Mark briefly wished April had wanted to hang out for a few hours. It would have been a few less hours with only a whiskey bottle for company.
He knew, of course, drinking wasn't the best coping mechanism. Talking helped, but his fellow agents had problems of their own. Doctors? It felt like they were sitting in judgement and what did they know about how things were in the field?
Sighing, Mark poured another glass and raised it in a silent salute to the dead. Then he drank, promising himself that tonight, he'd stop before emptying the bottle.