Nothing Special V, page 6
part #5 of Nothing Special Series
“Well, at least we know who pulled the strings now,” God growled. “You’re Councilman Steele’s son?”
Steele slowly shook his head back and forth. “Vennapoeg. Nephew. Rasmus was my father’s twin. He asked me to come here after my partner was killed.”
They waited a second for him to keep going, but when they realized he wasn’t offering up anything else, Tech went back to reading. Finding out his uncle was a councilman should’ve been a piece of cake.
“Did a ton of black ops missions. Fourteen of them he headed up, until…” Tech stopped and Steele assumed he was stopped by all the black Sharpie that had to be all over those documents, but he kept reading. “There’re a lot of initials and codes I don’t understand, but it was a mission to recover a General Robert Belle. Led by Col. Steele, the Fifth Marine Regiment, nicknamed the Fearless Five, was ambushed—”
“How the fuck did you get that?” Steele’s smile fell like a deflated balloon. The cocky smirk long gone. No one, absolutely no one, should have that name. The general’s or his battalion’s. That was a black ops mission ordered directly by the Secretary of Defense. A general with top-level clearance and infinite knowledge of a new US base being built in Baghran had been captured and taken to be tortured for the information. The Fearless Five was a myth to most. His team were ghosts… he was the ghost. This wasn’t possible. The hacker shit was no longer cute, right now he felt like Tech was a terrorist with classified information and Steele’s hands began to clench at his sides as his pulse raced. Who the fuck was this man? Who sent him?
“Steele,” he heard someone say, but he wasn’t sure who.
Tech kept reading off the details of the worst days of his life. For thirty-six hours, they’d held those fuckers off. Took out as many as they could before… Steele’s head jerked as he tried to forcefully yank his mind back from that night.
“Steele.”
Tech’s head was down in the document – oblivious to Steele’s reaction – like he was reading the most interesting manuscript of his life. But this wasn’t the next Stephen King thriller… this was war. “There’s a lot of terminology I don’t know, but there’s mention of a suicide bomber and a regiment of sixty or more rebel insurgents.”
Steele just barely held in the growl that wanted to burst from his chest. He flicked his eyes up at the detective. He needed to stop immediately. Needed to stop talking.
“Tech, that’s enough.”
Steele cut his eyes over to Syn, to his sergeant. Stop him. He tried to convey with his eyes, because if he opened his mouth at the moment he was going to roar his rage and react. This man had broken the law, didn’t matter if he was a cop or not. He tried to keep a lid on his anger. Focused to remember where he was.
“Oh,” the young man blurted. “Here’s why he got the Medal. He killed over thirty of them and pulled the general and two of his men to safety. But… oh… but three members of his team were killed. Marks… Ramiraz….”
“Tech, no,” God hissed, but it was too late.
“And Ackerm—”
A jolt hit Steele’s chest at the first syllable of Ackerman’s name. No one in that room could move fast enough to keep him away from Tech. Before the smaller detective could finish the last syllable of his best friend’s name, Steele snapped his hand out and grabbed the documents, slinging them into the air at the same time he moved into Tech’s body and wrapped both his arms up in a clutch that was not only impossible to get out of but exceptionally painful. The man yelled out, his brown eyes blown and shining with fear. Both his narrow arms were hyperextended at the elbow, with one upward thrust Steele could snap both ulna bones at the same time.
“Hey! Whoa… Steele! Let him go! Easy… easy!”
“Don’t touch him!” Steele heard the strongest voice of all of them break over the yells. If God was ex-military, he knew what he was talking about. Because if any of the others got too close, or tried to touch him, he’d take care of them, too.
He could hear the yells of the men but he kept his eyes locked on Tech. “It’s illegal for you to possess that information,” he snarled, his anger bubbling beneath the surface. He kept the lock on Tech’s arms with one hand and shot his arm around the back of the smaller man’s neck, jerking him close to his mouth. “Don’t you ever say that name in your life. You don’t deserve to say that name.”
