CHAPTER ELEVEN

"We've moved the Marines to a safer location," said Hex. "Matthew finished the work on the eastern island, and they're out there with guards and weapons. I can't imagine anyone finding them, but if they do, God help them."

"Who do we have out there?" asked Cam.

"Magnus, Noah, Noa, Sam, Merrick, and Tango. I'm rotating Eagle and Hawk as well to keep an eye on the bayou." Cam nodded, the others frowning.

"What about Taylor's widow? Is she taken care of?" asked Luke.

"You know she is. Claudette, Kate, and Sophia Ann went to see her. She has family in Oregon, so they helped her find a house out there. It's all taken care of. Her and the kids are settling in."

"We need to know who was at that raid. Every man or woman who participated is a suspect. AJ and Hiro are working on the list, but once we have it, I want to know everything about every damn person there."

"Hey, guys," said Suzette, walking into the conference room.

"Hi. What's up?" asked Luke.

"I just got a call from someone with the DEA about those drugs they got from the raid. I guess you guys called in a few favors to share information."

"We did," nodded Hex.

"Someone isn't happy about it, but the contact at the DEA thought we should know. The drugs were not opioids. I mean, there were traces of opioids in them, but they were weight loss drugs."

"Weight loss?" frowned Cam.

"Yep. The rage right now are the new GIP and GLP-1 drugs."

"Explain, Aunt Suzette," said Luke.

"The drugs act to reduce the cravings for food. They actually interfere with receptors that tell you you're hungry."

"I don't understand," frowned Cam. "Someone is making these drugs when they're already made?"

"Yes, but they're adding the opioid to it. The drugs by themselves are not addictive. When patients reach their goal weight, they can be titrated off of them and, hopefully, maintain their weight long-term with the proper diet and exercise. The drugs they're making are addictive. It ensures them a constant stream of patients returning to buy the drugs illegally."

"But won't they continue to lose weight?" asked Eric.

"Absolutely. At an unhealthy rate. We can expect to start seeing patients literally wasting away to nothing."

"Shit. This isn't just about opioids. This is about creating addicts," said Luke.

"It plays off of everything that anyone with weight issues, body dysmorphia, or any other mental challenge regarding their size would feed, no pun intended, right into."

"Can they be taken off the drug safely?" asked Hex.

"Maybe," said Suzette, shaking her head. "I just don't know yet. They're sending the data they have to us, and Riley and I will continue to look into it. We're asking Erin to take a look as well. She's got broad knowledge of drugs."

"Thanks, Suzette," said Cam.

"You bet." She turned to leave and then turned back to the room. "Whoever is doing this understands pharmaceuticals. This wasn't by accident. Someone would need tremendous knowledge of opioids, weight loss drugs, understand metabolism and the hormones that signal hunger and food cravings. This is a chemist, doctor, or drug maker. Or all three."

"That's helpful," nodded Eric as she left. "We need that list."

"I have a better idea. Let's go out to the island and talk to our Marines," said Luke. "Get Clark and bring her with us so they know we're friendly."

Finding Clark was easy. All they had to do was find Alistair. Grabbing jackets for the chilly ride to the other island, they headed out to visit her friends. As she stepped off the boat, she saw two of them on the porch, rocking and talking. They both stood, shaking their heads at her.

"I'll be damned. Little Clark is okay," smiled Crockett.

"Well, I will be," she grinned, waving her casted hand. "How are you guys? You look like you went a few rounds with the heavyweight champion."

"No, just a dozen cowards. Thank goodness there were others in the bar that got suspicious. What the fuck is happening, Clark?"

"That's what we're trying to figure out," said Alistair. "I'm Alistair Fitch. Clark's boyfriend."

"Nice to meet you, man. We know who you guys are and what you are. We just don't know why we're here."

"Someone is trying to kill you," said Luke.

"Over opioids?" frowned the second man. Ben Swan was a good Marine. Classic bulldog build, rock-hard face and body and mean as a snake when he needed to be.

"They're not your average opioids," said Luke. "We've learned that they're doing something special with the drugs."

They called the other man out onto the porch and began to explain what Suzette had told them. The men all looked confused, shaking their heads.

"I don't get it. Why send us in to help with that? All of it could have been handled by the DEA," said Swan.

"It does seem suspicious. Was there anyone that looked familiar to you? Someone that, even for a moment, you looked at and thought, ‘I know that face'?" asked Hex.

"Not for me. You know how it is. You're in the moment, just trying to clear the ground. We killed a dozen of them. Maybe more," said Crockett.

"Those two that Taylor put on the chopper were wearing diamonds and a very expensive watch. They weren't just rednecks from the backwoods."

"We want to help," said Swan.

"We want you to stay alive," said Luke. "You may not know it, but you saw someone or something that is making them nervous. They want all of you dead, and we're going to disappoint them."

"What about the agents? DEA was with us, and FBI was part of the planning. Any of them getting shot at or beaten?" asked Crockett.

"No. And isn't that suspicious," frowned Hex.

"Listen, we'll help even from here. We can look at photos, do research, whatever you need. We're happy to help. We just want to get to the men that killed Taylor." Luke nodded at the younger man, frowning.

"Believe me, so do we."