Page 43 of Alistair

“Not when it kills everyone who takes it.”

“You won’t kill us. You’re feds,” he grinned.

“You’re out of luck, Roper, old boy. We’re not feds. We’re much, much worse. We operate under no guidance from the federal government or military. We operate by our own rules and regulations. You killed a Marine. A brother. And you’ve tried to kill three more and a female pilot, also a Marine. That’s gonna make you dead,” said Alistair.

Roper’s face paled, and he looked at the men on the ground, shaking his head.

“Which one of you sold me out? Who was it?” he yelled.

“No one here sold you out, you piece of shit,” said East. “We’re just very good at what we do. Now, you can make this easy on yourself and tell us where your brother is, or when we blow this entire operation to kingdom come, you’ll be tied right in the middle of it.”

He laughed, shaking his head at the men.

“It won’t make a difference. Not one little bit of difference. We’ll build another and another and another until we get this shit legal.”

“And we’ll blow all of them, and you will never get this shit legal because we’ve found out what’s in it and why it’s so addictive,” said Alec.

“Addictive?” said one of the men. “You said it would only help with weight loss.” Roper looked away from the man, the others staring at him.

“Are you all on this shit?” asked Alistair. All but one nodded the affirmative. “They have you mixing the components for the weight loss drug with opioids. This shit is as addictive as fentanyl. You won’t be able to get off of it by yourselves.”

“We didn’t know!” yelled one of the men. “We thought we were producing something that was helping people. I swear to God, I didn’t know. My mom died of a fentanyl overdose. I wouldn’t do that to someone else.”

Tailor looked at Alec, then at the rest of the younger men. He stepped back a few steps, dialing a number and talking for several moments. When he was done, he returned to the group.

“You’re going to get the chance of a lifetime here,” he said. “In about thirty minutes, a bus headed to county jail will be coming up the mountain. Right behind is another bus for a rehab facility. You can choose one or the other. If it’s rehab, we’ll pay for it. You’ll still have to appear before a judge about all of this, but if you’re honest, you’ll get leniency.”

There was silence at first. No one was jumping to take the offer. Tailor just stared at the men, confused by the reluctance.

“You’re fools,” smirked Roper. “They won’t take rehab.”

“Shut up,” said Alistair. “They’re grown men who can speak for themselves. Speak up. Do it, or I’ll let this fool speak for you.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to go to rehab,” said one young man. He appeared to be between twenty-five and thirty, wearing a wedding band. “I knew something was wrong with the drugs. I just wanted more and more and couldn’t figure out why. I want to be clean. But then what?”

“Then what?” frowned Alistair. “Then you get to choose the life you want to live.”

“What life? My wife and kids were starving before I got this job. You destroy this, I have no other alternatives other than the mines, and I won’t work there. I refuse.”

“You’re telling me the only jobs in the area are mines and illegal drugs?” said Sor.

“I’m saying that’s our only options,” said the man.

“There are other options,” said Garr, holding up his phone. “I’m looking at job postings right now, jobs that don’t require college degrees. You have opportunity to do anything you want to do. You choose the bus you want to get on, and we’ll not only pay for the rehab, we’ll have someone help you with job placement.”

“Why? Why would you do that for us, mister?” asked another man.

“Because everyone should be able to have a good job and support their family. Not this. Not this bullshit,” said Alistair. “And definitely not the bullshit this asshole is selling when his brother is sitting somewhere in a huge mansion, making millions on shitty films and destroying other people’s careers.”

They let them stew on that for a bit while they pushed all the barrels, boxes, crates, and pill bottles to the center of the grove area.

“Buses are at the bottom near our vehicles,” said Rett. Alistair looked at Roper, and he just stared at him.

“Last time. Where is your brother?”

“Last time,” he sneered, “fuck off.”

“I admire your devotion and brotherly love. I hope your brother honors that at your funeral. He obviously doesn’t give a shit about you since he seems to enjoy placing you in harm’s way and not himself. In fact, he’s hoping you take the fall for it all, which, unfortunately, you will.”

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