Frost
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Wild said.
“What’s up?” Frost glanced away from the information on his laptop.
“Look what the sheriff’s department just forwarded to the Phoenix main email,” the tracker said, and rolled back from his computer so Frost could take a look.
Frost scooted his chair closer and Wild opened the small video. “That fucker,” Frost growled, and shoved back his chair.
“We better let the boss man know,” Wild said.
Together, they walked into Stefano’s office. Their boss looked up, saw their faces, and frowned.
Once Stefano got the email and video file open, Frost and Wild watched over his shoulder as the scene from the small video clip unfolded one more time.
The scene from the video could have been something from out of a fucking movie, but appeared all too real. A man knelt on the ground in a deserted warehouse. Two men, one of the men being Marco Jennings, held the guy down on his knees. Yakov Lakhonin walked into view of the camera and said something. The guy on the ground shook his head, then Yakov walked closer and shot the guy in the head.
Yakov then turned and gave a thumbs up toward the camera. Frost would bet money Yakov had no idea he was being filmed. The guy seemed too relaxed to know he was on camera.
“We’ve got him.” Amazement and shock filled Stefano’s voice.
“We sure the fuck do,” Frost said, pulling his gun and checking the clip.
Stefano stood and moved to his office door. From there, he called the team into his office and quickly called the chief on the phone.
Noah and Seth had just come through the door. Storm came to stand just inside the door. Allison took a seat next to Reggie on the small couch. It was a tight squeeze, but they all piled into the commander’s office and watched the video.
The chief was on speaker phone, the man had his own copy of the video by then.
“Okay, so this is a full on manhunt,” the chief’s robotic voice directed over the speakers. “I’ll let the sheriff’s department know to keep this video under wrap. I’ll be contacting the US Marshals and FBI so you’ll have back up.”
“Jennings and Miller are out on bail,” Frost chimed in.
“Yes, I’m reading the FBI report right now,” the chief responded. “Okay, I’ll have Yakov, Jennings, and Miller’s pictures sent to every police station in California and the surrounding states just in case they run for it.”
“I’m putting you on two-man teams to do stakeouts at every location we have on Lakhonin, Jennings, and Miller,” Stefano interjected.
“Watch yourselves and each other out there,” the chief added.
“Storm and Wild, you’re team one. Reboot Hell and Frost: team two, Ghost and Mamma Bear: team three. Reggie will run the command center remotely from here. There are five known addresses. I’m putting you on the most well-known places. The FBI and Marshals will cover the others. Check your phones for addresses and hit the streets, team. We have zero time to waste,” Stefano continued after the chief had disconnected the call.
It might have been better if Stefano had put Seth with someone else, but it also made sense that he hadn’t. Recently, he and Seth were frequently paired together. But honestly, the last thing he wanted was to be trapped in a vehicle with Seth. What if Seth wanted to talk about feelings and shit? He rubbed his sweaty palms down his jeans. He’d rather take a slow train ride through hell.
Frost tugged at the collar of his T-shirt, and then shrugged out of his jacket. Unclipping the seat belt, he shifted in his seat. All he wanted was peace and quiet, and he would have had it if Seth would shut the fuck up.
The man’s low, sexy voice had been a constant thrum against his eardrums, and the sound went straight to his crotch. Just don’t think about it. Think of something else. He turned and squinted out the window, but couldn’t see shit. Fog had rolled in, hovering over the street. Its thickness clung to the street lights and gave the quiet neighborhood an eerie glow.
The same house they’d staked out before stood quietly on the other side of the street. So far, there’d been no sign of Yakov or his men. So far, the only thing that moved had been a neighbor taking his ankle biter dogs for a walk.
Seth ended the call and turned in his seat. Frost kept his gaze trained out the window.
“Nothing over on Tenth Street,” Seth murmured.
Tenth, where Noah and Allison were, was supposedly where Jagger Miller lived. In the off chance that Wyatt “Jagger” Hughes was undercover, they decided to continue calling the man Miller. Although, they hadn’t found shit to indicate Hughes was on their side.
“Yakov may already be gone,” Frost said, running his gaze over the edges of the houses where the fog clung the thickest.
