Chapter 12 #2
I pull out the building schematics, spread them across the table.
"Shaw, you're primary on interior defense with whoever's not on guard rotation.
Nash and Tate stay with Gemma at Will's place—they're already positioned and know her security needs.
Danny and Mike, you coordinate exterior approach monitoring once Mike's relieved from perimeter duty. "
"What about the decoy?" Shaw asks.
"Keep it simple. I'll wire timed lights on the second floor—office and storage areas where Gemma would actually be.
Create shadows, suggest movement without requiring anyone inside.
Kline's people will be watching from a distance before they commit.
Basic setup, but effective enough to draw them in. "
"You can get that done by tonight?" Danny asks.
"I'll have it ready." I tap the schematics. "The Forge already has security cameras. I'll position them to cover approaches, monitor from my truck."
Will stands, moves to the corner where our kuttes hang when we're in Church. He lifts his carefully, runs his hand over the patches and colors with deliberate reverence. "Before we adjourn, I want to remind everyone what we're protecting here."
He holds up his kutte. "These colors represent everything we built together. Every operation we survived, every Brother we lost, every choice we made to stay clean and legitimate. We wear these with pride because we earned them."
Will hangs his kutte back carefully. One by one, other Brothers stand and do the same—Shaw touching his Sergeant-at-Arms patch, Danny the Iron Brotherhood insignia. Each Brother takes a moment before hanging their colors with the respect they've earned.
I'm last. I lift my kutte, feel the weight of the VP patch. Years of keeping this club operational and legitimate, responsibility that comes with authority, trust these men place in my decisions.
I hang it carefully beside Will's.
Shaw breaks the silence. "After we hang colors, we check weapons. Make sure everyone's got the right loadout for close quarters."
"Yeah. We do that before positioning tonight."
When we're all seated again, I continue. "Questions?"
Danny raises his hand. "What happens if this goes sideways?"
"Then we adapt and eliminate the threat anyway." I hold his gaze. "But it won't go sideways. We control the environment, we've got training, and we're protecting our own."
Silence settles over the table. Brothers process the plan, run through their own mental assessments. Nobody else raises concerns.
"Church is adjourned." Will's voice carries authority. "Brothers, prepare for operations. Cole has command. Follow his orders, watch each other's backs, bring everyone home safe."
Brothers stand, moving with purpose. I catch Will's arm before he leaves.
"Gemma's secured with Nash and Tate until this is over. They're solid."
"I know." Will's expression is grim. "End this today, Cole. However it needs to end."
Riding back to my place gives me time to run through the setup in my head—timer switches, camera positions, fields of fire. Mechanics are straightforward. Variables are what keep operatives awake at night.
Shelby's waiting on the porch with Mike when I pull into the driveway, tension clear in her posture.
"Well?" she asks.
"The Brotherhood voted to authorize the operation. We're using the Forge as bait, setting a trap for Kline." I motion her inside, away from Mike's hearing. "You need to coordinate ATF backup as outer perimeter. Federal presence gives us legal cover if this goes sideways."
"What's the timeline?"
"Operational by late afternoon. I need you to brief your people on positioning, communication protocols, rules of engagement." I pull her close, hand fisting in her hair. "And you coordinate from a distance. You're not on site when Kline's people move."
"Cole—"
"Not negotiable." I cut her off. "You coordinate from outer perimeter, monitor your people, call in federal response if needed. But you're too valuable a target, and I can't run this operation if I'm worried about protecting you."
She wants to argue. I can see it in her eyes. But she's smart enough to recognize mission reality.
"Okay," she says finally. "I'll coordinate from the perimeter."
"Good." I kiss her, hard and possessive. "Now call your people and get them positioned. I've got to wire the Forge for the trap."
Shelby makes her coordination calls while I grab my electrical tools from the garage.
By the time I'm loading the truck, she's giving me a quick kiss goodbye and heading out with the ATF to meet up with her team.
Mike's relief shows up to take over perimeter duty, freeing Mike to join the operation.
