Six times, he had called. Six. Whatever the fuck Pete was doing, he needed to stop and answer the goddamn phone.
Garrus didn't often resort to 'flip the shit' mode. Cool, collected, with that voice that was edged with hissing anger sometimes, sure. But panic swelled, his heart raced, and after Cindy being completely MIA for the plans they'd made (and she was hardly ever late; she would have called, would have texted), it made Garrus assume the worse. Even if she was apparently some sort of immortal human being, there were some things worse than death sometimes.
He'd call one person for now. One. Keep the situation controlled. Maybe it would only take two people, maybe they'd handle this tonight, but he wasn't going to ruin everyone's night quite yet. Shepard was with Regina (the dreams had been sucking on their end, she needed some downtime), he'd gone to Laura first on many occasions, Neal was with Ruby at the hospital.
So Pete it was. If he would answer his stupid phone. Do people in England not know how to answer a phone?