“For some reason, I don’t think so.”
“Why?” he asked irritably and shifted in his seat. Beneath the cover of darkness, he adjusted his dick.
“Because he has unfinished business. If he’s really here for revenge, then he’s got to be after Noah or Uncle Rossi.”
“Or you,” Frost added and rubbed at his chest where the acid from the coffee earlier still burned.
“He doesn’t know about me.”
“And I aim to keep it that way,” he said, and then snapped his gaze back to the street, scowling. A gentle hand landed on his arm and his muscles tensed. He tugged away and rubbed at the spot.
It might have been dark, but Frost saw the quick flash of teeth when Seth smiled.
“Thank you.”
He shrugged. “I’d do the same for anyone in the team.” He played it off.
“Mmhmm.”
Frost whipped his head around. “What does ‘mmhmm’ mean?”
“Nothing, just mmhmm,” the cheeky fucker said. “Are we still on for that date?”
“It’s not a date. It’s dinner,” he muttered.
“Date, dinner, whatever. You asked me out.” Seth chuckled softly, a light, almost musical sound.
It wasn’t a fucking date. Everybody had to eat. It was only a meal. Two people eating food together. He must have taken too long to answer because Seth’s started nervously chewing on his plump bottom lip and those large, green pools were wide.
“Yeah. We’re on,” he answered gruffly. Fuck, he was in trouble.
There’s movement,” he whispered.
Seth’s head snapped up and he sank down a bit in his seat. Frost waited three more seconds, and then quickly eased open his door. Seth scooted over the center console and followed him out of the vehicle. Crouching low, he ran across the street with Seth at his six, staying in the shadows and cover the fog afforded. They came up suddenly on two men walking across a wide lawn.
“Federal Marshals, stop right there,” Frost ordered. US Marshal Mac Mackenzie had sworn in all of Phoenix on the off chance they’d need it. Frost found it sounded cool as shit to say it out loud.
Because really… saying, “Phoenix, put your hands up,” just sounded stupid. Very few people knew about them. The team was so top secret, not even some heads of states knew of their existence. Nobody was going to stop when they shouted. Besides, he was more likely to shoot a person than ask them to stop, but he was trying to rein his shit in for the commander’s sake. He’d started to worry about Stefano’s blood pressure when the commander had yelled for a good twenty minutes the last time he’d shot a perp.
“Fuck you, copper. You just walked into a trap.” One of the bad guys cackled as if his partner had said the funniest thing. More laughter followed from others who joined in.
Yakov must have been recruiting. Men came at them from all sides. Not thinking, Frost shoved Seth behind a small wall that extended outward from the house and pulled his gun.
Seth cursed loudly when he lost his footing and fell to his ass. Frost shot the ring leader in the head before he ducked behind the wall. The bad guys scattered and a few bullets cleaved into the concrete.
“You fucking do that again, Asher, and I’ll shoot you myself,” Seth snapped, and then lifted up to balance his gun on the top of the wall. Seth then proceeded to shoot two thugs in quick succession.
Fuck, he was losing his shit. “Sorry,” he apologized. It had been a gut reaction to protect Seth.
“Phoenix! You copy?” Seth hissed, lifting a hand to his earpiece.
“On the way, hold tight,” Storm barked the reply through the mic.
“Can’t. Come find us,” Frost growled, pressing his own earpiece. Men dressed in black swarmed out. Fuck this! He reached for Seth and pulled the man after him. They ran, staying low. Shots followed, but they were quickly swallowed by the fog.
Stopping a brief second near a tree, he checked his clip. Seth did the same. “Let’s drive,” Seth suggested.
He nodded and they ran to the vehicle. Leaping behind the wheel, he jammed the keys in the ignition and the engine roared to life beneath his steady hands. As soon as Seth was safely inside, Frost turned on the fog lights and low beams and stomped the gas. Tires screeched as the SUV lurched forward.
A perp came out of the fog, and then jumped out of the way as they barreled down the street. The guy spun and followed up with a shot that took out the rear window. Which surprised the hell out of Frost, because the only handgun he knew of that could shoot through bulletproof glass was a 454 Casull.
