by A. E. Via
Still ignoring that deep voice, Michaels rolled his eyes and went about getting dressed. The guy was a cocky prick… not his type either. He was actually starting to wonder what his type was. It seemed that any guy that crossed his path, or opened his mouth to speak wasn’t his type. Shit. At this rate I’ll be alone for the rest of my damn life.
He was just about dressed when he felt an incredible warmth behind him. “You got a lot of skills, detective. I usually don’t have to work that hard, and I definitely don’t get to round eight.”
Michaels didn’t bother turning around. He continued to shove his personals back in his bag. “Am I supposed to be flattered?”
“Actually, yeah.”
“We’re you trained by Frazier himself or something?” Michaels slammed his locker and turned around to face the warmth. The guy was stunningly handsome. His green eyes were beautiful against his tanned skin. Although Michaels could tell it was an artificial tan and he wondered if the guy was all about his looks and bragging. Superficial and shallow. Crowding in closer to him Michaels got a strong whiff of the man’s cologne as he was backed into the locker.
“Nope. Trained well though. It was a compliment, man.”
“Mmhmm. What’s your name?” Michaels went for nonchalant.
“Jake. Jake Anderson.” He said looking up and down the empty row of lockers before turning back to face him.
“Well, it was nice sparing with you, Jake. But I gotta’ get going.”
Jake didn’t move, instead inching in closer. “You gotta’ go right now? I was gonna grab a drink thought maybe you could use one too.”
“Naw. I’m good.”
“Is that a no? You’re saying no?” Jake said, looking confused.
Michaels wanted to laugh. He guessed Jake didn’t get turned down too often with his overly muscular body and his immaculately groomed appearance. He just wasn’t Michaels’ type. Of course. But Michaels wasn’t an ass so he didn’t laugh at Jake instead he brushed the back of his hand down his arm and whispered, “I really got to get to work. Crime doesn’t take a day off.” He flashed his own smirk. “Maybe I’ll take you up on that offer some other time, hmm.” Seeming to appease Jake’s obviously sensitive ego, Michaels wedged by him and left the locker room.
Sitting in his jeep, his hair still damp from the shower, the coolness of fall making him reconsider leaving his top off, he contemplated why he’d lied to Jake. The guy wasn’t proposing to him. Well… actually he was proposing. Proposing an evening of more vigorous sweating and exercise. The best damn exercise. Maybe after seeing what God and Day had, Ruxs and Green, Syn and Furi, shit even young Curtis was in a relationship. If a young man like him could keep a three point eight GPA and still hold on to a man that will be the number five draft pick in the NFL this year than surely he could manage to find someone.
On his way to his favorite sports bar the Jaws suspense theme blasted from his cell phone. It was God. Fuck. Activating his blue tooth he answered on the second ring. “Michaels.”
“Need you to get over to Mechanicsville. Marrietty said there was some activity at the factory. If it looks safe, peek around in there, if not just sit on it for a while.”
“Got it.”
“Markson and Rivers will come relieve you at six… you still got that thing?” God’s deep, commanding voice had him considering the right answer.
“Uh. Yeah, but I can pass.”
“Markson and Rivers will relieve you at six.”
The click was the end of that conversation. A peek at his dashboard shown it was only one. Goddamnit. “Looks like drive thru it is.” He mumbled. He’d really been looking forward to some wings, beer and about fifteen shots of whisky before he had to go and schmooze with his father’s stuck-up poker-police club.
Sitting across the street from the condemned factory on Glenn Street, Michaels tossed the wrapper to his last chicken tortilla wrap in his gym bag and slurped down the rest of his water. He’d been sitting for an hour and hadn’t seen a soul. Not even a car drive into the parking lot and turn around. The many windows to the warehouse were filthy and covered in months’ worth of grime but it wasn’t so obscured that he wouldn’t be able to see movement inside. What the fuck was Marrietty talkin’ about? What activity? He figured he’d wait a few hours and then take a closer look inside. It was already overcast, so the lack of light would help. Tilting his head back against the head rest he sighed at his situation. As if feeling his mood his cell phone notified him of a text message.
