Knowing his mother is in the prison where all of this is going down.
But it won’t be long, and we will be storming those prison walls to get Valerie out.
And then there’s South, sitting quietly on the other side of the room, his eyes staring blankly at nothing, still clearly lost in his own thoughts of losing Bella—the core reason Hurricane and Bayou’s visit here in the first place.
Banging my gavel, I glance out at my brothers. “I think that went as well as can be expected. We have a few big days ahead of us. I need all of you to rest up. Keep up your strength, and lay off the alcohol if you can. We need to be on form for what is in store for us. All right, fuck off, all of you,” I tell them.
They all stand and start heading out, leaving me in the Chapel with Hurricane, Bayou, and Haven.
Letting out a long exhale, I turn to my fellow president. “Hurricane, thank you. For being here. For bringing Bayou. South needs to know he’s not alone in this.”
Hurricane’s expression softens slightly. “Whether I like it or not, the kid’s family, Alpha. What happened to Bella, watchin’ someone you love waste away from a disease like that, knowin’ there’s nothin’ you can do…” He shakes his head. “Mom’s been torn up ’bout it too. But her family back home in NOLA has been missin’ her. She’s missin’ out on seein’ her grandbabies growin’ up. I know she’s been feelin’ guilty for bein’ here instead of there. But South needed her, and she was always gonna be here for him while Bella needed him.”
Bayou nods in agreement. “Motor neuron disease is a cruel fucking thing. But Bella fought it with grace and dignity, and shemade sure South knew he had her blessing to keep fighting. Still, Mom’s homesick. She’s been talking about going back to New Awlins after this is over. She misses feeling needed, misses her life there. Misses us. Fuck, we miss her too.”
“One war at a time,” I reply. “Let’s get through tonight first, but I’m never gonna stop Ingrid and South from going home if they want to.”
Hurricane smiles, and it’s as if I couldn’t have said anything better, then he and Bayou turn to leave. As the room empties, I remain seated, staring at the map spread across the table. Red pins mark each target location—Chicago, Houston, New Orleans, Tampa, Vegas, and LA. Six points of attack against a network that’s been years in the making.
Haven appears beside me, her hand settling on my shoulder. “You okay?”
“No,” I answer honestly. “I’m about to send good men into harm’s way based on intel from an ex-Nest operative and the word of two disgruntled ex-prison guards. If I’m wrong, if this is some elaborate trap, I’m not just killing my own brothers, I’m destroying five other chapters.”
“And if you’re right?”
I look up at her, seeing the bird who’s become my anchor, my conscience, my strength. “Then maybe we save a lot of innocent people from becoming victims. Maybe we stop Javier before he builds something that can’t be torn down.”
She presses a kiss to my temple. “Then trust your instincts. Trust the intelligence. Trust your brothers.”
“I do trust them. That’s what makes this so hard.”
As the clubhouse settles into pre-mission quiet, I remain in the chapel, studying the map and the operational details. Trying hard to ensure I haven’t missed anything. Each pin represents not just a target, but a potential graveyard for brothers I’ve sworn to protect.
As the night progresses, I finally make my way downstairs. The main room is filled with quiet conversations, last-minute gear checks, and the kind of nervous energy that comes before battle. Some brothers are recording messages on their phones. Final words for wives, children, parents who might never see them again.
I catch sight of South in the corner, staring at a photo of Bella. Hurricane and Bayou flank him, their presence a silent reminder that he’s not facing this alone, even if they are leaving first thing in the morning. Ingrid sits nearby with little Louis, the boy’s innocent presence a stark contrast to the violence we’re preparing for.
“Alpha.” Montana approaches, his expression grim. “Warden Garver just sent final confirmation. Guard rotations are confirmed, and Mom’s location is locked in. When we go in, we’ll know exactly where to find her.”
“And the other birds? The ones being held against their will?”
“Nighthawk’s identified at least twelve. Some are compliant due to threats against their families, and others have been drugged into submission. We extract them all, or we extract none.”
I nod. “Make sure the guys understand, civilians first, objectives second. We’re not sacrificing innocents for revenge.”
“Copy that, Pres.”
As I make my rounds, checking in with each brother, the weight of command settles deeper into my bones. These men trust me to lead them into battle and bring them home. The responsibility is crushing and clarifying at the same time.
At midnight, I climb back to the chapel for one final check of communications. Each chapter confirms their preparations are on schedule, their intelligence is current, and their extraction routes are mapped. The seventy-two-hour timeline gives everyone the breathing room they need for final preparations.
I lean back in my chair, staring at the map one final time.
Six targets.
Six chapters.
Dozens of brothers are putting their lives on the line based on my decision to trust intelligence and coordinate the largest operation in Defiance history.
