His Hart's Command (Nothing Special 6)

Smoke billowed up the stairs, and glass shattered below them as the air reached a sweltering temperature.

Hart kept his hands visible and commanded his team, “Get them out of here. Now,” he growled. “Hurry.”

Fox hesitated while their shield-bearer rushed the hostages toward the stairs, careful to cover them the entire time. Fox was still facing him, his silver eye behind his scope, his rifle pressed so tight against him it looked painful. He could see his partner’s indecision, but Hart had ordered him and he had no choice. Fox slowly retreated backwards, his steps measured as if he was trying to devise a two-second emergency plan in his head. The woman tripped and fell, both men trying to help her up.

“GO!” Hart barked. I’ll get away from this bastard, just go. GO! He tried his best to convey his intentions with his eyes.

Fox finally moved his ass and got the woman to her feet while his other officer helped the husband. They disappeared around the corner and downstairs.

“Clear!” he heard Fox yell.

They’re safe.

Now he had to get away.

Hart

To Hart’s surprise, the gunman shoved him by the shoulder, back into the tiny bedroom. There was only one window in there and his pulse skyrocketed when he saw flames licking up the side of the building. Shit!

Hart could hear the mayhem outside over the whoosh of the water shooting into some of the upstairs windows. The swarm of red, blue and white lights illuminated the dark bedroom, as well as the spotlight from the chopper hovering above them. He had no way of communicating with his team to tell them to get that light out of there so he could make his move.

“Hey. We need to get out of here. And I can get you that food and stuff I promised,” Hart said, his hands still raised. “A nice warm bed must sound nice.”

“No. Noooo,” The man groaned, pulling at his matted hair. He’d started to sweat profusely; his eyes so dilated Hart wasn’t sure he could see straight. “No more moving. Just bring it here.”

“We can’t stay here. We’ll burn to death,” Hart gritted out. The man looked like he was two seconds from losing it. Shit, shit, shit.

“Tell them to come and get us…”

“How?!” Hart bellowed.

“Call them! Give me your phone.” The gunman held his hand out.

“No! We gotta go!”

“NOW!”

His captor fired a shot that pinged way to close to Hart’s head and lodged into the wall behind him. The guy startled as if he’d done it accidentally. Fuck me! Hart was beginning to think this was the worst idea he’d ever had. He hurriedly yanked his phone out of his pocket and slapped it onto the perp’s sweaty palm.

“I’ll make it happen!” The guy yelled, his eyes watering from the smoke enveloping the tiny room. Hart brought his forearm over his nose and mouth, squinting as the acrid smoke burned his retinas.

His kidnapper paced back and forth with his phone, acting as if he was no longer aware of his surroundings. Like he didn’t know the goddamn building was burning down. Hart was gonna have to piss this guy off and get him to rush him so he could disarm him.

“No. I lied. You’re going to jail,” Hart said nastily.

The gunman glared at him, his hand shaking violently. Hart prayed if he accidentally fired again it’d be at his vest. That’d be better than burning alive. “You better make it happen, copper.”

“Or what?! We can both burn to death!” Hart yelled.

“I don’t care what—”

A violent explosion shook another section of the house, knocking his captor off his feet. Hart lunged. He threw all of his two-hundred sixty pounds on the smaller man, knocking the wind out of him. Hart unleashed a rapid series of elbows and knees until the man folded into a ball and cried for him to stop.

He got to his feet and kicked the gunman’s pistol as hard as could across the hall and into the other room. The meth head was down, unmoving, passed out or just plain given up, either way, Hart couldn’t stop to find out. He stuck his head out of the door, a jolt of fear hitting him in the chest at the overwhelming amount of smoke. So much that he still couldn’t see even with the chopper’s lights flooding inside.

The heat was so close now that the paint on the walls on either side of him had started to bubble and blister. He tried to see to the end of the hall, but all he could make out was bright orange and he knew the stairs were no longer an option. Water from the firehose rained down on his bare head as dread tried to paralyze him. He was trapped. And no way to communica—”

Oh shit.

Len.

Free

“Free, try to calm down. I’m telling you. He’ll get away,” God tried to console him for the hundredth time. But Free could hear the doubt in his boss’s voice. God was terrified for his best friend. They were all back in the office watching the live news feed of the burning building as a chaotic scene unfolded before their eyes.