‘How’s it going???’
Great. Day.
‘Nothing yet. Alls quiet’
‘No. I mean did you get any ass yet??’
Michaels cursed at all the winking emojis behind the question marks. Damn he hated that Day knew this about him. He’s the last person you wanted in your head.
‘Fuck off’
‘Sorry already taken. No jacking off while on the job….ttyl’
“Ugh. Bastard.” Like he couldn’t get laid. If he wasn’t so picky he’d be balls deep in a hot, artificially tanned, overly muscular ass right now. But that was his choice. Shaking his head not wanting to think about this anymore, he pocketed his cell, released the safety on his 9mm, tucked it in his back, and got out of his jeep. He walked down the sidewalk went in a couple shops and circled back around the other side of the street. He had a partial view of the back of the gutted out building and tried to look as thoroughly as he could without being obvious. I don’t see a damn thing.
It was still too early to go inside so he went back to his car. The hours trickled by at a snail’s pace before finally Markson and Rivers pulled up in their all black Dodge Charger. They didn’t come over and acknowledge him and after a few minutes they both got out and began walking up the street. They looked like complete opposites but complimented the hell out of each other. Markson was their weapons specialist, wasn’t even six feet but he was thick and packed a lot of muscle, and could handle any weapon from a 22 handgun to a rocket launcher, strong as an ox. Dressed in all denim except for his buttoned-up white collar shirt. Rivers was at least 6’5, had played basketball for Georgetown but injured his knee his senior and lost his chance at the NBA. After working for the DEA for eleven years he was now God’s strategist’s specialist recruited personally by him. A mastermind if he’d ever met one.
Michaels waited for any type of signal that they wanted his assistance, when they were about to disappear out of sight Rivers reached in his back pocket and pulled out his pack of cigarette, leaning against the wall of a closed hardware store he propped one foot up and causally leaned against it to smoke.
Great. Everything’s cool.
Chapter Five
Michaels pulled up to the all brick colonial style home. He saw several cars in the curved driveway and sighed a frustrated breath. He really was not in the mood for this tonight. He wasn’t in a complete rut because he had the greatest job in the world but there was a huge void in his life right now and being stuck in his father’s house with these pompous, brass-kissing bastards wasn’t the best thing for him.
He looked down at his khaki shorts and open shirt over a gray wife beater and wished he’d gone home to change first but he was already late as is. He rang the doorbell, walking in at the same time. Going straight for the library, he peeked his head in and whistled making his mom look up from her book. She smiled a broad, genuine grin. “Come here, beautiful. How are you?” she said sliding off her chaise.
“Hello mother. I’m fine. You look beautiful and casually comfortable this evening.” He leaned down and kissed her on her smooth, ivory cheek. Her hair was pushed behind her ears and laying softly on her back. She was ten years younger than his father but she was more mature than him, in his eyes.
“How’s work going, honey. You’re not doing anything dangerous are you? You promised.”
He reared back looking at her like she was crazy. “Dangerous. Of course not.” He gave her his charming smile. “I’m in shorts and Jordans… how much dangerous
stuff can I do dressed like I’m going to a barbeque.”
She swatted him on his arm, laughing with him when he heard his father’s throat clearing behind him. Kissing his mom once again he turned and held his hand out for his father. His dad looked him up and down before finally clasped his hand.
“I guess it was laundry day.” His dad said drily.
“It’s poker dad, not a dinner party.”
“Honey, don’t pester him.” his mom said from behind him. Always on his side. His dad ignored his wife continuing to assess him.
“And you’re late. We started two hours ago.”
“I had work, dad.”
“I had work, dad.” His father said perfectly in synch with him, shaking his head at him. Turning and leaving the room, he followed behind his father’s tailored slacks and button down Polo shirt. Entering his father’s study there were two tables set up both full with older men in sets of fives playing what looked like Texas Hold’em. A few lingered by the wet bar talking quietly. His father’s voice spoke over the chatter. “Well look what I rustled up.”
