33.
Turtle squeezes into a chair first. Bingo sits next.
Heoh leans over his desk. “She’s coming on board.”
“What?” Bingo shouts.
“You two will train her.”
Turtle sinks his face into his big hands.
There’s the answer to Milly’s prior question — not that she heard it.
Later that night, at a dingy tavern with dozens of old clocks mounted on its walls, a stack of shot glasses sits in front of Turtle. The door opens.
“Thanks for coming, Sarge,” Bingo says. “Someone’s gotta tell him to slow down.” He points at Turtle.
Sarge shakes his head. “You can’t tell another man how to drink. You can only decide if you’ll buy him one.”
The bartender arrives to bus the empties. Turtle hugs the glasses closer.
Bingo slides onto the next stool. “How’s your knee, buddy?”
“Knee fine,” Turtle slurs.
The bartender slides a coaster onto the bar top.
Sarge taps it. “Club soda with a lime.”
Bingo grimaces. “Really?”
“Beer.” Sarge wiggles two fingers.
“Did I just tell you how to drink?”
Sarge chuckles as he sits.
Bingo grins. “Or did you decide to buy me one?”
“Touché.”
“What do you think about this girl, Sarge?”
“Above my pay grade.”
“That all?”
“I’m trying not to think about it.”