Page 21 of Alistair

“What’s wrong?” asked Hiro.

“The trees. There was a tree house at the site. Not really a tree house. More like a fancy deer stand where someone could watch the entire event. It looked like someplace where someone could sleep or hide, so I sent one of the agents to check it out. I never followed up with him because I thought his own leader would do it. By the time we left, I never thought anything else of it.”

“Did he? Did he follow up and go into that tree house? It’s important. Did he go up there?” frowned AJ.

“I don’t know. I didn’t see him again after that.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“Oscar Juarez. Nine years with the DEA, a degree in political science, stellar record with the agency,” said Hiro.

“Where is he?” asked Cam.

“No one knows. No one remembers seeing him come off the mountain. No one remembers seeing him the day after the raid. And no one has seen him since. His director says that he was scheduled for some time off, and they thought he took it a bit early. But he was supposed to be back three days ago.”

“We need to go back up to that mountain and check the deer stand or tree house, whatever it is,” said Luke. “Send Alistair, Sor, Garr, Gator, Matt, and Kev. Get them in and out fast.”

Two hours later, the six men were seated on the chopper while in stealth and whisper modes. No one would see it or hear it. Landing in the open grove, they carefully stepped out, searching for heat signatures of any type.

Not seeing anything larger than a racoon or porcupine, they moved forward, searching the trees for the structure.

“Up there,” nodded Sor, pointing into the tree.

He swung his rifle over his back and began taking the makeshift steps up the tree. Two-by-fours had been cut and strategically placed as steps. They were secure, solid, and well-made. Someone was intentional in this. Only halfway up, he turned to the others.

“I think we’ve got a dead body. The smell is awful,” he said.

“Base? Find out what they want us to do. Leave it or take it home.”

“Roger that.”

Sor continued up the steps and confirmed what his nose was telling him. Pieces of a DEA jacket and shirt were scattered around the bloodied, half-chewed body.

“Shit,” he whispered. “I think he was attacked by a bear, but definitely after he was dead. His sidearm is still holstered.”

“DEA says don’t touch the body. They want to send someone out there to investigate. They’re asking if you can sit tight until their agents arrive.”

“We can sit, but if someone starts shooting, we’re shooting back,” said Alistair.

It took the DEA four hours to get someone dropped into the grove. Their helicopter was loud, seen, and not so inconspicuous. The first agent climbed the tree and immediately turned, disposing of his dinner.

“Don’t these guys see this shit all the time?” frowned Sor.

“You would think so,” said Alistair.

It was another four hours before they had the body and its remaining pieces bagged and loaded on the VG chopper. They were going to carry all of them to the pickup location. Alistair looked at the men, their faces pale.

“Sorry about your teammate, brother,” he said.

“He was a good guy. Solid agent, never did anything wrong. By the book all the way. Whoever did this to him is going to pay.”

“Were you guys here that night?” asked Sor.

“No. We were on another team taking down a ring in Georgetown. Oscar always preferred the difficult cases. His younger brother died of an overdose, so he was hell-bent on taking down every dealer he could.”

“Did you hear from any of those that were there if anyone saw someone or something that was out of place that night? Maybe a director or VIP that shouldn’t have been there?” asked Alistair. They all looked thoughtfully at one another, shaking their heads.

“No. Nothing,” said the man. “The Marines did most of the work from what we understand. No offense, but those bastards are willing to do all the dangerous shit, and I’m smart enough to let them and stay out of their way. Once the shooting was done, they moved in and arrested who was left, bagged the dead, and came back.”

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