Page 44 of Spook’s Honor

His gaze shifts to me. “Set up teams.”

His mouth twists, fury etched into every hard line of his face, and when he speaks again, he practically grinds the words out between clenched teeth. “And don’t fucking leave me out. I’m going whether you like it or not.”

“Didn’t expect anything else. Give me a few hours. You speak to Foundry and I’ll work out a plan.”

He gives me a sharp nod. “Church dismissed. Meet back here in three hours. Beard, you, and Stout give Carnage a hand with clean-up. Muppet’s out of action for a few days, and Giggles is on the gate.”

“No problem, Pres,” Beard replies as he and Stout get to their feet.

Maverick taps the disc, officially ending Church, and the brothers rise, filtering out of the room.

Once we’re alone, he turns to me. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m taking Rowena with me to Florida. We’ll work cleaner and faster as a two-man team. You take five others to Canada—that’s two per house, and if you need more bodies, I’m sure Foundry and his crew will be more than happy to blow shit up with you.” I drag a hand over my mouth, running through every possible scenario and assigning people where they’d be most useful. “Axle and Roman stay here with the Prospects. Jake too.”

Maverick nods. “Agreed. Finalise your plans and we’ll let the brothers know.”

Three hours later, we meet and go over what I planned. We’ll have to meet again, and I need to fill Rowena in.

Making use of our allies, I reach out to Chief, President of the Saint’s MC in Jacksonville and ask for his help. Once I explain why, he’s onboard and assures me he’ll have his guys sit on the property and run surveillance until Rowena and I get there.

“Thanks, man. Appreciate it,” I tell him.

“You need any supplies?” Chief asks.

“Nah, man, we’re good. We’ll have enough on us. If you can confirm he’s definitely there, I’d appreciate it. Our intel shows that he is, but I’d prefer visual confirmation.”

“Leave it with us. I’ll be in touch.”

He ends the call, and I go back to planning.

Two hours later, my phone beeps with a message.

C JackSaints: Confirmed.

Me: Appreciate you, brother.

We’ll move in twenty-four hours. It gives Mulally time to get comfortable, to think we don’t know a damn thing.

Foundry’s more than happy to help the brothers heading to Canada. If I didn’t know better, I’d say the man was practically salivating at the chance to get in on the action.

When I’m happy everyone knows what they’re doing, only then do we finish.

It’s nearly three in the morning when I walk up my porch to my door only to be met with a gun in my face.

“Fuck. Sorry, brother,” Roman says. I shake my head and hold up my hand. “No need to apologise, brother. I meant to message you that I was coming back. It slipped my mind.” I look around the living room. There’s a blanket covered lump on the couch and one on the floor. Axle is in the recliner wide-awake, Angel asleep on his lap. He’s armed too. He puts the gun he’d had in his hand on the table next to him.

Concerned, I ask, “Everything okay here?”

“It’s all good.” Roman replies. Siera comes down the stairs, and I’m not surprised to see she’s armed.

Seeing it’s me, she lowers her weapon and says, “Honor’s asleep. I’ve just been to check on the boys to make sure their fevers haven’t returned, but they're fine.”

Relief floods me, and my shoulders slump with exhaustion. “Thank you, Siera.”

She pats my arm, “No thanks necessary. This is what family does. We band together when we need to. Go to bed, we’re on watch down here. We can catch up on sleep tomorrow.”

She doesn’t have to tell me twice. I walk up the stairs, checking on the boys first. Running my hand gently over their heads, I give thanks to whoever is listening that they’re okay. That they have a mother that will do anything to protect them, including taking on armed men by herself and throwing herself out of a fucking, moving vehicle.