Page 27 of Pierre
“Yes,” said Ham. “She was trampled in the chaos. The neighborhood is burying her in her garden. He said everyone knew that she was trying to save those kids. That might be what got her killed.”
“Maybe,” said Pierre. “I need to find this Sister Josephina. It’s going to take us all day to get to Sacred Heart.”
“Maybe not,” said Butch. “I’ve found a man willing to give us a ride there. We’ll have to figure out something for the ride back.”
“We could call Evie,” said Ham.
“No,” said Pierre, shaking his head. Ham raised his brows with a smirk. “Sorry, sir. No. I mean, I don’t want anyone to know what we have available or who we are. Right now, we’re just curious Americans.”
“Fair enough,” nodded Ham. “And don’t ever apologize for taking control of your op. My apologies for sticking my nose too far in.”
“Marjorie and Ambry, we need you to stay here. It’s obvious that things are getting worse out there, and we need to make sure that you’re safe. It will be easier for us if we try to find this woman on our own.”
“I understand,” said Marjorie, looking at Ambry.
“That’s because you didn’t grow up with a bunch of men always telling you what to do and grunting their alpha male orders,” smirked Ambry.
“I wish I had,” said Marjorie with a grin. “It was nice to feel so protected out there. I don’t think I’ve ever had that. Thank you all for being there.”
“Our pleasure,” smiled Butch. Ambry smiled at the woman with a wink.
“Traitor. Fine. I’ll abide by the alpha rules. Besides, we have evening shift.” She stood, kissed Pierre, and then her father and soon-to-be father-in-law. “Be safe. I don’t want to have to call home with bad news.”
Beside the docks, a man waited in a large, open-air truck. The sides were high, with open slats to prevent things, or people, from falling off the back. Ham and Butch sat in the front of the truck with the driver, while the other men sat in the back.
“How is Ambry really doing?” asked Frank of his son.
“She’s a real trooper. Didn’t let anything rattle her, and she’s amazing with the patients, obviously. We had a bit of drama with another nurse, but she didn’t hesitate to take care of that. Neither did Marjorie.”
“I love Ambry, obviously. But I like the woman, Marjorie, as well. I like your team, son. You’ve done well,” smiled Frank.
He looked so much like Pierre’s grandfather, Pierre, better known as Miller. He was big, wide, strong, and the whiskey-colored eyes of the Robicheauxs shone through.
“That means a lot to me, Dad. Being here reminds me of how much you and Mom have done for me. Everything. Everything that I am, I owe to you two. I could have been one of those kids. That’s not lost on me.”
“I know,” he nodded. “It’s what brought me here. Jak and Ham were working down here with their unit, and they needed help. Man, I met you, and I was done. When your mother met you, well, we knew you were ours, Pierre. I’m very proud of you.”
The other men just grinned, smiling at the father-son duo.
“You’re a lucky bastard, Robicheaux,” smirked Fish. “My old man wouldn’t give me the time of day. Said I’d end up an alcoholic womanizer like him. I was determined to break that cycle if it killed me.”
“Luckily, it didn’t,” said Conn. “We need you, Fish.”
“Why the name Fish?” asked Frank.
“No reason other than my last name is Fisher,” he smiled. “I swim, but not very well. Winslow is the better swimmer of us, although no one beats Pierre in the water.”
“He learned from a group of Navy SEALs,” smirked Frank.
“Damn, brother. You need to connect us to all your connections. I’m feeling like the unwanted, red-headed stepchild,” said Winslow.
“Play your cards right and you might meet them all,” smirked Pierre.
He let his eyes wander the streets, the driver expertly avoiding debris, destroyed furniture, trash littering the streets beside dead animals. In a small community in the inner part of the city, there were beautiful homes, gated and guarded. Here, it was nothing except abject poverty.
“What does your gut tell you about all this?” asked Frank. “Is it similar to what we experienced when we were here?”
“No one is hanging themselves or acting like zombies. At least not yet. But the day is young,” he frowned. “I’m not sure. I’d like to believe that the kids are somewhere safe, being protected, but I can’t be sure.”
