The state police who've been told to look the other way? The system is designed to protect people like the Brennans. Going through official channels would just get the evidence buried and me killed. So, what's your plan? Same as it's always been.
Find someone who can't be bought. Someone with enough reach and enough integrity to make sure this goes public. Someone who won't let it get buried. And you think I'm that someone? No.
But I think you know how to fight a war that can't be won through conventional means. You're a Ranger. You're Hells Angels. You've spent your whole life operating in the spaces where official rules don't reach. She walked back to the desk, picked up the photograph of Colonel Brennan.
The question is, are you willing to do what needs to be done to get justice for your brother? Creed looked at the USB drive, at Hollis, at Harper and Declan, refugees in their own town because they'd seen too much. He thought about Emmett, his little brother. The kid who'd followed him everywhere, who'd enlisted because Creed had enlisted, who'd come home from war broken in ways that medicine couldn't fix. The brother he thought was dead for 15 years.
The brother who'd actually been alive, suffering, alone, invisible, right up until someone decided he was a liability that needed to be eliminated. Yeah, Creed said. I'm willing. Hollis nodded. Then we need to move fast.
You've got maybe 24 hours before the Brennans figure out where you are. Before they come with enough force that you can't stop them. We need to make those hours count. What do you need? Your brothers.
Every Hells Angels chapter you can call in. Because we're not going to win this fight alone. Creed pulled out his phone, started making calls. By noon, the garage was full. Flint had been the first to arrive, limping from the shoulder wound he'd taken, but refusing to sit down.
Then came the others. Bull, a 58-year-old former Marine who'd done three tours in Iraq, and had the scars to prove it. Old Johnny, 67, who'd earned his name by being the oldest member of the chapter, and the meanest when he needed to be. Wraith, Pike, Diesel. Names that belonged to men who'd lived hard lives and weren't afraid of adding to them.
15 men in total, sitting on bikes or leaning against walls, all of them wearing the same patch on their backs. Hellsing's Angels, Millbrook chapter. They'd come because Creed had called. That was all the reason they needed. Creed stood in the center of the garage, Hollis beside him, and told them everything.
About Alpha 6, about the betrayal, about Emmett and the murder, and the evidence that could bring down the Brennans. When he finished, the garage was silent. Then old Johnny spoke up, his voice rough as sandpaper. So, what you're telling us is we're going up against the richest, most connected family in the county, the people who own the law, the courts, and probably half the state government. And our plan is to what?
Politely ask them to turn themselves in? "No," Creed said. "Our plan is to make them irrelevant. We can't fight them in court, but we can fight them in the court of public opinion. We make this so public, so loud, that they can't bury it.
We give this evidence to every news station, every newspaper, every blogger and journalist who'll listen. We flood the zone until there's no way to spin it. " Bull cracked his knuckles. "And when the Brennans send their people after us? " "Then we do what we've always done. We stand our ground and we protect our own. " Flint stood up from where he'd been sitting. "Boss, I'm in.
Whatever you need. " One by one, the others nodded, made their commitments. 15 men against an empire. Bad odds. Impossible odds. But Rangers didn't believe in impossible.
And neither did Hellsing's Angels. "All right," Creed said. "Here's how this is going to work. " They spent the next 4 hours planning. Hollis knew the Brennan properties, the security systems, the patterns of the guards. She'd been watching for 34 years.
She knew their weaknesses. The plan was simple. They'd hit three locations simultaneously. The Brennan estate, the company headquarters, the county records office. At each location, they plant copies of the evidence, broadcast it live on social media, make sure it was replicated and distributed before anyone could stop them.
It was risky. It was dangerous. It would probably end with some or all of them arrested or worse. But it was the only chance they had. As the sun started to set, painting the garage in shades of orange and red, Creed stood outside smoking a cigarette he'd bummed off Flint.
He didn't smoke anymore, hadn't in 20 years, but tonight felt like a night for old habits. Hollis joined him, moving with that same careful gait that hid the warrior underneath. "You know this might not work," she said. "The Brennans have weathered scandals before. Money buys a lot of forgiveness. " "Maybe, but it doesn't buy back a reputation once it's gone.
And it doesn't bring back the dead. " "Is this about justice or revenge? " Creed took a long drag, let the smoke burn his lungs. "Does it matter? " "It might to you. Later, when this is over and you have to live with what you've done. " "I've been living with what I've done for 34 years, surviving when my team didn't, coming home when Emmett couldn't, building a life while my brother was dying on the streets. " He flicked the cigarette away, watching the ember arc through the twilight. "I don't know if this is justice or revenge, but I know it's necessary. And I know I'm the only one who can do it. " Hollis was quiet for a moment.
"For what it's worth, Captain Vaughn would have been proud of you, the man you became. " "Captain Vaughn is dead. " "No, she's just been waiting for 34 years, waiting for the right moment to come back. " Hollis smiled, and for the first time Creed could see the woman she'd been before the scars and the gray hair. "Maybe we both have been. " Inside the garage, someone started an engine, then another. The sound built. 15 Harleys roaring to life, a symphony of chrome and defiance. Creed walked back inside, swung his leg over his bike, felt the familiar vibration as he turned the key.
Hollis climbed on behind him, her grip steady despite her age. "You remember the Alpha 6 motto? " she asked. Creed smiled. For the first time in days, maybe weeks, he smiled. "Death before dishonor.
Victory at any cost. " "Then let's go remind the Brennans what happens when you dishonor the dead. " They rode out into the Arizona night, 15 bikes in formation, headlights cutting through the darkness like judgment finally arriving. Behind them, the garage stood empty. The picture of Alpha 6 still hung on the wall, six young faces staring out at nothing, waiting for promises to be kept. Ahead of them, the lights of Millbrook glowed against the desert sky, a town owned by one family, a town about to learn that ownership had limits. And somewhere in between, in the spaces where light met shadow, Emmett Maddox's ghost rode with them, waiting for peace that could only come from justice.
The war was coming, and this time there would be no survivors among the guilty. The Brennan estate sat on 200 acres of prime Arizona real estate, a monument to wealth built on the bones of men who trusted the wrong people. Creed could see it from a mile away, lit up like a casino, every window blazing against the desert night. Security lights swept the perimeter in automated patterns that Hollis had memorized weeks ago. They'd stopped the bikes a half mile out, engines silent, 15 men checking weapons and equipment in the darkness.
Creed could feel the tension coming off them like heat. This was it, the point of no return. "Radio check," he said quietly into the comm unit Hollis had provided, military grade, encrypted, the kind of gear that shouldn't have been available to civilians, but was, if you knew the right people. "Team 2, copy. " That was Bull's voice from the company headquarters downtown. "Team 3, copy. " Old Johnny at the county records office.
"Team 1, ready. " Creed looked at the men around him. Flint, Pike, Diesel, Wraith. Warriors who'd followed him into hell before and would do it again without question. Hollis stood beside him, no longer disguised as a beggar. She'd shed the ragged clothes for tactical gear that fit her like it had been waiting 34 years to be worn again.