Michaels threw his hand up, putting on his best fake smile, nodding at the men as he made his way through the large room. “You gonna play a round with us, Detective? Lose some of that hard-earned money you’re making now.” Michaels laughed, shaking Captain Lewis’ hand. He was one of the few friends of his father that he actually did like. He was sort of a mentor to him when he was in his first few years as a rookie. Now he was a Captain in Zone 3. He knew of their bust tomorrow in his zone but he’d never mention it here and in the open.
“I might play a couple hands, I can’t compete with the big dogs.” Michaels schmoozed.
His father seemed to like his respectful answer and took his seat back at one of the tables.
I need a drink. Unfortunately to get one he had to get over to the bar which was currently surrounded by his father’s best friend Lieutenant Reed and his kiss-up son, Justin. With a stoic face he approached and reached his hand out. “Mr. Reed how are you this evening?”
With a firm grip on his hand, Mr. Reed wasn’t the best at hiding his disdain. “Austin, interesting you were able to make it. I was just talking to Justin about you the other day. He said he hadn’t seen you in months.”
Not since I’d fucked his brains out and he left my apartment almost wearing a goddamn disguise. Fuckin’31 year old closet case. Michaels and Justin fucked all through high school but when Michaels wanted to call him his boyfriend, Justin freaked. Even through college they had sporadic dates on their holiday visits home but Michaels was not afraid of being gay. His family knew he was, and his work knew he was. If someone didn’t like it, than they were on his ‘fuck off’ list. Easy. So now Justin was officially on that list. “Yes, sir. Work is crazy but it’s always good to step out into the open.” Michaels glanced at Justin, making sure he caught his dig.
Justin shook Michaels’ hand, the pulse in his neck throbbing beneath his flushed skin. The man had always been handsome. His years on the force had been good for his body too, Michaels wasn’t going to act like he hadn’t noticed. “It’s good to see you Austin.”
Clearing his throat he motioned to the bar. “You men mind if I get a drink?”
Both of them stepped aside and let him get to the glasses. Choosing Patron as his spirit for the evening he poured a double and added a couple limes. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Justin watching him.
“So how’s it going on that task force?” Captain Reed asked him.
“Busy.”
“You must be so proud of the work you guys do. I heard that two of the guys shot up a neighborhood a few months ago. Left no survivors.” He sneered.
“When a raid turns into a hostage situation it can get messy, just thank goodness we stopped at nothing to save those little girls. I think that was another merit award given to my Lieutenants by the Mayor.” Michaels waved his hand as if he was confused. “I can’t keep up with all those awards.” He smirked walking off with his drink.
He was out on the balcony enjoying the cigar free air when he heard the patio door slide open. He didn’t bother turning around, hoping whoever it was would take the hint that he was done fake-smiling, kowtowing, and socializing, he’d appeased his father enough tonight.
“Hey.” The somber voice asked from beside him.
Not bothering to answer he continued to look out into the darkness. Justin came up next to him setting his bottle of beer on the deck rail and turned to side to face him. “You look really good, Austin.” He whispered, looking to the side to see if anyone was approaching. “How come you haven’t returned my calls?”
“Seriously?” Michaels turned to look at him. Hell. He remembered when he’d lose himself in those bright blue eyes. But the nervousness Justin displayed now was a huge turnoff for him. “That right there is why. You’re so damn scared. I can’t deal with that shit Just. I’m not gonna hide with you, man.”
Justin narrowed his eyes. “Look we all don’t work for the goddamn gay police spokesman.”
“Watch it.” Michaels growled.
“Yes. You’re precious Lieutenants. How dare I?” Justin moved in closer. “You used to defend me, Aussie.”
Michaels closed his eyes at the sound of his nickname on Justin’s tongue. “There’s nothing left to defend. You’re a scared daddy’s boy who’ll rather date countless debutants and picture me when you fuck them, rather than tell your dad you want me to be your guy.”
“Don’t do this. I know you want to be with me. I know -”
“Wrong. The word is ‘did’ and it was a long time ago. We’re not in college anymore. I’ve grown up… it’s too bad you didn’t.”
“Fine.” Justin pushed off the rail. “Maybe if those fairies you work with were taken down a peg or two, you wouldn’t be on this high horse.”
