Bobby sighed and lowered his eyes. “That’s why I’m here, Scott? I thought maybe the government people would have cleared that up for me.”
“Well, they didn’t.” Scott crossed his arms. “I hear those were drug lords out there. Cartel people.” He shot Bobby a dirty look. “This is a clean county, Bobby. We don’t need that kind of viciousness and savagery around here.”
Bobby nodded. “If it’s any consolation, they shouldn’t be giving you any trouble.” He cracked a silly grin. “They’re dead.”
“You’re not funny.”
Bobby seemed to shrink in front of his friend. “I wasn’t really trying to be,” he replied softly.
Scott hung his head and sighed heavily. “It’s still my county. I don’t cotton to drug dealers showing up here. Even if they’re dead.” He threw his hands into the air. “And then there’s government people traipsin’ all over the place, shooting people and…” He trailed off, pinching the bridge of his nose. “They didn’t clear a goddam thing with me before they came into my county.” He looked up at Bobby. “I still have folks I have to answer to.”
“I understand.”
“Well? I need answers if I’m going to be able to answer to them.” He crossed his arms and narrowed his gaze at him. “You gonna tell me what the hell happened here or am I gonna have to arrest you for real?”
Bobby nodded solemnly. “Of course, Scott. I’ll tell you everything.”
“Then you might want to get to it.” He reached across the table and clicked the recorder on. “Let’s start at the beginning.”
Dallas, TX
“I tried to take up a collection to bail you out of jail.” Slippy smiled at him. “The whole crew pitched in.” He held a beer out to him. “Sadly, this was all we could afford.”
Bobby smirked at him. “You’re still not funny.”
“Oh, come on. I’m a little bit funny.” Gregg hustled to catch up to him. “They were pretty pissed that you didn’t call them for backup.” He stepped in front of him, forcing him to stop. “Like I told you to.”
Bobby shook his head. “I already told you—”
“Oh, I remember what you said. ‘No dog in the fight,’ ‘We can handle it,’ ‘this here’s my rodeo.’ Yeah, it’s all up here in the old hard drive.” He stuck his finger out and poked Bridger in the chest. “And I told you what they’d say. Guess what? They said it.”
Bobby sighed. “Look, I get it. They’re butthurt.”
“Oh, no. They’re not just butthurt. They’re disappointed that you didn’t think they’d WANT to help.” Gregg shook his head at him. “Laughlin was almost killed out there and—”
“Since when do you care about him?”
Gregg raised a brow at him. “Guess who’s been by his side the entire time he was in the hospital?”
“Not you.”
“No, not me.” He cocked his head to the side and fought not to smile. “Lisa.”
Bobby froze and gave him a confused look. “Is she waiting for the opportune time to inject rat poison into his IV?”
Gregg broke into a toothy grin. “I think she’s sweet on him.”
“The hell.” Bobby huffed and marched past him. “What did they do with Mario?”
Gregg hung his head. “Yeah…about that.”
He froze again and turned slowly. “What?”
Gregg shrugged. “They aren’t saying.” He gave him a knowing look. “Of course, our favorite in-house hacker did his best work to locate the traitor and…get this. He’s still reported as ‘KIA’. There is zero record of his arrest. No chain of custody. Nothing.”
Bobby narrowed his gaze and leaned closer, unsure he heard correctly. “Say that again.”
“You heard me right.” He held his hands up in the air. “As far as the government is concerned, Mario never happened. The cartel didn’t come here and try to kill us.”
“Let me guess…Laughlin was shot in a training exercise?”
Gregg sighed. “There’s no record of him being hurt. Officially, he’s on a month’s paid vacation and he’s sunning his pasty ass in Cabo San Lucas.”
Bobby groaned. “What the hell is going on here?”
“Beats me, brother.” He walked by slowly, maintaining eye contact. “But if I were a paranoid person, I’d be thinking some vast government cover-up.” He formed an evil smile. “Con-spir-a-cy!”
Bobby groaned and stared ahead at the hangar that Baba-Yaga called home. “I guess it’s time to face the music.”
“Oh yeah.” Gregg slipped an arm over his shoulders. “And by the way…DJ is going to be just fine, thanks to my quick lifesaving action.”
He removed Gregg’s arm. “He was peppered with sand and had a concussion.”
Gregg nodded. “Well, yeah. But…he could have gotten a really bad infection. I used Bactine AND triple antibiotic ointment on him. I saved him from a staph infection from hell.”
“You’re a fucking saint,” Bobby muttered.
“Ain’t I, though?”
Two Weeks Later
Langley Virginia
Laughlin set the file down on Phil’s desk. “This is everything.”
Director Sammons picked up the file and flipped through it. “You realize that…none of this happened, right?”
Matt nodded and sucked at his teeth. “Yeah, I heard.”
Phil tucked the file into his desk drawer. “Any idea ‘why’ it never happened?”
Matt shook his head. “Nope.” He leaned heavily on his cane, wincing as the pain shot up to his hip. “But word is that the Sinaloa cartel destroyed whatever was left of the Murillo cartel.”
Phil nodded. “My contact at the DEA says that the Sinaloa is now the biggest Colombian cartel based in Mexico.”
Matt sighed and shook his head. “I think…” He trailed off.
“Do you need some more time off?” Phil asked.
Matt shook his head. “I think I’m going to turn in my retirement package.” He met the man’s surprised gaze. “I’m too old for this shit, Phil.”
He leaned back in his chair and gave him a tight lipped smile. “This decision wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain brunette, would it?”
Matt couldn’t hide the smile. “Yeah, well…maybe.”
Phil stood and extended his hand. “Go home. Take a
