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8
Jack
“What do you mean, a mole?”
“I mean a goddamn fuckin’ mole. An informant. A traitor in our fuckin’ midst.”
“How do you know?”
“Peters clued me in. That’s why he was here – not ‘cause of the shooting, but to give me a heads-up. The shooting was just a convenient excuse.”
“Why didn’t he say anything to me?”
“Well, probably because he was surrounded by twenty fuckin’ cops at the time. That, and he knows you hate his fuckin’ guts.”
I glared at Lou, but I couldn’t exactly deny the charge. “What’d Peters say?”
“Said he’s got a buddy in Homeland Security.”
I frowned. “Why is this the first I’m hearing about this ‘buddy’?”
“I dunno. First I heard of him, too. Maybe he’s like the good china – Peters only brings him out on special occasions. Anyway, dude called sayin’ there was chatter this morning from the fuckin’ DOJ about shit goin’ down in Richards. As in right now.”
I stared at Lou in shock. “…the Department of Justice?”
“Yeah,” Lou grunted. “Hell of a coincidence, don’t you think?”
“Was it about the desert?”
“Peters doesn’t know. All his buddy got was vague generalities. But something tripped the wires about Richards and the club.”
My stomach sank. “You thinkin’ FBI?”
“That or the DEA. Maybe the ATF. Either way, it’s shitty for us.”
“We got out of guns three years ago. If it’s the desert, it’s FBI… if it’s the shipment next Friday – ”
“DEA,” Lou agreed. “Which could mean they’re watching for Friday’s delivery.”
“Shit.”
I started pacing back and forth.
A mole?!
What the fuck?! How was this even possible?!
Every brother in the MC had been thoroughly vetted. The idea that any of them was a traitor was nearly incomprehensible. The very thought turned my stomach.
“Do you have any idea who it is?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Lou said grimly. “Who’s new in town?”
I stopped pacing. “What? We haven’t patched anybody in for months, and anybody we did we’ve known for years. You think it was Tommy or – ”
“I didn’t say it was a guy,” Lou said, his eyes piercing mine.
It took me a second to get the implication.
