"The threat against Gemma." Shelby's voice goes careful. "Photographing her at the bar, leaving the message in my hotel room. That's personal escalation designed to get inside your head."
"It worked." Denying it serves no purpose. "Kline threatened my sister. That makes this operational for the Brotherhood, not just your investigation."
I stand, gather the files. "Stay here with Mike on perimeter. Church runs about an hour, then I'll be back with the Brotherhood's decision."
"Cole." She catches my wrist. "What if they vote no?"
"They won't." I lean down, kiss her hard and claiming. "But if they did, you'd still be under my protection. That doesn't change regardless of what the Brotherhood votes."
I grab my kutte from the hallway, settle the leather across my shoulders. Iron Brotherhood VP insignia sits heavy on my chest, reminder of responsibility and authority earned through years of keeping this club legitimate and operational.
Mike's waiting on the porch when I step outside. Exhaustion shows in his posture, but his weapon's still positioned for quick access and his eyes track movement automatically.
"Danny get any sleep?" I ask.
"Yeah. He headed out before dawn. Said he'll be at Church." Mike straightens slightly. "Perimeter's been quiet. No movement, no surveillance. She's secure."
"Keep it that way until I get back."
Minutes pass through empty morning streets on the ride to Ironside Bar. Anchor Bay's still sleeping, ocean wind cutting through the dawn chill. My Brothers' bikes are already parked outside, but fewer than usual. Nash and Tate are with Gemma. Mike's on perimeter at my place. Core leadership's here, though.
Inside, the back room's set up for Church. Will sits at the head of the table, presidential authority clear in his posture. Shaw's to his right in the Sergeant-at-Arms position. Danny's here, fresh despite the overnight shift. A few other Brothers fill the remaining seats.
I take my seat at Will's right in the VP position and set the files on the table.
"Brothers." Will calls the meeting to order. "Church is in session. We're running short roster—Nash and Tate are withGemma, Mike's on perimeter with Monroe. Cole's got intel on the Kline situation. Floor's yours."
I stand, spread the financial records where everyone can see them. "Alan Kline. Former Special Forces, dishonorably discharged, currently running a weapons trafficking network through the Pacific Northwest. He's been using our shop as cover to move modified weapons through the gun show circuit."
I walk them through the evidence methodically—ghost orders in our system, shipping manifests showing deliveries to gun shows where illegal sales happened, financial trail connecting Kline to the same Devils MC network Shelby took down in Nevada.
"We already discussed the threat to Gemma," I continue, my voice dropping into something colder. "He left a message with her photo. Then he sent operatives to grab Shelby in Portland yesterday. That's personal, and it's operational. He's eliminating threats, preparing for something final."
"What's the timeline?" Danny asks.
"Unknown. But the Portland attempt proves he's desperate, which means he's accelerating whatever endgame he's planning." I let that sink in. "We don't have time to wait for federal warrants. We force his hand tonight, or we deal with whatever he's planning on his terms."
"What's the play?" Shaw asks, his voice assessing, strategic.
"We use what he already knows against him. He breached the Forge, photographed the interior, knows it's valuable to us. We make it look vulnerable, draw him out, take him when he moves."
"Bait and trap," Danny observes.
"Yeah." I meet Will's eyes. "But it requires using Gemma as bait. Make it look like she's at The Forge, create an opportunity Kline can't resist. When he moves, we're waiting."
Silence falls over the table. Using the President's wife as bait crosses lines that make even combat veterans uncomfortable.
Will's expression doesn't change. "Continue."
"Gemma's the target that makes Kline move fast and sloppy. He knows threatening her gets inside our heads, makes us more reactive. If he thinks he can grab her, he'll take the shot instead of executing whatever larger plan he's building." I lean forward. "We control the environment, set the trap, make sure she's never actually in danger. Simple decoy setup, Gemma secured elsewhere with armed guards."
"You're asking us to vote on using my woman as bait," Will says quietly.
"I'm asking the Brotherhood to vote on the option that ends Kline before he escalates further. We make it look like Gemma's at the Forge. She stays secured at your place with Nash and Tate—never in actual danger. Kline thinks he's got a shot at her, moves on the Forge, walks into our trap."
Danny breaks the quiet. "Remember that op in Kandahar? When we used Lieutenant Garcia's convoy as bait to draw out that IED cell?"
"Yeah." Shaw's voice is careful. "Worked because we controlled every variable. Overwatch positions, quick reaction force, exfil route planned to the second."
