Chapter Eleven #2
“That was Doc,” Venom announced. “They got what they needed -- proof connecting Wallace and Harmon directly to the trafficking ring. Along with a bunch of financial shit that shows how bad the corruption is.”
The room went completely still, the only sound the soft creak of leather as men shifted in their seats.
“And the murder of Nova’s parents,” Venom added. “It wasn’t an accident. Wallace confessed as much. Mary-Jane Treemont got too close to exposing their operation.”
“Jesus Christ,” someone whispered from down the table.
I leaned forward, processing the implications. “Wallace. The deputy chief.” My voice came out harder than I intended. “How the fuck is he pulling all this off without us knowing? Shit, Venom. Your son is part of the Swift Angels. At the very least, shouldn’t they be aware of this clusterfuck?”
Venom nodded grimly. “Should be. And maybe they are, but I think if they had a clue, they’d have contacted us about it. Doc says he and Nova got bank records, police reports that were buried, judge’s orders to seal cases -- everything. Proof that can’t be denied or buried.”
Long ago, this club had cleaned up the corruption in our town. But it looked like it had seeped in from the surrounding areas again.
“Where are they now?” I demanded.
“Safe house. Wouldn’t say which one.” Venom’s gaze met mine, his expression hardening. “Wallace already took a shot at Doc, winged him in the arm. They need extraction within twenty-four hours, before these bastards realize exactly what they’ve taken.”
Tank was on his feet immediately. “I’ll go. Get a team together now.”
I raised my hand for silence, my mind racing through scenarios, weighing risks against obligations. If we’d had any idea of what had been going on from the start, we’d have cleaned it up. Her parents would still be alive, because there wouldn’t have been a damn thing to investigate.
Saint leaned in. “This means, with the exception of the Swift Angels, every badge becomes a potential enemy until we resolve this shit. We need to be smart about how we play this.”
He was right to a point. There was one I knew we could count on.
Chief Daniels. He’d helped us in the past, and I had no doubt he’d do so again.
Not to mention the Swift Angels. We’d worked with them in the not-so-distant past. But I didn’t want to pull them into this if I could avoid it.
The Swift Angels had a code they upheld, and it didn’t mesh well with ours.
I scanned the faces around the table. The division from earlier had vanished, replaced by a unified sense of purpose.
“Doc says they’ve got documentation on at least thirty girls moved through our territory in the past year,” Venom continued. “Young ones. Sixteen, seventeen. Some younger.”
A muscle jumped in Tempest’s jaw, his massive hands curling into fists on the table. “Motherfuckers. How they hell did they find all this when Wire and Atlas are still trying to piece shit together?”
“My best guess? Most of it is a literal paper trail,” Venom said.
“Or more like Nova knew her mom better than anyone and could unravel her notes faster than the club,” Tank said.
Even though we’d been looking into this already, knowing such young girls were involved made this more personal for every brother in this club. We had families, had raised daughters in this town. And we’d bled to make sure shit like this didn’t happen in our territory.
“We go in smart, not loud,” Tempest said after a moment, his gaze finding mine across the table. “Get our people and the evidence out clean. Then decide how to burn these fuckers to the ground.”
This meant war. Not just with Wallace and his dirty cops, but with judges, politicians, anyone tied to the rot. The club had faced threats before, and it wouldn’t be the first time we went up against enemies who could twist the entire system against us.
Some sins we refused to tolerate -- never in our territory, never anywhere.
“Venom, take four men. Your pick. Bring our people home -- Doc, Nova, and every scrap of evidence they’ve collected.
Call him once you’re away from the compound.
See if he’ll divulge his location.” I looked around the table, making sure every brother heard my next words.
“The rest of us prepare. Once that evidence is secure, we’ll decide exactly how to respond. ”
Venom nodded, already mentally selecting his team. “What about the law? If they’re as deep in this as Doc says --”
“Fuck ’em,” I cut him off. “We handle our own first. Justice comes later. But I have a feeling, with Nova involved, we’ll have to at least hand everything over to someone in charge, let the system attempt to do its damn job.”
The meeting broke up with a new sense of purpose, brothers moving with the focused energy of men preparing for battle. As we filed out of Church, the distant rumble of motorcycles being fired up echoed through the clubhouse -- Venom wasting no time getting his rescue party assembled.
I hung back, letting the others move ahead while I took a moment alone in the chapel.
My fingers traced the worn wood of the reaper carved into our table, feeling the ridges and valleys worn smooth by decades of similar crises, similar decisions.
Doc had been right to pursue this, regardless of his methods.
Sure, he’d done it for Nova, but he’d found more evidence than we’d had until now.
The real battle was just beginning. With the things Doc had discovered, we were about to declare war on the very institutions that held power in this county.
The club had faced many enemies over the years, but I never relished going up against people who could sign warrants, dispatch SWAT teams, or sentence our brothers to decades behind bars.
I stepped out of Church into the sounds of preparation filling the clubhouse. Whatever came next, we would face it together. That was what this patch meant. That was what brotherhood demanded.
And God help anyone who stood in our way.