Ex Meridian (Nothing Special 7)

“Tech, Steele follow him, and don’t lose him, Ruxs and Green, you cover the side entrance,” God ordered into his earpiece quickly, all while he and Day were jogging across the desolate street towards their suspect’s five-story apartment building.

They were jumping the low fence surrounding the exterior when God saw the dark figure slip through the front door with the stealth of an assassin. He informed his team. “We got visual of him in the front. Over.”

“He can’t be in the front. He just went through the back door,” Steele argued, the sound of his measured breaths seeping into their ears. God didn’t question the ex-Recon Marine who was another one of his street enforcers.

“Heads up. We have two unidentified suspects entering the front and back entrances. Stay alert,” God said as silently as he could, pressing his broad back against Day’s so they could watch each other’s sixes while they cleared the courtyard.

“We’re inside the back. All clear. Taking the stairs to the fourth floor. Over.” Steele was the first to check in.

“Clearing the south end, headed your way God.” Green was next as he and his partner Ruxs covered the other exit.

Before God could answer his team, they heard three loud pops and men yelling. God took off with Day right on his heels.

This shit is getting crazy, Day thought as he and God raced towards the sound of danger. It was what they did. But if someone had just knocked off two of the few leads in their case right under their noses, Day was going to flip his shit. Right after his husband flipped his shit for the tenth time this week. It was starting to feel as if they’d lost control on the streets. Their task force was still well known and feared by drug kingpins up and down the East Coast, their reputation preceding them. But, of late, they’d taken a few too many losses for their overachieving liking.

“Talk to me,” God rumbled into their comms system.

“We lost him,” Steele came back.

“Fuck the man in black. Just get to our witnesses. Now!” Day barked, doubling his speed and taking the stairs three at a time.

“Copy,” Steele huffed.

God was ahead of him now and Day kept his eyes trained over their shoulders. He heard heavy boots hitting the concrete stairs, closing in fast behind them and knew it was his enforcers by their synchronized steps. Ruxs and Green moved the same as him and God—as one.

Commotion exploded on the third floor, and Day saw God pull one of his gold and chrome Desert Eagle handguns from his holster, compelling him to pull his Glock. As they burst through the stairwell door, God aimed left and Day skidded up close to his side, aiming his piece to the right. He swung around at the sound of a loud thud as a man’s body hit the wall several feet away from them, a pained wail escaping him before he crumpled to the floor. God had only taken a couple of steps when another man came flying from the intersecting hall, slamming into the guy on the ground. He shifted his jaw with his hand as if the punch that floored him had dislocated it.

Holy shit.

“Get up,” The younger man groaned from the floor.

“Shit. It’s Jason.” God gritted out, recognizing their witnesses as he raised his weapon.

The oldest Stewart brother noticed them, his furious brown eyes wide as he hunched over in agony.

Jason pushed at the smaller one, his brother. “I can’t. Just run, Marcus.” Jason’s gaze didn’t linger on them long, instead he looked more afraid of what was coming towards him from straight ahead.

Day frowned, not knowing what the hell was happening. He felt Green and Ruxs come through the door and take a defensive position behind them.

“Steele, Tech, we’re on the third with a situation,” Day said sharply into their earpieces.

“Copy,” Steele answered. “We have a visual on the man in black.”

The hairs on the back of Day’s neck rose and he had that familiar feeling that something crazy was about to happen. None of them could see down the intersecting hallway, making them inch cautiously along the wall with their weapons raised. There was only one other way out. Jason’s little brother leapt to his feet and ran in the opposite direction.

“No! Watch out for Kellam!” Jason tried to warn his brother but he was too late.

Three red and black throwing blades hit the wall in rapid succession, embedding themselves only inches from Marcus’s temple the second his foot rounded the corner.

“Fuck!” Marcus yelled, falling onto his ass, his shocked gaze going to the wicked-looking blades that had just missed him. He began to crab-walk away from what was advancing towards him.

“Atlanta PD!” God barked loud enough for the people in every apartment on that floor and above them to hear. Whoever the hell had come for their witnesses needed to know who the fuck they were. “Come around that corner slow with your hands up!”