Michaels moved faster than Justin could anticipate. He gripped one hand around his throat and used his heel to kick the back of his left knee, making him fall down on it. Justin’s eyes went wide as he grasped at Michaels’ thick forearm. “Get the fu-”
Squeezing harder he silenced him and grabbed a handful of Justin’s hair, yanking his head up to look at him. His body was burning with anger. He held his breath as the feeling of hot coals dragged down his spine the madder he got. It was escalating out of control. Michaels leaned down almost placing his mouth on Justins’ and ground out between gritted teeth. “Don’t you ever fuckin’ threaten me or my team, you closet bitch. Or I’ll bury you so far under your own goddamn skeletons you’ll be presumed dead.” He yanked harder and a gasp escaped Justin. “Do you got it?”
Moisture built up in the corners of Justin’s eyes and Michaels backed-off. Surprised at his own rage. Fuck. I gotta get out of here.
Chapter Six
“Alright men. Lets make this clean and simple. Everyone knows where there supposed to be and what they’re supposed to do. Stay focused and don’t fuck up.”
“Helluva pep talk, God.” Day mumbled, tighten the clamps on his vest.
The guys laughed, all of them standing around looking bad ass in their tactical gear.
“You want a pep talk, join a cheerleading squad.” God raised his voice, frowning at them, a look of seriousness etched into the hard lines of his face. As he went around with his hand up, all of them giving him a hard high-five or a hard forearm bump, “but if you want to be a fuckin’ king, than you roll with me.”
“We’re with you, God.” They yelled in unison, turning and giving each other hard hits on the back, yanking at their vest, anything to amp each other up.
They took SWAT vehicle to the location. It was in an open area so there was no way to sneak in. They had a hawk in the sky that told them the deal was going down now. Michaels would take up his position on the roof of the building across the street to provide cover fire with three other snipers. They had the assistance of their precinct’s SWAT team on this raid since they anticipated a minimum of twenty men, but there was never
a way to be sure how many would be there and armed. His Lieutenants were always about safety first.
Michaels rode with the sniper team and were in position when he heard Day give the command. Five SWAT trucks pulled in from each side of the warehouse. All of them jumping out and swarming the building. God and his men were in the second vehicle facing the front side and Michaels slowed his breathing and watched throw his scope. The SWAT team moved in precision behind them. An announcement was made through the bullhorn that the building was surrounded at the same time that the door was bashed in. He had a good view on his men through the dirty window. God and Day were back to back, arms extended, weapons drawn they moved like they’d been partners all their lives. Each step in perfect synchrony with the others. Became the dynamic duo that everyone talked about. God barked out orders that was loud in Michael’s ear but he didn’t dare wince. He kept his eyes wide open, watching his team’s back through his scope. Men quickly went down in front of them.
Taken by surprise several of the men were surrendering, going down to their knees with arms raised high before they were restrained by the other SWAT members and pulled out of the building. Michaels saw movement further inside. “You got boogies towards the back.” He murmured.
“Copy.” Day answered quickly. He saw him throw up some hand signals to Ruxs and Green and they charged forward like the reckless bastards they were. Michaels had a clear view from his vantage point. Ruxs came from up top, leaping up on a set of crates, while Green attacked from below. A powerhouse move if he’d ever seen one. Green hit a man in his jaw with the butt of his shotgun, taking him down and driving a knee into his back. Ruxs’ guy didn’t even get fifteen feet before he was tackled and manhandled until his arms were secured behind his back. Looking further back three men were running towards the back doors with weapons in hand. “Men coming out the back, weapons drawn.”
“Don’t sit up there looking pretty Michaels.” God growled.
Michaels took in a breath, held it and squeezed the trigger of his M24 sniper riffle. A single shot pierced throw the window over his teams head and hit his target in the thigh sending him crashing to the ground. Michaels slowly released the breath. He saw the man’s buddy look back horrified and turned and aimed his weapon back inside the warehouse. Again. His eye precisely three inches from the scope, his on his target, he inhaled and hit the slick man in his shoulder, opting not to take the kill shot. Green was on him. Throwing him to the ground and zip tying his hands.
