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Russ shoved his phone back in his pocket. “Unknown number.”
“You get many phone calls from unknown numbers?” I asked.
Russ glanced at me. “Only in the past four hours. They’re trying to figure out where I am.”
“So what do we do now?” I asked. “It’s not like we can go to the police with all of this.”
Russ shook his head. “Gibbs would be all over this to shut it down before anyone got word on it. The guy is that good.”
“Just makes you all warm and fuzzy inside knowing these are the type of people helping to run our state and country,” Cue Ball mused.
“Do you have any idea what Boone and Gibbs are up to now?” Yarder asked.
Russ shook his head. “I have been removed from all access to Boone, and my secretary called me on the way over to tell me that a load of cases was dumped on my desk that I need to make my priority.”
“Why?” Dove asked.
“Bury me under paperwork so I can’t speak to anyone.” Russ looked at Yarder. “But they are still going to come after you guys. Gibbs putting away the Kilmore gang is good; taking down the Iron Fiends will be the cherry on top.”
“We’re fucking nobody!” Compass hollered. “We do charity runs for kids, run a garage, and are on some dumb reality TV show.”
“That last one is the reason why you’re the target. In a few months’ time, your faces will be all over the TV, and then quickly, you’ll be on the news as either drug dealers, traffickers, or some other evil thing the public hates. Gibbs takes you down, and he’s a hero in the eye of the public. Give that man US attorney general seat,” Russ mocked.
“Which is exactly what you were going to do, but the only reason why you’re pissed off now is because it’s Gibbs getting the glory, not you,” Dice pointed out.
Russ threw his hands in the air. “Yeah, so? I would have gotten you a couple of years in prison, and then you would have been out. Gibbs, on the other hand, will do whatever it takes to make sure you all rot in prison for the rest of your lives.”
“This guy Gibbs sounds charming,” Smoke chuckled.
“None of that is going to happen,” Yarder called. He pounded his fist on the table. “I don’t know what the fuck you are going to do, Russ, but the club is going to be fine. We lock shit down like Fort Knox and trust no one.”
“Pretty much what we are doing right now,” Fade shrugged.
Yarder shook his head. “Even tighter. No one new comes into the clubhouse.”
“Uh, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but we are in the middle of filming a reality show that is pretty much paying our bills right now. How are we going to be on lockdown while a camera crew comes and goes every day?” I asked.
“Fuck,” Yarder grunted and sat back in his seat. “This is the worst fucking timing for the show right now.”
“Can’t we talk to the producers and tell them what is going on?” Fade asked.
Compass and Yarder both shook their heads. “We are under contract to provide a certain amount of hours of footage. If we don’t, the advance we got needs to be paid back with penalties on top.”
“So we’d be fucked even more than we already are,” I sighed. Fucking great.
“What if you give the show some excitement?” Sloane suggested.
“What are you talking about?” Aero asked.
“Well, we’ve all watched reality TV, right?” Sloane looked around expectantly.
There was a mumble of grunts and a chorus of nos.
“Well,” Sloane drawled. “I guess Dove and I have watched reality TV, and there always is sort of a main story with little ones weaved in. We make a big story that the camera crew has to follow, and the rest of the club stays back to be on lockdown and figure out what is going on.”
“Stupid,” Stretch called. “We don’t have anything going on other than fixing cars.”
Sloane rolled her eyes.