“Okay… okay, easy Steele. He’s not your enemy,” Syn crooned from a distance, his raspy voice breaking through. “He was only doing what we asked. Shawn was going to shred it right after.”
Steele listened to the sergeant’s words, the darkness around the edges of his vision fading back to color. When he looked closer, he could see the moisture, the panic in the detective’s eyes. He also saw the man’s anger, the shame at being the weaker opponent. Steele abruptly released him and Tech stumbled back, landing in Day’s arms. When his lieutenant tried to look him over, Tech brushed him off and shouldered past the rest of his team to storm out of the office. Syn bolted after him, his concern for his brother evident.
That’s when it hit Steele like a two-by-four to his chest. The regret. He’d used his skill on a man who hadn’t stood a chance. He’d attacked a man who had meant him no harm. Tech had just been doing his job. Fuck. Goddamnit. Steele ran his hands through his short strands of hair, trying not to beat himself up so hard for what he’d done. But how could he not? He’d just shown these men how fast he could snap at the mention of his fallen brothers. The office held that uncomfortable, dismal vibe that was the polar opposite of what it had been when he’d entered. He’d brought despair into their team… that meant he’d never be a member.
Steele bent and picked up the documents he’d knocked out of Tech’s hands. He looked at the few men still there, all of their eyes averted, not even able to look at him. There was only one thing he could say as he took his walk of shame towards the door. “Interview’s over. Test failed.”
God
“Damnit. What was Tech thinking?” God grumbled, dropping down into his chair. He propped his arms up on his desk, wishing the meeting had gone very differently.
“What do you mean? Tech was innocent here. That guy tried to break his arms in half, and for what?” Day paced, looking like he wanted to go after the guy and teach him a lesson. God grabbed his partner’s hand, stopping him midway between laps. He wished he could pull Day into him but he refrained. “It’s not like that. Those names were triggers.”
Day’s scowl finally receded, his look turning to empathy. He knew Day would understand. God had served as well, and he definitely had a few triggers of his own. But the rest of God’s team wasn’t looking all that convinced, especially when Syn walked back in with Tech close behind him. Syn held his hand up, signaling them to give him some distance. It was hard not to want to comfort him. That clutch had to hurt. It was an arm bar clutch trap. God knew it well, which was why he warned his men not to advance. The move could do significant damage, and he had a feeling that Steele was punishing himself right at that moment for using it.
Tech went back to his computer and began working on whatever it was he constantly did over there when he wasn’t under specific order, and God let him. Let him get himself situated.
“So, what do you want to do?” Day asked God.
He sat there a second longer just to be sure, but he believed he was doing the right thing. He looked at Ruxs and Green. “What did you guys think?”
“I think he’s a loose cannon.” Ruxs shrugged. “But then… so are we.”
“I don’t like what he did, man.” Green looked hard at God. He understood. It looked bad, and Tech was a member of their family and no one hurt their family… but this was different.
God stood up to address his men. “You guys heard what I did on a bust – before we got this task force – when that kingpin, Hansen had a gun to Day’s head. I wasn’t concerned about what was right… what was protocol. I put the entire bravo team in jeopardy, risked the lives of a lot of officers… to save him. I’d do it again. Syn. Do you remember what happened when Furi was attacked by his ex-husband in your house? You’d be in prison for murder right now if we hadn’t shown up in time. Green, you almost pulled your firearm on that woman… that housemother, when she let Curtis get bullied in that boys’ home and did nothing to stop it. You remember how you reacted when you first saw those bruises on your son’s face? Ruxs, when that crackhead got the drop on Green… you went fucking ballistic, man. Then he mentioned your mom… Jesus… it was a wrap. You were suspended for a week.” God looked around, noting the looks of understanding. “We all have our triggers, fellas. Steele ain’t no different. He came in for an interview and got ambushed with a memory he wasn’t prepared to deal with… one he had an extreme reaction to. Sometimes for those men, it doesn’t matter how many they saved; all they care about is how many they couldn’t. We’ve all been there.”
Green pffted. “In my defense, I was caught off guard, okay. No one got the fucking drop on me.”
