I head toward King's office, forcing my mind to shift gears. Tonight isn't about Claire or me or whatever unexpected connection is forming between us. Tonight is about protecting the club, ending the Eagles' threat once and for all.
Tank is waiting outside King's door, his stoic expression giving nothing away.
"You good?" he asks as I approach.
"Yeah. Just checking on our guest."
He gives me a measured look but doesn't comment. We both know I spent longer with Claire than strictly necessary for a security update.
Inside, King sits behind his desk, maps and building schematics spread out before him. Luna stands beside him, her hand resting lightly on his shoulder.
Beast, Tank, Steel, Torch, and the prospects are already gathered, waiting for instructions. I take my place against the wall, mentally transitioning from Rage the man to Rage the soldier. This is what I know—strategy, tactics, the brutal clarity of combat.
"Everyone clear on positions?" King asks without preamble.
We nod. We've been over the plan repeatedly since church ended—who goes where, who covers what angle, our defensive perimeter and fall-back positions.
"Steel, report from Cherry Street," King commands.
Steel steps forward. "Increased activity in the last hour. It looks like they're planning to surround the compound."
"As expected," King says with cold satisfaction. "They think they're setting the trap."
"What about Vulture?" I ask. "Any sign of him yet?"
Steel shakes his head. "Not personally. But one of the vans had Millfield plates. They could be bringing him in."
"He'll want to be here for this," Tank says. "It's too personal for him to sit out."
King nods in agreement. "Which is why we need to be ready for anything. Vulture's reckless when he's emotional. If things go south for them, he might try something desperate."
"Like what?" Beast asks.
"Like a suicide run," King says bluntly. "He's been waiting five years to avenge his brother. If he sees that slipping away, he might decide to take as many of us with him as he can."
The room falls silent as we absorb this. Suicide tactics are rare in club warfare. Most men want to live to fight another day. But Vulture's obsession with avenging Talon has only grown over the years, fed by hatred and an increasingly unstable personality.
"What about the women?" Luna asks, her calm voice cutting through the tension. "What time do you want us in the safe room?"
"Five-thirty," King says immediately. "Before sunset. I want you all secured well before the Eagles make their move."
Luna nods, accepting his decision without argument. She understands the gravity of the situation, knows that King needs to focus on the fight without worrying about her safety.
"What about Jenny?" King asks.
Beast nods. "She's getting the safe room prepared now. Extra water, food, medical supplies." His eyes meet mine briefly. "First aid kit for Claire's ribs, too."
I nod my thanks. It's a small detail, but it matters. The acknowledgment that Claire's injuries need ongoing care even during a crisis.
King turns to Luna. "You have access to the cameras from inside?"
"Yes. All external feeds, plus the main internal areas."
"Good. You'll be our eyes. If you spot something we miss, use the comms system. Tank, Beast, and I will have earpieces."
Luna's role is crucial. She'll monitor the new security feeds from inside the safe room, providing real-time intelligence as the attack unfolds.
"Any questions?" King asks, surveying the room.
