His Hart's Command (Nothing Special 6)

He needs to be stopped. God would have this crook arrested immediately, but he’d need proof. Before Free could think of it being a bad idea, he lifted his tablet and took a good shot of the men across the spacious lobby. Tech’s eyes widened impossibly as he shot his hand out and slammed Free’s tablet down in his lap right as he captured another shot of the judge.

“Don’t, Free,” Tech panicked.

Two men in black suits scowled in their direction. None of them wore any visible identification, so it wasn’t obvious they were police. God’s detectives stayed undercover, so they appeared more like five men—well, two nerds and three roughnecks—having a meal. And, had decided to just photograph them out of the blue for no apparent reason.

“This is not going to be good,” Ruxs grumbled. “You’ve got to get Free the hell out of here. Go out the back, we’ll go out the front. They’ll follow us. Bring the truck to the end of the street and get us. I don’t think they’d do anything on—”

“Move!” Tech yelled at the same time three suits moved in on them from the left. Cornelia had men posted all over. Their steps were quick and purposeful, one man with his hand already inside his waistband.

Free stumbled as Tech yanked him out of his chair and had him running back inside the restaurant toward the kitchen before he could get scared. He tried not to glance back at the ruckus of tables being knocked over, glass breaking and heavy boots running in the other direction.

“Officers need assistance…Downtown Westin hotel…request immediate backup.”

Free caught pieces of Tech’s 911 call as he relayed their situation and location into his cell as he ran. How he was multitasking like that, Free had no clue. He, on the other hand, felt like he had drying cement in his loafers.

“Faster Lenny. Come on,” Tech said as he weaved them past cooking stations and confused staff. “It’s gonna be fine. Don’t worry.” Tech busted out of the emergency exit with the force of a semi, dragging Free behind him.

Free just knew he was going to trip and fall on his face any minute. His heart beat so fast he thought he’d hyperventilate. He wanted to turn his head to see if they were being followed, but he didn’t want to go down face first. If his own scary experiences had taught him anything, it was not to look back. Two gunshots rang out into the air and Free lost his connection with Tech’s palm, dropping to the ground, slamming his hands over his ears. His first thought was for his friends. Oh god! Had they been shot? Shot in the back while running?

“Free, come on! It’s okay. We’re okay,” Tech hollered, scooping him up by his underarms and getting him into the rear seat of the SUV. Free crouched on the back floorboard as Tech burned rubber down the narrow road. Free heard more shots fired and fought not to react wildly and distract Tech—who was surprisingly calm as he drove his truck with one hand and used his radio with the other.

“Five seconds, guys.”

“Change of plans.” Steele’s dark voice reached them through the speakers. He sounded calm, but he panted as if he was still running. “Those bastards are shooting at us in broad daylight. Ruxs and Green split down Peachtree, I’m on Ellis. Trying to lead them away from people. I think I lost my guy.”

Tech came to a stop at the end of the block, waiting for the clear. Free glanced up, relieved that there was relatively no foot traffic on the street and— “Ahh!” His body was jerked backwards against the seat then forward. Metal and glass shattered all around him.

“Fuck!” Tech yelled, then hit the gas pedal.

“They’re on my ass, Ruxs,” Tech said, both hands gripping the wheel.

This would’ve been a good time for Free to pull up a map and help his friend. Be his navigator, since his current partner was on the run and couldn’t assist him. But all Free could do was hang onto his ass, try not to piss himself and trust that his best friend would get him out of this shitstorm like he did everything else in his life. Oh my god. Someone help us, please!

The SUV was jostled again and Free’s eyes widened as Tech lowered his window a fraction and pulled an intimidating black handgun from his holster. Their pursuer immediately fell back, angrily hitting the driver-side rear tire. Free bit his tongue hard, grimacing at the pain and taste of blood. Tech made another sharp turn.

A gritty, commanding voice came over the radio and Free recognized it immediately. “Tech. We’re almost there. ETA three minutes. Can you loop ‘em back around towards us?”

Oh my god! It’s Fox! This had to be big. SWAT was coming. Free’s stomach dropped. That meant Hart was heading his way while Free was on a high speed chase with gunshots whizzing around him. He could only imagine how Hart was coming—full speed.