Free The King of Fear: Part Two: A Garrett Reilly Thriller by Drew Chapman Page B

, N EW J ERSEY , J UNE 19, 5:12 A.M.
    B ingo woke the team at 5:00 a.m. They gathered groggily in the conference room, sitting on the floor, backs up against the white walls. Bingo closed the door and they kept their voices down. Garrett was still asleep two rooms over, and Bingo wanted him to stay asleep.
    “I heard him at three in the morning. He was having a conversation with himself. I think he was hallucinating.”
    “I talk to myself all the time,” Mitty said. “Don’t mean I’m hallucinating.”
    “He was talking to someone. And that someone was not talking back. I listened for like five minutes.”
    “When you went into the room, did he seem strange to you, Bingo?” Alexis asked.
    “He seemed . . .” Bingo considered his words for a moment. “He seemed scared. He seemed high.”
    “Do you know what kind of drugs he might have been taking?” Alexis asked.
    Bingo shook his head no, but then Patmore snapped out the answer: “Percodan.”
    Everyone in the conference room stared at the marine private, their faces suddenly alive with surprise and simmering anger.
    “He said his head hurt,” Patmore said. “He gave me money. So I went and bought them for him.”
    “When?” Celeste asked angrily. “When did you do this?”
    “Yesterday. I checked on Craigslist. There were a bunch of sellers. I walked. Not far. A guy at a corner market. Nice dude. Hindu. Or a Sikh or something. He sold me a bagful.”
    “How could you? You enabled a drug addict to get his fix,” Celeste said. “You’re as bad as the guy selling the drugs.”
    Patmore shrugged. “I don’t believe drugs should be illegal. Just my opinion. People are gonna do what they do. Who am I to stop them?”
    “Did I miss the sign on the door? Is this a fucking Ayn Rand convention?” Celeste said.
    “I just don’t see what the big deal is,” Patmore said. “And I have no idea who you are talking about.”
    “The big deal is that Garrett is high, and he may not be thinking straight,” Alexis said. “Especially if he’s hallucinating. We can’t have that. It’s too dangerous a situation.”
    “Look, Garrett’s always taken drugs,” Mitty said. “The whole time I’ve known him. He used to smoke more pot than anyone I know. Like every day, three, four times a day. Now he’s switched to scrips, which I admit isn’t like ideal or anything, but he’s still doing his job. I just think we should let it go.”
    “That’s nuts, Mitty,” Celeste said. “If you’re so high that you’re hallucinating, you’re not doing your job, and I don’t want to have anything to do with you. And I certainly don’t want you making life-or-death decisions for me or anyone I’m close to.”
    “Don’t be an uptight bitch,” Mitty said.
    “Fuck you. Don’t be a knee-jerk enabler of your drug-addict friend,” Celeste shot back.
    “Okay, okay.” Alexis put her hands out for calm. “Let’s take it down a notch.”
    The team sat quietly, then Alexis nodded to Mitty. “We get that you’re loyal to Garrett, and that’s fine, but we can’t have someone leading us who is completely wasted. I mean, he needs to be able to differentiate between imagination and reality—”
    “You really think he can’t tell the difference between—” Mitty started to say.
    “I’m just saying that we need to be able to trust him,” Alexis said. “This is a murder case. And a possible terror attack. Garrett needs to be clear about what is going on in the world around him. Without that, he’s useless to us.”
    “So what are you suggesting?” Mitty asked. “We abandon him? Walk away?Because listen, Garrett is wanted by the FBI, and I don’t think he did it. And neither do you, right, or you wouldn’t be here. We leave, then he’s on his own, he probably gets nabbed. And whatever we are trying to stop definitely happens.”
    “Valid point,” Alexis said.
    “Fuck yeah, valid,” Mitty said.
    “We should vote on it,” Bingo said just above a