Nothing Special V (Nothing Special 5)

“Sounds like the guy with the accent was pretty good, too,” Pres said.

“No kidding. He’ll still have to be able to work well with us. We all have our areas of expertise. That’s why we get the results we do. We each bring what’s necessary to the table. I don’t know the guy Tech found, but yeah, he sounds smart. I’m just hoping his background is clean, but I don’t think Tech would bring him on if he wasn’t hirable,” Syn commented.

“Will your captain not approve of you working this for me? Is that a possibility?” Pres was rubbing at the tension in his neck until Blair got up and took over the massage.

“No. Not likely. If we can keep it contained, he’ll let us do what we need to do. With your status, we’ll need to move quickly, though. Our captain won’t want paparazzi on us. It’s dangerous and, most of all, he won’t want anyone with a camera following our Enforcers. It’s really not a good idea for the media to catch anything they do on tape,” Day said seriously.

He heard the door open and turned to look towards it, expecting to see God, but it was Hart and his lieutenant. They were in full-on SWAT gear. Either they were getting ready to go on a bust or were just coming back from one. The man knew how to fill out that uniform. His head was shaved bald, but he had a well-groomed full beard with at least five to six inches of bushy lengthy under his chin. It looked hot on him. He looked scary and dangerous, especially geared up in all black. If Day were just walking down the sidewalk, he’d move out of the guy’s way. But if you knew Hart, you’d know he was all teddy bear… as long as you stayed on the right side of the law.

“You guys aren’t superstars enough; you had to have Prescott Vaughan cooling his heels in here?” Hart’s laugh was husky like he smoked too much, but Day knew the man didn’t put anything toxic in his system.

Day stood up and introduced the huge SWAT captain properly. “Pres, this is Ivan Hart. Captain of the SWAT team in this precinct. Hart, this is my longtime friend, Prescott and his partners, Blair McKenzie and Dr. Ric Edwards.”

“It’s a real honor. I heard you guys were here. You know how fast news travels around this place. Got all the girls running around applying lipstick and shit.” Hart laughed again, slapping Day so hard on his back he practically fell against the table.

Day looked out into the bullpen, noticing it was buzzing with way more activity than usual; every few seconds heads would turn to look his way. Day shook his head. “Didn’t these girls get the memo?” Day looked at Pres.

“I didn’t come for an autograph, my lieutenant did, though. And some of them out there want to know if Mr. Vaughan would come out there and take a few pictures,” Hart asked.

“How’d you let them talk you into asking that?” Syn smiled up at Hart.

“You know I’ll do anything if I’m asked nicely enough.” Hart shrugged. “Which is another reason I’m here. I wanted to tell God I’m moving his witnesses today.”

Syn frowned. “I thought it was tomorrow morning.”

Hart gave Syn his patented captain’s glare. “I know. I changed it. No one knows they’re moving now, except my team and you. I’ll notify the DA of the change when I get there, but he won’t even know the new location.”

“That’s why I trust you, brother,” God said gruffly, coming through the door with a slim file in his hand. God clamped his hand around Hart’s huge one and pulled him in for a shoulder bump. “Thanks for the transport, Hart. I appreciate it. I wouldn’t entrust this responsibility to anyone else.”

“Yeah, yeah. Kiss my ass when we don’t have an audience, Godfrey.” Hart chuckled with a crooked smile.

Pres stood up. “I’m going to go take a couple pictures, Leo.”

“That might not be a good idea. Word could get out that you have police assistance,” Syn noted.

“Everyone knows I have a best friend in the Atlanta PD and so does you know who, if he’s behind this. This is normal activity for me. Anytime I’m in Atlanta or close to it, I stop in and see Leo. It’ll look like I’m going about my regular routine.” Pres took Blair’s hand and walked out of the office. Ric stood there watching them go, a look of uneasiness still masking him.

“You don’t want to go with them?” Day asked.

“No.” Ric grimaced and sat back down. “I don’t do the pictures and fan thing. That’s all Pres and Blair. They were made for the camera.”

“What’s going on? Why does he want to look like he’s not doing anything differently?” Hart questioned.