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“But Pres, we don’t know who she is, what she looks like, her name, nothing. I’m going to ask Cilla for more information. This is a crock of shit. Only giving me a tiny piece of information is no fucking good at all,” Hot Rod snarls and heads out of the office.

Retaking my seat, I rub my hands together and think trouble is coming, and we need to be ready. I pick up my cell phone to make a call to Keys when it rings. Looking at the caller, I’m shocked to see it’s Brand from the Satan’s Guardians MC in Montana.

“Yeah, Brand, what can I do for you?” I ask as I take the call.

Brand chuckles, “It’s not what you can do for me. It’s what I can tell you.”

“Okay, speak out.”

Brand starts to speak, and as he gives me information, I sit taller in my seat. “You have a one-percenter coming your way. They have been testing every club they pass. They are an MC made up of misfits, and ingrates, most of whom have seen lock-up time. They are looking for a space without having to put in the work. They’ll take your territory if you give them the opportunity.”

“Let them fuckin’ come,” I snarl. “What are they called?”

“The Iron Fallen MC. Not done a good thing in their lives from what I’m hearing. Most were kicked out of their homes because the family couldn’t keep them out of trouble, pay their debts, or stop the cops from sitting on the front yard.” Brand isn’t embellishing any of this. It’s easy to hear that he is disgusted with the information he has.

“I’ll get my man on finding the information we need. I’ll shore up the fortress,” which I say with a huge grin on my face. “Do you reckon Kennedy fancies coming and helping?”

Brand busts out laughing on his end of the call. “Hardly, and you know Odds would not be up for you getting near his woman.”

I chuckle because I know how protective Odds is with Kennedy, but you can’t help but love a woman who can bust balls and laugh while doing it. “Okay,” I laugh. “Nothing lost by asking.”

“You need to find your own woman, Tracker. But I can see you’d want one with enough sass to hold her own against you.”

“Not many like that, are there, Brand? Shame, because I’d love to find my woman. I’m tired of hookups, and I don’t want my woman to think I’m a man whore.

“Yeah, I know that feeling. I made that mess before I got with Pip, and honestly, it’s not worth it. You’ll find her in the most unlikely of places.” Brand speaks to someone at his end of the call. “Got to go, Tracker. Watch for the fuckers, and be ready. From what I’m hearing, you need to shore up the clubhouse and arm up.”

“Thanks for the call, Brand.” Placing my phone down, I steeple my fingers while I think.

The door opens and Cap walks back into the office, takes a seat but leans forward elbows on his knees, as he stares at me. “My connections tell me this rogue MC is scouting for any weak MC they can find. Then they’ll pounce on it and take it over, after wiping out the brothers of the MC. If they come for us, we can take them out and test out Aspen’s newest acid, Pres.”

“Call church for this evening. Every brother must attend. I want the six from Jeremy’s crew here too. Oh, get Malik and Darius here because they are going to be useful,” I stand from behind the desk and give Cap a huge smirk when he asks how I knew about Malik and Darius as they are only being spoken to at this time about joining us in businesses. I give him nothing, and he sighs when he sees the look on my face.

Later that evening, I take my place at the head of church and look around at every brother, including the six from Jeremy’s crew. Malik and Darius are standing on one side of the room, right beside the prospects who are looking nervous as they are usually not allowed in church meetings.

“Settle down, brothers.” I wait until the room quiets, then I begin. “We have an issue regarding a one-percent club that is heading our way. They are testing every MC they come across to see if the club is weak enough to be overrun, taken over, or whatever else you want to call it.”

The room roars with anger, and I grit my teeth, knowing I have every one of the brothers on side to do what is needed if this fuckin’ club comes for us.

“Who is it, Pres?” Joker asks while looking like he wants to kill someone.

“The Iron Fallen MC.” I wait for any response to that, and as everyone is looking at each other for any recognition, I chuckle at the lack of response. “Yeah, your reaction is the same as mine. Never heard of them,” I state while chuckling.

“I have!”

The entire church turns as one and looks at Darius. He holds his position and is in a typical soldier's ‘at ease.’

“You’ve heard of them?” I ask, leaning forward with my elbows and forearms on the table.

“I have heard of them. A brother who I bunked with spoke to me last week. He’s a brother now in an MC in Nebraska. He was telling me they had a skirmish with a rogue MC. That was what he called them. They killed six of them before they turned tail and ran. They were heading for Colorado. But let’s be honest, they could easily decide to head our way.” Darius says no more, and we all mull over the small amount of information he has given.

Cap speaks before I can ask another question. “How many were there in this rogue MC?”

Darius responds again, with no embellishment. “He said he would guess at thirty or a few less.”

“Did he say anything that would help us prepare?” Rides asks.

Darius looks at Rides, then at me. “He said think of getting out every weapon I had, load them up and when needed to fire everything I could at them. In other words, Pres. You need to arm the fence, the roof, the road towards the compound, and prepare your local cops for what’s about to hit.”