Page 43 of Spook’s Honor

There’s none of the usual chatter. The brothers are silent as they wait, faces grim, shoulders rigid, tension hanging thick in the room, anger simmering just beneath the surface.

“Carnage,” Maverick nods. “Fill Spook in.”

Carnage stands, leaning his bloody hands on the table, his eyes dark with anger, voice hard as steel. “They work for Mulally. They were sent when he first made contact. They were told to grab either Angel or Honor if they could. He’s not the one that was in charge when Angel’s father worked for them.” His eyes go cold when he asks, “Did you know that Angel’s mom was the daughter of the Boss?”

Shock ripples through the room. “What the fuck?” I growl.

Carnage nods. “The guy was pretty talkative once I had his balls in my vice and added electric current. He was young when it all went down, but he knew a lot. Guess it wasn’t just Angel’s father turning on them that pissed them off. Angel’s mother was his daughter from his first wife who died in a car bomb. No children from his second marriage.”

“Fuck,” I hiss. “What else?”

“Mulally is his son. Different woman… a mistress. He didn’t share the same name as the father. Which is why we didn’t find a connection. He’s ten years younger than his sister… Angel’s mom. The Boss died four months ago, but not before letting it slip that there were more heirs. Not sure how he found out about Honor. From what I understand Milo Mulally is psychotic and not well liked. There's a push to move him out, but it’s a slow process. He knows it. For some reason, he has it in his head that it’s his niece. Like I said, he’s not firing on all cylinders.”

The room is silent as we digest this news.

Anger is thick in my voice when I finally speak. “I don’t fucking care. He went after my woman and sons. He’s a dead man. Now the club doesn’t need to be involved. I can handle this myself…”

My tirade is interrupted by angry voices until Maverick bangs on the plough disc and gets order.

He’s fuming as he spits out, “You don’t fucking handle anything yourself. We’re a fucking brotherhood for a reason. We’re your brothers.” His eyes bore into mine. “We make a plan, and then we move. Don’t worry brother, he'll get his. That I can promise you. Nobody fucks with our family and gets away with it.”

Emotion fills me. Pride, thankfulness, gratitude, and the overwhelming love I have for my brothers. This is what I missed when I was in the CIA. The sense of brotherhood and never handling situations alone.

Swallowing hard, I nod. “Thank you. Let’s make a plan. I don’t care how, but I want his organisation wiped out. But he’s mine. Nobody else touches him.”

The brothers agree to my request. I turn my attention back to Carnage. “Is the guy dead?”

Carnage winces. “Yeah, brother, sorry. I got a little carried away. But I promise I got all I could out of him.”

I’m disappointed that I won’t get my five minutes with him, but if Carnage said he got everything he could out of him, I believe him. “Okay, what intel do we have. Mamba?” I turn to our tech guy.

Mamba opens his laptop. “Someone get the screen up, so I can share.”

Petit gets up and pulls down the screen we use when we need the room to see information.

“Here’s what I found out with the new information that Maverick gave me while they were working the prick over. Milo Mulally. Fifty-Six, single, no children that I could find. Only heir to the Irish Mafia in Vancouver. They’re not a huge organisation, but big enough. Here’s all the addresses I could find for him. Three in Canada and one in Florida.”

I study the addresses. “We’ll have to split up to find him,” I murmured.

Mamba shakes his head. “No need. He’s in Florida. I got a hit on his face from two days ago.”

Shocked I turn to him, “Fuck Mamba, where did you get that tech from?”

Mamba grins. “Don’t ask me that, VP. I’d rather not lie.”

I wave my hand. “Don’t care, grateful though.”

“Do we know what he does for money?” Maverick asks.

Mamba grimaces. “He’s got a few legitimate businesses, but his organisation makes most of their money from trafficking, prostitution, and drugs.”

Coldness seeps through me. I don’t have to be a genius to know what he would have done if he’d got his hands on Honor.

Turning to Maverick I ask, “What do you think?”

Maverick’s eyes are cold when he replies. “I think we hit every one of his businesses, then his houses, and clean him out.”

He glances around at the brothers. “I’ll speak to Foundry at Kings of Anarchy in British Columbia. See if he’s willing to supply us with what we need to take this fucker down.”