Shaw meets me at the Forge an hour later, and we spend the afternoon installing timer switches on the existing electrical system. Simple work—lights programmed to go on and off in different rooms, creating the illusion of someone moving through the building.
Solder and wire insulation fill the Forge's interior with familiar scents from years of rewiring the Brotherhood's buildings.
I've done this enough that the routine becomes meditative.
Connect the timer, test the circuit, verify the interval.
Second floor office light stays on for several minutes, then goes off.
Storage area light comes on. Different office cycles through.
Pattern suggests natural movement—Gemma doing inventory work upstairs.
"It's not very sophisticated," Shaw observes.
"Doesn't need to be. Kline's people watch from a distance, see lights going on and off, see the silhouette. That's enough to confirm the target before they commit." I finish wiring the last timer, test the sequence. "Once they're committed to entry, they discover the trap."
When the setup's complete I test the camera feeds from my truck—existing security system at the Forge gives decent coverage of approaches. Not military-grade surveillance, but functional for what we need.
Brothers gather in the back parking lot before moving to positions. Shaw checks his weapon, extra magazines lined up on his bike seat. Danny's doing the same with his sidearm, spare mags already loaded. Each Brother methodically checks their gear, verifies ammunition counts.
"Like Iraq," Shaw says, checking his magazine springs. "Every damn time."
Danny nods. "Kept us alive."
Weight of preparation settles over the group. Quiet now, minimal talking. Just the sounds of weapons being verified, gear being positioned, men running through mental checklists they've run a thousand times before.
And then we're positioned. Gemma remains secured at Will's place with Nash and Tate.
Shaw and a couple other Brothers take positions inside the Forge, concealed but ready.
Danny and Mike coordinate exterior approach monitoring from concealed positions.
Timed lights begin their programmed sequence on the second floor—office, then storage area, then back to office, creating patterns of movement that suggest Gemma working upstairs.
I'm in my truck monitoring camera feeds. My cell phone's ready for communication—I've got Shaw and Danny's numbers pulled up, and Shelby’s ATF frequency coordinated separately.
Light glows in the second-floor windows as planned, creating the illusion of occupancy. From my position in the truck, even knowing it's empty, the effect is convincing.
Darkness settles over Anchor Bay. Ocean wind rattles my truck, carries the salt smell of the bay. The Forge sits quiet, lights continuing their programmed dance.
Waiting begins.
Nothing moves for hours. I watch the camera feeds, check my phone for updates from Shelby's position. Her last text:
ATF units report clear approaches.
Waiting continues. Different from combat, this kind. In combat, adrenaline carries you through. In surveillance, in setup, you fight exhaustion and the thousand small doubts that creep in during the quiet.
My phone vibrates. Text from Danny:
Movement north access road. Dark SUV.
I pull up the camera feed. SUV moves slowly, cautiously. Following a reconnaissance pattern. Professional execution.
Another text from Danny:
Multiple occupants. Armed.
Several armed men, then. More than the Portland team had been.
I text back:
Hold position. Let them commit.
SUV circles the parking lot once. I watch through the camera as it stops, occupants clearly visible assessing the building. Timed lights continue their pattern on the second floor. Office light goes dark, storage area light comes on. Shadows shift across the upstairs windows.
Then two more vehicles appear on my screen. Another SUV approaches from the south. A sedan from the east.
I text Danny and Mike simultaneously:
Multiple vehicles. Count hostiles.
Danny's response comes through:
Too many. Way more than expected.
We’re outgunned. Handful of Brothers I've got positioned against whatever force Kline just deployed.
I call Shelby. She answers immediately. "Talk to me."
"Multiple hostiles converging on the Forge. You need to move your people in now. We're outgunned."
"Copy. ATF moving to support positions." I hear her coordinating on another line. "Cole, if they breach with that many—"
"I know." I watch the vehicles take positions surrounding the building. Armed men exit with precision, forming assault positions around the Forge's perimeter.
Kline sent an army, not a grab team, and we walked right into his trap.