Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 128702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 644(@200wpm)___ 515(@250wpm)___ 429(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 644(@200wpm)___ 515(@250wpm)___ 429(@300wpm)
“A knuckleduster dagger. Got it custom made in England. It’s saved my life a few times.”
Tech nodded as he came back to Steele’s side and placed the medium-sized plastic container on the table beside him. “I have to get you fitted for your earpiece. You can’t be in the field long without it. It’ll take twenty-four hours for the shell to harden but you’ll be with Ruxs and Green, so I’ll be able to reach you if I have to.”
“I don’t need that.” Steele looked quizzically at the kit that Tech was setting up. He was sure all the tools looked like he was about to perform a type of surgery on Steele’s ear, the long ear forceps lying next to his thigh.
“Unfortunately, this isn’t negotiable. Everyone has one and is required to keep it on them at all times. Even if you’re on a date, it should be in your pocket. You don’t have to put it in unless you need me… um… the team.” Tech caught the slight lift of Steele’s mouth but ducked his head back down, concentrating on unwrapping a piece of putty to mold to Steele’s ear canal.
“I can simply call you if I need you… or the team.” He grinned lazily.
Tech took a deep breath. “Cell phones have technical difficulties, interference, and dropped calls, whatever. What if there’s no signal and you need back up? You’re undercover, so you can’t carry a radio. We only use radios when we’re on a big bust so you guys can communicate. God doesn’t take those kinds of risks with his team. Sometimes, time is of the essence. You might not even have time to wait for a connection before you need me to get someone to you. My phones are to communicate within the precinct. Don’t worry. This will be molded to your ear; you’ll hardly notice it’s in.”
Steele blew an exasperated breath and Tech hoped earpieces weren’t another trigger or something. He lifted his left arm to show the large-faced watch on his arm. “It’s a smart watch. I press the icon of who I need to speak to. You’ll only hear me. I can sync them together so everyone can hear each other, but I haven’t had that type of emergency in a very long time. So, there won’t be seven men screaming in your ear, if that’s your concern. When you put it in, you only need to say my name and I’ll respond. No one else. When you need to speak to me, you’ll press the computer image on it and speak, press it again when you’re done.”
“I already have a watch,” Steele grumbled.
“Well, now you have a better one,” Tech quipped right back. “I can track you with that watch. Pull up a map for you to get to safety. Send you intel… almost anything.”
“Your earpiece is always in?” Steele squinted and leaned to the side, looking at his ear.
“Even in the shower.” Tech turned and showed the small ivory piece tucked deep in his ear.
“How do you even get that out?”
Tech pulled out a little rubber finger from his pants pocket and pushed it on his pinky. He put it in his ear and the magnetic back gripped the earpiece and slid it out like nothing. He was used to it and it was so comfortable he rarely realized it was in. “Has to be small so it’s not seen when you’re undercover. When I’m off, the guys will use their cells to call me. This is for work only. No one alerts me on the com just to ask for the Falcons’ score in Sunday’s game.”
“Fine. But I’ll do it myself,” Steele said when Tech went to reach for his ear.
“No. You don’t know what you’re doing. This stuff is too expensive to let you try it and mess it up. It doesn’t hurt at all. The whole thing takes twenty minutes, once the mold is set, the rest I can do without you.” Tech waited. When Steele finally conceded, he reached for his ear.
Steele
Steele looked at Tech’s profile while he set out all the tiny tools to make him an earpiece. His hands moved methodically over the delicate pieces, putting each item in its place. It was way outside of Steele’s scope of knowledge. The young man was a genius. As he looked around at all the sophisticated technology, he couldn’t help but marvel at the detective. This was something you’d see built by an engineer that worked for Bill Gates or something, making a six-figure salary, not in an Atlanta precinct, and he found himself wanting to know Tech’s story.
He looked sexy today in his fitted jeans and black, slim-fitted, ribbed turtleneck. The black, plastic framed glasses set off his entire “I’m a hot nerd” look, but the body didn’t quite match. He was fit and toned in a Peter Parker kind of way. Tech probably couldn’t get overly muscular, but it was clear he worked out. His biceps were probably the size of small apples when he flexed, and Steele hoped he’d get an opportunity to see them.