“I know you’re off duty. God wants to know, are you armed?”
Mason grimaced. “Of course I am, but I’m not alone.”
“He has a civilian with him? Tell him to stand down. That’s an order,” he heard God bark in the background, his voice reaching out and chilling him even through the phone. “Free, get my enforcers over there.”
“No civilians,” Mason interjected. “I have a dog with me.”
“I have him,” Free said, distracted. “Zooming in on the alley.”
Mason listened to Free rattle off coordinates of his exact location, fast and efficient with his technology. He could do things no other IT personnel in the precinct could and provided immediate resources that made God and his team damn near unstoppable on the streets.
The voices were picking up as if the deal was going south. The further Mason moved down the fence, the better he could hear and see. He squatted lower and peeked through a missing board, relaying as many details back to Free as he could. “Four Caucasian males, mid to late twenties, dark clothing—”
“Mason, I am looking right at them on my screen. Do not engage. Ruxs, Green, and Tech are on the way. God has already sent patrols in your direction. Wait for backup,” Free said. “I’m watching you too. Stop bloody moving before they hear you, and stand down.”
Mason suppressed his groan. He had to remember who he was dealing with. Free was able to tap into satellites and move the task force team in real time. “I’m well hidden. They can’t—” Mason’s phone beeped that his cell phone was at one percent. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered.
“What?” Free said urgently.
“My phone’s dying.” Mason glanced at his dim screen, knowing he only had a couple minutes.
The men’s voices got loud enough to make Pixie growl. Mason crouched and wrapped one arm around Pixie’s back. “Shhh. It’s okay, Pix, it’s okay. Shhh.”
“Mason,” Free said carefully. “Get up slowly… quietly… and start to move down that fence. The backyard opens up. Cut through the house’s yard on the other side—”
“Is someone over there?”
Mason heard one of the men yell, his steps getting closer to the fence. Mason pulled Pixie’s leash, but she started to bark aggressively when someone kicked the fence.
“Fuck.”
“Go,” Free hissed.
Mason took off running with a death grip on Pixie’s leash.
“Hey!” he heard someone yell and saw a man heft himself on the fence to peer over the side.
Pixie barked like crazy, forcing Mason to abandon his hiding place. He darted toward the messy lawn as the sharp bursts of gunshots almost made him stumble, but he managed to stay on his feet. He could hear Free calling his name, and he struggled to keep the receiver close enough to his ear to listen as he pumped his legs harder. Mason’s breaths came in sharp gusts as he managed to ask, “Are they… following… me?”
“Yes. Three.” Free sounded entirely too calm for what was happening. Couldn’t his friend see he was being shot at? Running for his life! How the hell did the enforcers do this shit on a regular basis?
“Hey, asshole!” A bullet whizzed by his head and struck a shed just as he ducked around it.
“Free, help me out here,” Mason said, hoping he didn’t sound as panicked as he was. These guys were shooting to kill him.
“Cut between… next house… on Cherokee… units headed… way.”
He caught most of what Free was saying, but his arms were working as hard as his legs. Pixie was keeping stride with him with no problem, but the little whines she made told him she was just as terrified. His phone beeped again, and he diverted his eyes a second—a big mistake—and slammed into a gas grill on the side of someone’s house, causing a loud ruckus. He hit the cold ground with hip-cracking force and rolled a few feet, losing his hold on Pixie’s leash. He didn’t have time to register the pain as Pixie cried and sniffed at his face. Determined footsteps were coming fast, but thankfully he heard the sound of police sirens closing in. Unfortunately, it didn’t mean he was safe.
“Mason!”
Mason pulled his sidearm, then scrambled along the ground to secure Pixie’s leash and his phone. “Free, I—” His screen went black before he could finish telling his friend he was all right. He didn’t know if the sound of the good guys had scared off his bad guys, but he didn’t risk it. Mason took off at a sprint, weapon in one hand and Pixie’s leash in the other. He didn’t stop running until he’d cleared Cherokee Avenue and was back on his street. He slowed down when he turned on his block but continued to check behind him every few seconds. His hands were shaking, and Pixie’s tail was slightly tucked between her hind legs as she kept stealing glances his way.