Page 22 of Alistair

“What about the chopper pilot? Anything strange with her?” asked Sor casually.

“No, not at all. Again, from what we were told, she was a pro. Didn’t let the assholes talking to her get under her skin. She was calm and cool the whole time. Watched her chopper and got everyone home. Except Juarez, and that wasn’t her fault.”

“Did they ever lose sight of him? Why didn’t someone do a head count?” asked Kev.

“Team lead was supposed to do the headcount. When they boarded, he said the count was good.”

“Who was the team lead?” asked Alistair.

“Andy Brashear. He’s under fire now because of all this. I don’t think he knew anything was going on. He’s torn up about it all. He’s a good man. Good agent. He’s just reached his prime, if you know what I mean.”

“Explain,” said Matt.

“He just turned sixty. I know that’s not old, but for an agent, it is. I honestly think it was a case of missing a step, and he never misses a step.” Alistair nodded.

“I think we need to speak with him.”

It was nearly midnight by the time they dropped off the DEA agents. They knew they would have to wait until morning to speak with Brashear, so they booked a few hotel rooms and took advantage of a late dinner in the bar. It was surprisingly crowded. Obviously, all of D.C. ate dinner later than those at Belle Fleur.

“I’m not sure what to think about this guy. If he truly made a mistake on his count, I still find it strange that someone didn’t notice that Juarez was missing. I mean, I would know if one of you wasn’t here,” said Kev.

“I agree with you, but also understand that not everyone has a procedure like us. You heard him. They were pretty much allowing the Marines to take control of everything. It makes me wonder if he was in the middle of it at all or standing back.”

The bartender set the plates in front of them at the high-top table, and Alistair smirked at the plates of the brothers, Kev and Matt.

“You guys eating for three?” he smirked.

“Man, I’ve got forty pounds on you,” said Matt. “I need more calories. Besides, this is just a mini steak compared to what I usually eat. I’m not a salad guy like you.”

“I’m eating a salad because it’s after midnight, and I’d like to actually sleep and not have a stomachache. Besides, I’ve got chicken on it. There’s protein.”

“Whatever, brother,” laughed Kev.

“Hey,” said Garr, nodding toward a table at the end of the bar. “Look at those women.”

They casually looked around, then toward the end of the bar. Three women sat at another high-top table sipping water with lemon. All three were pathetically thin, almost sickly looking. They looked nervous and unsure of themselves, constantly looking at their phones.

“Interesting,” said Alistair. “I think our little birds are waiting for a delivery.” He waved the bartender over.

“What can I get you fellas?” he asked.

“Just wondering if you’ve seen those women before. One of them looks really familiar to me, but I can’t put my finger on where I’ve seen her.”

“This is the first time I’ve seen them in here. They’ve been here for over an hour, and all they’ve done is order water. I’d give ‘em a burger for free if I thought they’d actually eat it.”

“Thanks,” nodded Alistair.

The men ate their meal a little slower, watching as people exited the bar. A few entered but had a quick drink and left once again.

“Last call,” announced the bartender. Reluctantly, the women rose to leave, and one of them stumbled. Knowing they’d had nothing except water, the team watched them closely.

“Rosie, are you okay?” asked one of the girls.

“I need my pills. Where is he?”

“Here,” said the other woman, handing her a pill bottle. “Take some of mine.”

The woman swallowed three pills, and Alistair wanted to take them from her and shake her. She was so thin he worried that he might actually break her in two. When they passed their table, she stumbled again, her friends fighting to hold her up.

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