His Hart's Command (Nothing Special 6)

He paid for a Diet Coke while he nuked his sandwich in the microwave. Several televisions lined the walls, but all of them were showing different news programs. He wasn’t in the mood to be reminded of all the bad going on in the world. He sat at one of the tables facing the entrance. Sometimes, he’d use the excuse of wanting a better vending selection from the upstairs break room and eat up there; but he’d really go to sneak a peek through the glass walls of the SWAT department.

There was no reason to venture up there and pretend tonight. The entire department was dark and empty, just as it’d been for the last two and half weeks. But he’s on his way home. Free smiled as he bit into the bland, about to expire in two days, sandwich. Not much could ruin his great mood. Only Tech knew how bad he had it for the huge captain. Gosh, every time Free thought about how Hart had stuck up for him at God and Day’s bachelor party against that creepy cop, Vasquez, it made his heart race. He’d even seen him home safely. Then Hart had gone out of his way to check on him during his first few weeks working for the department, to ensure he was settling in, and no one else had given him any more trouble. He was so caring and considerate with him. However, it was all so damn confusing—and extremely infuriating—because it was believed that Hart was straight.

Well, he was going to find out once and for all.

“Hey,” Syn said, distracting Free from his reflections.

“What’s going on, Sarge?” Free asked around a mouthful of bread.

“Nothing much. Ronowski and Michaels are in for their shift. It’s gonna be a long night, so I’m gonna head out. You can go. We’re not doing anything else tonight,” Syn said, leaning against the counter, drinking a bottle of water.

“The lieutenants gone?”

“Yeah. God was waiting on Hart, but his team’s not leaving St. George for a few more hours, so they won’t be arriving until morning.”

Damnit. Free really wanted to see Hart tonight. His cheerful mood deflated rapidly and his sandwich now tasted like Chef Boyardee spread on dry toast. Free crumpled the last few bites in the plastic wrapper and chucked it toward the trash can.

“Relax. He’ll be here in the morning.” Syn chuckled as he left the room.

Free covered his eyes, sinking farther in the hard plastic chair. He was never going to fool anyone.

Hart

Hart stood at the rear of the car and stared down at the petite woman whose safety he’d been responsible for the last sixteen days. She placed her trembling hand on his bicep and leaned closer to him. He could feel his team’s eyes on him as the woman got emotional right there in front of ten fully geared-up SWAT officers, a slew of St. George police and several FBI agents. She ignored them all and concentrated on him. Being surrounded by uniformed men had been her life for the last eight months while the state put on a defense to take down a violent gang. The last day of the trial had been yesterday. It was over. Maryanne reached up as high as she could and tried to drape her hands over his shoulders.

Hart could sympathize. Maryanne had been dealt the kind of hand in life that made a person question if there was a God. Her husband and only child had been victims of a gang-related drive-by last year that had also killed four other people. As the sole survivor of the attack, she’d cooperated with the FBI to give eyewitness testimony, in exchange for full protection and a new identity. For the past two weeks, it’d been Hart’s job to get her to and from the court building safely.

“I’ll never forget what you did for me last night.” She leaned her head against his chest, pressing against the equipment he was wearing. “You’re a very special man.”

“Thank you,” Hart said roughly.

The woman had been a broken shell when he’d first seen her in the safe house just outside of Scottdale. As the lengthy trial had worn on, there’d been two more attempts on her life, which only made her that much more determined to see justice served for her spouse and nine-year-old baby girl.

“No. I thank you, Ivan.” She peered up at him with watery green eyes.

She took a few deep breaths as she tried to stem the tears. He let her have as much time as she needed. They all did. No one rudely cleared their throat or interrupted her goodbye. She wasn’t just saying goodbye to the men who’d risked their lives for her every day, but also farewell to who she’d always been.

Maryanne reached into her pocket and pulled out the emergency alert beacon he’d given her last week to make her feel safer. It was designed like a necklace, only the Irish cross charm had a button on the back that could be pressed to alert their mobile command of her exact location. She placed it back into his palm. “You won’t know where I am anymore, will you?”