“Fix your face, dummy, and your clothes,” Fox hissed and just barely closed the closet when Hart’s office door rattled on the hinges from the three loud bangs, right before it was flung open.
“Hart!”
“Commander Lark. Chief.” Hart hurried and tucked in his shirt as the two older men filed into his office. “I just got out the washroom, what’s going on?” Man, he hoped he didn’t look as discombobulated as he felt. That was so fucking close, his hands were trembling.
“We have an emergency. Got a hostage situation at a men’s shelter around the block on McPherson. One person’s already been wounded. Your team still here?”
“Yes. Let command know we’re on it. We’ll get the details in the APC.” Hart said, getting back into work mode. He tightened his belt and hurried around his desk to his phone, jabbing his finger on Dinah’s direct line. As soon as she answered he wasted no time with pleasantries, “D, get everyone upstairs, now, we got a one thirty-six in progress.”
“This could get real, Hart. Threat level’s already red. So, I want you guys in full tack gear. We’ll be at headquarters listening. I know you and God’s team have been under a lot of heat, but I need your team to do what you do. Get there, breach and get any hostages out safely,” his commander said, then left with the chief.
Hart rushed toward his closet just as Fox was coming out. Hart was humiliated. His lieutenant gave him his classic sly grin and bumped his shoulder on his way past. “I told you that side door would come in handy. You owe me, friend.” Fox said, rushing out of the door, barking at the team to move faster.
When Hart went into his closet to get his gear, Free was leaning against the wall with his head down, his creamy cheeks flushed a dark red. Oh baby. Hart wished he could go to him and laugh about their close call but he had to move his ass. “Len.”
His smile was shaky and it was obvious he felt bad, but Hart wasn’t mad at him for trying to give them experiences they’d both missed out on their entire adult lives. “Len, baby. It’s okay. I gotta go, all right?” Hart threw his vest over his head and clamped the straps together. “I’ll be home as soon as I can, and then you can finish what you started.”
Free appeared more relieved, finally looking Hart in his eyes. He was just so damn sexy. No wonder he’d been about to have his dick out and balls hanging right there in the workplace. And, he couldn’t say it wouldn’t happen again. “You had me by the beard, baby. I was all yours, you know that.” Hart winked.
Free’s laugh was warm, and damned if he didn’t want to leave him. “Yeah. I’ll finish you off later,” his boyfriend promised. He gave Hart’s loaded uniform a good inspection. “You look badass, but be careful out there.”
“I will.” Hart yanked his helmet and safety googles off the shelf.
“Here.” Free opened the flap of a pocket compartment on his shirt sleeve. “Take the prototype.”
“In case I wanna end up like Van Gogh.” Hart teased.
Free laughed loudly, clamping his hand over his mouth, “You ass. What happened to it saving lives?”
“Hart! We’re moving!” Fox yelled.
“I gotta go. Let’s hope I won’t need it.” Hart pecked Free’s cheek and ran out of the closet.
“I’ll wait up.”
He heard Free softly throw those beautiful words at his back as his team jogged out of their department.
Hart
Hart held in his groan of irritation when the chaotic scene came into view. It’d taken them eight minutes to arrive, having been debriefed by command on their way in. The beat officers had already sectioned off the home and surrounding areas. A news crew was setting up just outside the caution tape in hopes of getting live footage. He’d have to keep an eye on that.
The boarding house was actually a converted office building purchased by a non-profit organization that assisted homeless and disabled men with residence placement and jobs. It was supported by local business, charities and fundraisers, but it appeared to be struggling. The two-story structure was rundown and shabby. Its cinderblock exterior had been painted a depressing slate blue at some point, which was long past needing a paint job. He was sure it wasn’t all it required, with its cracked windows and corroding bricks. Hart would’ve bet most of the house wasn’t up to code. The negotiator on scene had already cut the power and water off, making the building look haunted.
Several officers had suspects lined up on the opposite side of the street, face down on the grass, frisking them.
Dinah rolled their APC in front of the multitude of unmarked cars and cruisers.
His team got the green light to breach before they’d even come to a complete stop. The negotiator hadn’t been able to get through for the last twelve minutes and couldn’t confirm if the director and his wife were still alive. Multiple shots had been fired as SWAT assumed command. The first thing Hart did was to make sure his entire team was in position and his snipers were on perch before they unloaded onto the lawn.