“Bullshit!” Day burst out laughing. “You got your fuckin’ clock cleaned.”
Syn was the next one to laugh. This was how they reversed tense situations. There was always a joke that’d fit in somewhere, and it was usually Day who started it. When the laughter eased, God walked over to Tech. “You couldn’t have known. I could see you lost yourself in reading what he did. I have no doubt Steele’s service was—”
“Heroic… amazing,” Tech finished. “I blew it, though.”
“Not if you can forgive him. Because he won’t forgive himself, otherwise.” God gripped the young detective’s shoulder.
“I can. I just don’t know if he’ll forgive me. It was illegal to get that information, God. I was showing off. All of you can do so much.” Tech shrugged like this was nothing, but God was wondering if he’d missed something in Tech. “All I have are my computers. I wanted to show him what I could do, too. Why I’m even here.”
“We’ll all get the chance and he’ll get his chance.” God spun Tech’s chair around and bent so the man was looking directly at him. “No one on my team is dispensable. No one is weak. No one… especially you. There’s no way we could do this without you and you know it. So man up. Stop looking so damn sad. You just took an arm clutch by a Force Recon Marine and didn’t scream like a bitch, so hold your goddamn head up.”
Tech turned his chair back around, but God saw a little pride cross his face before he did.
“So, what’s the verdict?” God looked around. They knew what he was asking. Did they wanna work with Steele? After what happened, God had a little more of a say if he wanted the man on his team. He, himself, was psyched as shit to see what else Steele could do. The guy was a loose cannon. A hothead and terrible with authority… but wasn’t that their team motto? Steele would be uncontrollable, and God knew exactly where to put him.
When they all nodded in agreement, God pointed at Ruxs and Green. “You guys got a third. Go get your new partner.”
Steele
Steele leaped up on his raggedy porch and threw open his screen, only damaging it even more. He didn’t care. He’d be gone from here soon, anyway. His uncle would be hurt, but he’d screwed up, there’s nothing he could say or do now. Steele pulled the bottle of Jack out of the crinkled brown paper bag and dropped down in his La-Z-Boy in front of his television. He didn’t want the bottle but he didn’t want the memories, either. He cut his eyes to the stack of papers he’d taken from Tech, a printout of all his mistakes.
Damn… Tech. Steele had immediately liked the guy. That shy demeanor that he could sense concealed a fearless animal. The detective was more than just a man behind a computer screen. He had the trifecta. Smarts, looks, and Steele had hoped to see his fight soon. But he’d blown it. He knew the man hated him now. He was a bully. Everyone hated bullies. No doubt, Tech’s team was probably hunting him down for revenge. The bad part of it all was he actually wanted to work with those guys. Taking a deep breath, he tilted his head back against the headrest. He’d disgraced himself. His father, his uncle… Ackerman. Fuck. Chris, if you could see me now. His gunnery would kick his ass. Steele forwent the shot glass and took a large gulp from the bottle. Grimacing as the burn slid down his throat and landed like dead weight in his gut.
Like a glutton for punishment, he reached behind his seat and pulled out the ten-year-old answering machine that he’d kept in his apartment the entire time he’d been deployed. He took another chug on the bottle and closed his eyes, pressing play. Ackerman’s gruff voice filled his tiny trailer and flooded his mind with memories and pain.
“What’s up grunt? If you’re listening to this, then we’re finally back stateside. Thank fucking God, huh. I uh… I wanted to have you come over, man. I feel like a damn coward doing this on your machine, but… I wanted to let you know that… I think I feel the same way you do. More than brothers, ya know. I mean, I wanna be more. Fuck… this sounds coy as shit. Just get over here… I’m waiting… I uh… I love you, man.”
