Nothing Special V (Nothing Special 5)

He ran his hands across his forehead, wiping the sweat that’d accumulated there. Tech closed his eyes and did his breathing exercises to calm himself. Ro’s screams for his team were still ringing in his ears. All of their voices were in his head. He could recognize each one of them without them having to identify themselves. He kept his earpiece in at all times, even when he slept or showered, never removed it. It was as much a part of him as his right arm. The men only put theirs in if needed. He was the only one that could hear them, so he was the one who had to communicate their needs. Sure, he could put the live feed on the radio in the office or their cars, but it would be absolute chaos if all of them were able to talk through their devices at once. He’d designed the system himself and so far, it’d been foolproof. His job wasn’t always this stressful; it wasn’t always a massive shootout with very little assistance. God was adamant about securing complete intel and a solid plan before moving in. Safety always his primary concern. But on this one, Artist really fucked them over by pulling a rope-a-dope. And Tech wasn’t the least bit sorry that asshole was dead now.

“Tech, are you back there?”

He sat up higher at the sound of his sergeant’s raspy voice and made himself look like he was busy tinkering with some of his gadgets instead of getting his shit together.

“Shawn?”

“Yeah, I’m back here, Syn.” Tech straightened his posture, furrowing his brow like he was reading something on the monitor.

He heard the man’s light footsteps getting closer. He should’ve known someone would come looking for him when they didn’t see him at his enormous desk full of monitors and contraptions. Tech looked around at the huge room that held the team’s specialty weapons, firearms, Michaels’ sniper rifles, their armor, surveillance equipment, and a ton of other stuff, all managed by him. His system was flawless and the men were constantly praising him for his ingenuity.

“You alright in here, buddy?” Syn asked, his voice always a comfort.

“Yeah. I’m good,” Tech replied, picking up his 15-inch tablet, the weight of it surprisingly comforting as well – like God’s Desert Eagles were against his side.

“You did great tonight. You stayed cool under the pressure and you dispatched assistance quickly. You saved our lives.” Syn looked him in the eyes, making Tech shy away from that penetrating glare.

“No. You guys save yourselves. I’m just behind the desk, safe in the office, like always.” Tech bit his bottom lip. He knew his job was important, he truly did. But the team were the ones that did the really hard stuff. The cut above Syn’s eye proving it. Tech winced at the dark red cut. “Let me see that. It might need stitches.”

“Tech.”

“I’ll call Vasquez to come take a look,” Tech kept going. Vasquez was a paramedic before he became a police officer. He worked the third shift and didn’t mind offering his assistance whenever needed. Tech raised his tablet up, about to shoot Vasquez a message. His fear of almost losing Syn tonight still heavy on his heart.

A rough hand clasped over his before he could tap on the screen. Syn gently removed it from his hands and set it down on one of the wide shelves in the room. Next thing he knew, Syn pulled him into his hard chest, securing him tightly. It only took him a few seconds to raise his own arms up and clasp them around Syn’s back. His body was all rippling, hard muscles that he could feel under the man’s thin APD t-shirt. He smelled clean, manly, and Syn felt safe, no longer in danger. Tech buried his face in Syn’s neck and sighed his relief against him. It was amazing; Syn always knew exactly what everyone needed.

“You’re an integral member of this team, and you know this by now, so stop fishing.” Syn smirked in that sexy way of his.

Tech pushed his black-framed glasses up a little higher, a slight smile curving his lips. The guys did always include him. He never said he felt like an outcast, just not as important. They could always find another technology specialist.

“Come on. God and Day are back in the office.”

Tech finished checking in Ruxs’ submachine guns and walked back out of the equipment room, closing the door – which was only accessible by a code – behind him. He walked slowly back to his work station, his eyes locked on Day and Green as they held each other in a tight embrace. Tech could only imagine what it was like to save another man’s life, unfortunately, he’d never know.

“Alright everyone, listen up,” God said, his voice rough and commanding. His sharp green eyes scanned the room, making sure he made contact with each and every one of them. When he finally began to speak, it was in that frightening low timbre that always made goosebumps pop up on Tech’s arms. “Tonight was one of the most difficult fights we’ve faced in a very long time. But we persevered, like always. Because we are the goddamn best. A message went out tonight fellas, to those motherfuckers we hunt every day. We are not to be fucked with. I don’t care who comes up next because to be the baddest you gotta be capable of beating the baddest. No matter who they send, no matter how many they send… they will go down, just like those bastards did tonight. I’m damn lucky to have each one of you. We were a unit, moving as one. Even apart, we are deadly, but when combined – we are fuckin’ unstoppable, and that’s what those thugs saw tonight. We’re going to get some negative feedback in the press – but we’ll ignore that shit like we always do because they know damn well they’ll have peace of mind knowing that we control these motherfuckin’ streets! They’ll sleep better knowing that we rule the night. We rid Atlanta of a deadly poison by taking down Artist, and they know it. So ignore it all. They stick a camera in your face, shove it down their throat. It’s us risking our lives out here to keep them safe.” God turned and looked at Day, his voice wavering for only a second before he continued strong, “Go home, rest up this weekend. Make love to your man. I’ll see you back in here on Monday to do what we fuckin’ do.”