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“Tell me what I’m looking at,” Gate said. Then he held up a hand, “And, for God’s sake, this early in the morning, use words an old bastard like me can understand. None of that techno shit.”
Rooster looked wounded, “But you’re not old, Gate.”
“We don’t share a vocabulary,” Gate said, “so I might as well be.”
Rooster nodded as if that made sense, “Okay.”
“Is there any imminent threat to our club?” Gate asked.
Stash shook his head, “No. But there’s a very big one to Maker’s girl Lizzie.”
Gate frowned, “Lizzie?”
“Check it,” Stash said, scrolling through screens of documents faster than Gate could focus.
“You gotta slow that shit down or give me the Cliff’s Notes,” Gate said.
“Slowing down,” Stash said, “because you’re not gonna believe it unless you see it for yourself.”
“Thank God,” Gate muttered. He leaned in and started reading. “What the fuck is this?”
“That’s the same thing we said,” Rooster chimed in.
“Blaine Freemont?” Gate asked.
“The one and only,” Rooster agreed.
Gate reached for his phone, “Holy fuck. I gotta call Maker.”
Gate swiped across his phone and didn’t have to wait long before Maker’s voice growled over the line.
“Not a good time,” Maker said.
“New intel. You and your girl need to get to Savannahnow.”
A slight pause and then, “On the way.”
And then all Gate had was dead air.
Gate picked up his mug and headed for his office. “Bring everybody in,” he said over his shoulder.
He was dialing the next number by the time he hit the stairs.
Anna took longer to answer than Maker did.
“You just left,” Anna laughed by way of greeting.
“Gonna need you down at the compound,” Gate said.
“You okay?” Anna asked.
And the concern in her voice warmed Gate’s heart.
“I’m fine, but I think the shit’s about to hit the fan, and you and Nine might need to move quicker than we thought.”
“Getting dressed, and then I’m there,” Anna said and ended the call.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