The message ended with a click of the button. Steele was supposed to go to him, but Ack never made it home. When Steele heard that message, he’d trashed his place… everything but the ancient answering machine. Even now, he wanted to take out the tape and crush it in his hands but he stopped himself by taking another long swig of the harsh whiskey. All those nights out there with Ackerman – his straight comrade – had changed their relationship. They fell in love. So many nights of sitting up, sleeping back-to-back, with their heads on each other’s shoulders, sharing secrets no one else in the world knew. Endless days of hiking through the dangerous jungles of Malaysia, trusting his best friend at his six to protect him. All those nights of sleeping in subterranean temperatures, Ack’s thick body wrapped around him from behind to keep each other warm, his hot breath on Steele’s sensitive ear. It was thought that love and war went hand and hand. But Steele couldn’t believe that shit anymore. Because too many war heroes never made it back to their loved ones.
He turned his television up louder over the heavy metal music blasting next door. After a few more gulps, he wouldn’t give a damn, like most nights. Steele scowled, staring at the replay of last night’s Raiders game. He was becoming a functioning drunk. Since he’d left Oakland last month, he had to have bought at least eight or nine bottles of whiskey. The sound of heavy footsteps on his porch halted his internal berating.
A fist banged hard on his door, but he didn’t bother to get up. He had the start of a nice buzz going, so whoever it was could fuck off.
“Coming in. Don’t shoot, Marine.”
Steele’s brows furrowed as he swiveled his chair in the tight space towards the front door. A hand waved around the door, then a black boot came into focus before Green’s face appeared. Steele groaned. Damn, they really were coming for him. He wouldn’t fight them. He deserved whatever they dished out on their friend’s behalf. After Ruxs came in behind him, Steele held his breath, wondering if Tech was with them, but he wasn’t.
“Nice place you got here, man.” Ruxs’ pale green eyes took in the meager surroundings while he ran his palm over his buzz cut.
Steele looked at the outdated furnishings that came with the place – except for his television and stereo. “Yeah well, the online pictures didn’t do it justice. Came fully furnished… can’t beat it. Honestly, didn’t think I’d be here long.”
Ruxs grinned at him and sat on the black- and red-checkered loveseat – that clashed horribly with the sage green carpeting – in front of the window. His leather coat gaped open, showing a cool Kid Rock Snake Label t-shirt. When he sat back, Steele got a view of the blade under his shoulder and the black Beretta in a holster tight to his hip. Green stood close to the door – which was still right by the loveseat – propping one big boot on the wall. Steele could see more of the tribal tats licking up his neck under the white V-neck t-shirt. They both looked like renegades.
“I take it this isn’t a social visit,” Steele grunted, pulling out his little cigars and lighting one. He put the bottle next to his chair and looked at the two detectives that took up more space than the furniture. “Are you here to arrest me for assaulting an officer?”
“We don’t arrest our own team.”
Steele watched Ruxs for the punchline, but he never cracked a smile.
Instead, Green took over. “About what happened today, Steele. We’ve all messed up, so don’t sweat it. Even with each other. No one’s holding it against you.”
Steele jerked his head back, shaking it in disbelief. “Even Detective Murphy.”
“Especially Detective Murphy,” Green and Ruxs said in unison.
After a couple seconds, Ruxs frowned and craned his head back to look out the dirty window. “What the fuck, man? How can you sit here and listen to that racket? That’s not even metal, that sounds like a man being raped in Dolby.”
“Want me to tell him to turn that shit down?” Green smiled like he’d enjoy nothing more.
“No. I usually just turn up the television.” Steele dismissed the thought of noise and instead focused on what Green said before the music distracted him. Steele looked back and forth between them. He didn’t believe it. Tech had to have a hit out on him by now.
“He’s sorry about what he did. He didn’t know that speaking those words would do that to you. And he’s real… well… he’s come down on himself pretty hard. He was just trying to show you his skills. If you watched that video of the Artist bust then you’ve seen ours. He wanted to show you his. I’m sure all this shit can be squashed with a handshake.”
Steele still wasn’t sure if he was buying the “everything’s all good” speech. He wouldn’t become part of a team that already hated him, just because his uncle pulled some strings. It would only lead to no back up when he radioed for it. “You guys seem real tight. Any of you ever put your hands on each other the way I did him today?”
“Pfft, yeah. It’s been about a year and a half since the last incident. But Michaels clocked the shit out of God.” Green chuckled.
