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He slams the door open, causing Miriam to jump out of Eagle-eye's lap. Her face is flushed and the glare Prez sends us could fucking disintegrate us on the spot. “This better be fucking good,” he says in the most dangerous version of his grinding voice. I bet he and Miriam don't get a lot of alone time with an almost one-year-old in their life. I'd be pissed too.
“Mila's in danger,” Mack snaps as he waves me in. I close the door behind us. Fuck, what's happening?
“So why are you in here and not running to her fucking rescue? You don't need my permission for that. Where's Scrapper?”
“With Mila. Bull and Mad Dog are there, too, but we need club support. This is bigger than that.”
“Need more than that? Mack, what's going on? What exactly do you need?”
Mack nods. “Getting there. Mila's at the Channel 7 studios getting ready to break the story. We asked Hellfire and his boys to track down the goons that are working with the judge so we can send a little thank you card, you know? They attacked us practically on our own turf, knowing we were Eagles.”
Eagle-eye nods. “I’m with you so far.”
“Well, he called us again. Apparently a call for people went out on the bounty boards, rush offer worth a lot of fucking cash. The Sons thought it sounded suspicious so they sniffed at it and found out the target is the studio. We’ve got to get there before who the fuck knows shows up. Someone's gotten the word out, and we're gonna need a lot more than us three to make sure we get her out safe.”
Eagle-eye nods thoughtfully. “Alright, we're gonna have to?—”
“Faith's there too,” I add. Not that Prez isn't in either way, but knowing that his daughter's in trouble too can't hurt.
“Motherfucker,” he growls. “What do we need?”
“Everyone able-bodied,” Mack says. “This is gonna be a fucking mess. We should get some eyes on Judge Kincaid too. Bet Snark can figure out where he is.”
Eagle-eye nods. “Good thinking. I'll call in the officers. Start gathering any boys you find. Church in the common room in ten fucking minutes.” He hits a button, and a quick alarm blasts through the compound.
Mack and I exchange worried glances. Every minute before we can mount up and get to the studio feels like too damn much. Whatever's fucking happening, we need to be there for it. Fuck, it might have already started. As we jog down to the common room, brothers are already pouring in. Once the Eagles mobilize, it happens fast. I pull out my phone and tap on Mila.
It rings and rings and fucking rings.
I switch to Scrapper. Same fucking thing. Shit, they can't be down already. I try Bull, and after three beeps, there's his voice on the other end. I flip him to speaker. “Get down here,” he starts. “We're barricaded in, and Scrapper dropped one, but these fuckers are real fucking bad at taking no for an answer.”
Fuck.
“Club's coming, brother. Just hang on. And fucking… keep Mila safe.”
“Keeping everyone safe. Just get the fuck down here.” There's a loud crack in the background, like a gunshot.
“Stay in cover. Be there as fast as we can. All of us.”
“Sounds like a fucking date.” The phone goes silent.
Mack growls like a fucking caged animal. “I'm gonna kill every single one of those fuckers. Blow their fucking brains out.” Scrapper's usually the one with the quick temper, but when Mack gets angry, he gets real fucking angry.
Church is quick business. Everyone there heard the phone call. Those who come in last get filled in immediately. Snark confirms from house security footage that Judge Kincaid is home. Eagle-eye delegates the Cleanup Crew and the Misfits to keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn't leave. They're out the door before he has time to draw breath for the next command.
A command that is simply, “Mount up. The Screaming Eagles ride.”
33
MILA
Another explosion goes off, and I scream again, hiding behind some desks that Mad Dog threw on their sides to act as shields for us. What looks like really expensive computer equipment crashes across the floor, but we've got bigger things to worry about. Why can’t we catch a single break?
Faith is next to me, with a hand on my head to force me down. “Don't expose yourself. That door isn't going to hold forever.”
“I know. Keeping low. Worry about yourself instead of babysitting me. If you get hurt because of me…”
“I'll be fine. I've lived with bikers almost my whole life.”
