Night Watch

NIGHT WATCH A Monk and Lee Adventure BY TONY REED Titles by Tony Reed The Lincoln Monk Adventures Neptune Island Jungle Games Hell Valley The Monk and Lee Adventures MacLean’s Kingdom Desert Gold Sonoran Fury Storm Front Night Watch Metal, Sand, and Blood (Books 1-3 Omnibus) Short Stories “Mann's Best Friend” Cover design by Damonza Edited by Darby O’Shaughnessy For information, please contact [email protected] Copyright © 2023 by TONY REED All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. NIGHT WATCH Titles by Tony Reed CHAPTER 1 CHAPTER 2 CHAPTER 3 CHAPTER 4 CHAPTER 5 CHAPTER 6 CHAPTER 7 CHAPTER 8 CHAPTER 9 CHAPTER 10 CHAPTER 11 CHAPTER 12 CHAPTER 13 CHAPTER 14 CHAPTER 15 CHAPTER 16 CHAPTER 17 CHAPTER 18 CHAPTER 19 CHAPTER 20 CHAPTER 21 CHAPTER 22 CHAPTER 23 CHAPTER 24 CHAPTER 25 CHAPTER 26 CHAPTER 27 CHAPTER 29 To leave a review Titles by Tony Reed A series of puzzling challenges and a business merger turn deadly in this latest Monk and Lee Adventure by Tony Reed, bestselling author of Neptune Island. When an ex-employer recommends Lincoln and Mich for a job at a rival company, they have no reason to suspect that their prospective employer, Conrad Stone, has a unique way of hiring staff. In a deserted warehouse on the outskirts of Seattle, with a midnight deadline looming, Lincoln and Mich must combine all their skills to pass Stone’s hiring hurdles by completing in a two hour series of mental and physical tests. As they race from challenge to challenge, an unseen game is at play—a merger where a billion-dollar empire is at stake and ambitions turn lethal. While a raging storm consumes Seattle, the fate of a business empire is decided—not by faceless executives in the boardroom, but by Lincoln Monk and Mich Lee, two ex-cops with a never-give-up attitude—in Night Watch. CHAPTER 1 Seattle, Washington Mich shivered in the downpour and pulled his black biker jacket closer. “Monk, explain to me again why we‘re waiting in a bloody park in the middle of the bloody night in the bloody pouring rain?” “All I know is”—Lincoln flipped his hoodie over his cap—“Stone’s hottie assistant gave me this phone and told me not to bring any other communication devices.” He held out the iPhone so together they could see the screen. “She texted me to be at this location at 9:45 p.m. and await further instructions.” “So why did we get here at nine?” Lincoln poked his chin in the direction of the warehouse across the rise. “Reconnaissance.” The phone in Lincoln’s hand came to life. “I didn’t peg her for a Roy Orbison fan. Cool.” “‘Working for the Man’—fitting.” Mich wiped the rain from his face and leaned closer to study the screen just as the call dropped. “Latest model, too. I suppose we have to give it back?” Lincoln maneuvered the phone until a reception bar appeared. “He’ll call back.” The maple leaf canopy did little to alleviate the torrential rain hammering them. Between Mich’s soaked hoodie, jeans, and hiking boots, and his complaint that rivulets of water were running inside his jacket collar and down his spine, Lincoln could have sworn he heard their bones rattle. To make the raw conditions even more miserable, Seattle’s winter chill stung their exposed hands and faces. He pulled his black Red Sox cap lower and focused his attention on the scene before them. Streetlights, dimmed by sheets of rain rolling across the asphalt, struggled to pierce the deluge. Apart from the odd set of headlights in the distance, the roads that snaked around the lifeless industrial park were void of traffic. A hundred yards away, surrounded by a chain-link fence topped with barbed wire, Stone's foreboding warehouse towered into the night like some dark windowless castle defending an ancient secret. The safety panels from a helipad protruded over the edge of the rooftop. One level below, a window-washer platform clung to the building’s façade. An overweight guard in an all-weather poncho patrolled the perimeter. He scanned the grounds for anything out of place—the second time that hour—before returning to the protection of the guardhouse at the northern end. “T-t-tell me again, Monk, how we g-get ourselves into these situations.” Lincoln considered his answer. “Skill,” he said with an enthusiastic grin. “This p-place looks creepy as hell. S-seriously. What the hell are we d-doing out here on a n-night like this?” Mich rubbed his hands briskly. “Three reasons,” Lincoln said, holding up an index finger. “One. We’re broke. Besides the fifty greenbacks in my pocket, all we have in the world right now are the clothes on our backs and that six-pack of Corona back at the Y.” His middle finger joined his index to make his next point. “Two—and this isn’t a crappy Nixon impersonation—guess what? We’re broke. Now, I could give you multiple choice for the third reason, but you can make an educated guess.” “Yeah, yeah.” Mich ignored his old friend as old friends do. “It’s so damned cold out here, I think my balls may have retracted—I kid you not!" The sweet sound of Roy’s angelic voice returned with the final verse of “Working for the Man.” “Are you ready?” “Do you want the truth?” “Actually, I prefer a lie.” Lincoln smiled. “Helps keep me on my toes. So, what do you say?” Mich shrugged. “Let’s get this over with.” “It’ll be fine.” Lincoln gave him a reassuring slap on the back and swiped the screen. Conrad Stone, in a white, open-collared shirt and pinstriped Armani suit, greeted them with a curt nod. His inchoate middle-aged paunch