention to the civilians. “Until this is over, you’re both remaining in protective custody.” He wasn’t losing either man.

Hyde rattled off the license plate number in his left ear. The techs would have heard it, too, and the APB would be hitting the airwaves—but with the order to stand down. Follow the perp, but no confrontations. Not yet.

“What happened to the other young man?” Frank demanded, voice shaking.

Luke holstered his gun. Malone and Ridgeway deserved honesty. He always tried to give the victims honesty when he could. Even when the truth hurt. “They killed him.” With the way this drop had gone down, Quinlan Malone would be the next to go. If he wasn’t already dead.

But that part he didn’t tell them, because he knew Malone was already close to breaking.

“I’m coming with you,” Ridgeway’s cold voice stopped Luke as he turned away.

Luke slanted a fast glance over his shoulder. Bloody, but on his feet now, Ridgeway stared back at him. Sam stood right beside him.

“You’re not shoving me to the side,” Ridgeway said. “I’m coming.”

Luke could understand the man’s determination. This was about family. Didn’t even matter that it wasn’t by blood. Family was family.

“I played by your damn rules,” Ridgeway snarled, “and look at the shit that’s happened.”

Luke squared his shoulders. Did the guy really know what he was asking? “You understand what we might find.” Once they’d tracked the kidnappers back to their base, there might not be a happy ending. Just more blood and another body.

“You all think he’s already dead.” Ridgeway’s gaze darted to Sam. She didn’t speak. Just stared right back at him. Once, Luke knew she would have tried to give him hope. Not now.

“Either way,” Ridgeway said, not even flinching when two EMTs grabbed for his arm. “I’m coming.”

It would be so easy to put the man down. To lock him up until this hell was over. But that just wasn’t Luke’s way. “Stitch him up,” he ordered the EMTs. “He’s bleeding all over our scene.” If they could stop the bleeding, if an artery hadn’t been nicked…

Then he’d give the guy what he wanted. Luke just hoped Ridgeway knew what he was asking for.

“Stay with him,” he ordered Sam. Then he inclined his head toward Ridgeway. “You’ll stay with the team for as long as we can let you.”

The two EMTs got to work on Ridgeway. His jaw was clenched tight, blood covering his shirt. His right hand was locked around Sam’s. Luke couldn’t tell if Sam was holding him, trying to give her lover support, or if Ridgeway was trying to chain her to him.

Maybe it was both.

The blue pickup swept into the parking garage, driving nice and slow, and circled down to rest on the second level, near the side entrance. The level without a security camera. The level half-concealed by darkness thanks to the lights he’d broken earlier.

The driver hopped out, now clad in a white t-shirt and blue jeans. “We’ve got it. Hot damn, we got it.” Sweat coated his black hair, making it stick hard to his head.

The guy hurried toward him as he waited near the old sedan. They wouldn’t have long for the transfer, maybe a minute. Less. “Throw the bags in the trunk,” he told the driver.

His trunk was already open. Ten seconds. The first two bags were tossed inside. Thirteen seconds. The other bags landed with a thud.