“Are you nuts? I don’t know you. I have no clue who you are or if you’re working with that dickhead.”
“Jarhead,” smirked Mitchell, “but that’s close for Bora.”
“God, you know his name.”
“Everyone knows his name. He makes sure of it,” said Brooks. “Not to sound corny but if you want to live, come with us.”
“That is corny,” she said with a smirk but I don’t think I have a choice.
He backed up, allowing her to step from her little Corolla. She was taller than she first appeared, nearly five-ten if he had to guess. She had long red hair that reminded him of his mother’s hair. Her eyes were big, soft brown orbs, swollen from crying.
And in spite of attempts at not looking, he couldn’t help it. Her body was that of a fucking goddess.
“I’m Brooks Jordan. That’s my brother, Mitchell.”
“Jordan?” she repeated. “They were talking about you. One of you.”
“What did they say?” asked Mitchell.
“Just that they needed to find you and find out what you heard. What did you hear?”
“First, who are you and how are you caught up with them?” asked Brooks.
“Lennon. Lennon McCartney.” The brothers looked at her in disbelief. “I know, I know. I swear that’s my name. I’m a reporter for the online magazine,Among Us.” Mitchell looked at Brooks, shaking his head.
“Oh fuck.”
CHAPTER FIVE
“So, let me get this straight. Your editor thought it would be wise for you to chase down this story that he heard from someone about trained military men killing, looting, stealing, and torturing locals in Bolivia and you gladly did it?” frowned Brooks.
“Not gladly. I did it because he promised me a promotion and raise. I’ve been working at the magazine for ten years now and I’m still doing nothing except feel good stories.”
“Newsflash, lady. Feel good stories don’t get you killed,” said Brooks.
“Hey! I don’t need your damn judgment. I’m terrified. I didn’t want to do this but he insisted. I couldn’t afford to lose my job. I don’t get to surf all day long and buy big, huge beach front homes and fancy cars.” Mitchell raised a brow at the woman, laughing. “Is that funny?”
“Well, kind of,” smirked Mitchell. “We’re not surfers, other than for fun. We’re Navy SEALs.”
“Oh, God,” she whispered. She started to stand but Brooks put a hand at her shoulder.
“We’re not with them. We’re actually retiring in just two days.”
“You’re so young. How can you afford to retire and afford all of this?” she asked suspiciously.
“I don’t know you well enough to share my portfolio, Lennon but I can assure you we’re able to retire. Our family owns a business that we’ll be joining. Listen, none of that matters. What matters is that I heard Bora talking about coming for you and I think he saw me, which is why you heard him mention my name.
“The problem is he thought Mitchell was me and I think he tried to run him over. I can’t allow that to happen, so I have to figure out what the fuck he actually did in Bolivia.”
“I don’t know it all. Not yet. I’ve spoken to two people who gave me vague accounts of what their relatives said happened. When I went back to speak with them again, they were gone.”
“Gone? Like gone back to Bolivia?” asked Brooks.
“Gone, like no one would admit to knowing they even existed. Like I said, I’ve tried to call my editor for three days in a row and I get no answer on his cell phone.”
“What about his office?” asked Brooks.
“We’re an online magazine trying to compete with major publishing houses. We don’t have a brick-and-mortar business. Everyone works from home, including him.”