More shots were fired and men swarmed out of the area in front. Frost aimed the SUV at three of them coming from about fifty yards down the street. Bullets pinged off the hood, slammed into doors, and created craters in the body of the black vehicle.
He gripped the wheel, clenched his teeth, and drove right into the shooters. They scattered before he reached them, jumping out of the way. A shot took out his front tire, and then the other one, and the SUV swerved, jumped the curb, and screeched to a shuddering stop.
Seth rolled down his window and began picking them off as they came out of the fog. Frost jammed another clip into his gun and shot one guy in the leg. There were so many of them. Too many for the two of them to take on alone.
Where was the fucking cavalry? In the next moment, Storm and Wild charged into the area driving a massive Hummer that did, in fact, mow down one of the perps.
Other vehicles roared onto the street and tires squealed. Returning fire, Yakov’s men scattered. US Marshal Mac Mackenzie’s booming voice could be heard in the distance, shouting orders to get the fuck down.
Several of Yakov’s men were between them and the team, and Frost didn’t like it.
“What’s the call?” Frost shoved open his door, shot another perp, and looked back at Seth.
Seth had been damned quiet since he had fucked up and shoved the man behind the wall.
“Make it to the side of that house,” Seth pointed.
The team had to suddenly do fucking crowd control when the neighbors started spilling out of their homes. From where they crouched some distance away, he heard Roscoe and his boss, Kane Quintana, shouting at people to stay indoors and lock up their houses.
“Let’s do this,” Frost said, and then yanked Seth close and sealed their lips together for a quick moment. Seth’s lips were firm at first, but softened in that brief second of contact.
“Great timing for a fucking kiss, Asher,” Seth complained.
“I know, huh?” He wasn’t smiling.
“Who the hell stops in the middle of getting shot at and steals a kiss?” Seth glared at him.
“You’re dating a crazy man.” Frost slipped out of the SUV.
“I thought you said we weren’t dating!”
With Seth on his six, Frost ran to the side of a nearby house. Several shots followed them.
“I’m thinking it over,” Frost admitted, checking the clip in his gun and then slamming it home.
“Like I said, great timing award.”
He grunted.
Apparently, the perps were told to take out as many of them as possible, because the show of law enforcement was not slowing them down. If anything, Yakov’s men showed more determination.
Frost wished he had time to talk to Seth, but he didn’t. Instead, he lifted Seth’s hand to his mouth and kissed his fingers. Ignoring Seth’s surprised look, Frost turned away and eased down a small walkway.
They slipped through the back gate of a track home and moved along the side where the garbage cans sat.
“Perfect. Stop right there,” a voice demanded, and to Frost’s horror, a gun came out of the foggy darkness and settled against Seth’s temple.
Without hesitation, Frost struck. With a brutal blow, he snapped the gun from the man’s hand and pistol whipped the guy with several savage blows. Another figure emerged and Seth ducked and kicked out the thug’s knee cap, taking the guy down and leaving him writhing in pain.
Frost stepped in and took out another man coming from the opposite direction. Pain exploded from his jaw when a fourth guy caught him on the side of his head with a brutal blow. His rage welled swiftly. If something happened to Seth… He pushed through the pain and jabbed at the thug’s throat. Seth came up from his right and kicked out.
Two more men came out and Seth spun. He suddenly had a barrel of a gun pressed to his forehead.
Too far away now, Frost froze, and so did Seth. His eyes met Seth’s, their gazes holding. Sure, they could take out the one, but how many more were in the area? His unspoken question was answered when a floodlight suddenly lit up the backyard of the house as Marco Jennings, Jagger Miller, and two thugs stepped out of the fog.
They all held weapons, and the distance between them was too great for Frost to do anything other than grit his teeth. He badly wanted to step in front of Seth but instead, he stilled and leveled his gaze at Jennings and Miller.
He’d been too focused on this thing between him and Seth. It had been a costly mistake. He hadn’t seen the setup, and now Seth had a gun to his head. Frost’s throat closed, his gaze swiveled back and burned into Seth’s. He tried to convey patience. Seth’s fists clenched and Frost’s stomach dropped.
He knew that look.