Chapter 27
(Pendleton, Oregon, 2 a.m. Thursday, October 2, 2013)
IT WAS A SCRUFFY, ODD collection of men who hunched over the table at Denny’s. Mac looked at his troops: Stan Warren, looking every one of his 40-plus years. His dark suit was wilted and wrinkled, and Mac suspected he would toss that once-white shirt rather than wear it again. Eli Andrews hadn’t changed much—he’d looked scruffy when he started the day and he still looked like a homeless person in his army fatigue jacket, gray T-shirt, and pants that Mac could only call dungarees. Shorty sat between Eli and Timothy Brandt. He had his laptop set up and was arguing with Eli and Timothy about the map on his screen. He looked more put together than anyone else at the table, but then he’d joined up with them after teaching school
