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Both men are alive.

The rifleman forces Elliot toward the boat.

Peter collapses.

One of the captors kicks him in the side.

I grip the edge of the table.

“Do something.”

“Not yet,” Marquez says.

“He’s hurting him.”

“They’re exposed on the dock. We need the boat close enough that it can’t escape.”

The fishing boat moves alongside the dock.

A man aboard reaches for Elliot.

Then one of Simon’s men stops.

He presses a hand to an earpiece and turns toward the Coast Guard patrol boat in the distance.

Someone has warned him.

The man shouts.

The fishing boat reverses away from the dock.

The rifleman grabs Elliot and drags him backward.

Peter remains on the ground.

“Move!” Marquez orders.

Federal agents emerge from both ends of the waterfront.

The rifleman fires.

Gunshots crack across the water.

The patrol boat turns sharply toward the fishing vessel, its blue lights exploding across the darkness.

The man holding Elliot puts the barrel of a handgun against his head.

I stop breathing.

A shadow drops from the warehouse roof.

Ben.

He lands behind the gunman and drives him into the concrete.

The handgun slides across the dock.

Elliot falls.