Silus is in the back office, Reaper said. Making calls. He's been on the phone since we left your place. That had been 2 hours ago. 2 hours of riding through snowcovered highways.
Arthur sitting in Diesel's truck because he couldn't ride a motorcycle if his life depended on it, watching the bikers escort Hawk's body like an honor guard. They'd stopped at a funeral home in Great Falls, made arrangements, then continued to Billings. Now it was almost noon and Arthur was exhausted. His body was reminding him that he was 80 years old and had almost died last night. His chest achd.
His legs felt like rubber, but he couldn't rest. Not with 72 hours ticking away. Mr. Hail, you need to eat. Snake said.
She was already in the kitchen pulling out sandwich fixings. When's the last time you had real food? Arthur couldn't remember. Yesterday, sometime before the storm. That's what I thought, Snake said.
Sit down. I'm making you lunch and you're eating every bite. Yes, ma'am. Arthur said, too tired to argue. Jack sat down across from him at the long wooden table.
The kid's eyes were red from crying over Hawk, but he was holding it together barely. My fiance is coming. Jack said, "Melissa, she wants to meet you. " She doesn't need to. She does. I called her this morning, told her everything.
She cried for an hour. Then she said she's driving down from Bosezeman to shake your hand. Jack smiled weakly. She's stubborn like that. Sounds like a good woman.
She is. We met 2 years ago at a diner. She was my waitress. I was so nervous I knocked over my water glass three times. She thought it was cute.
He paused. I almost didn't make it back to her last night. If you hadn't. But I did, Arthur said firmly. So, you did make it back.
You're going to marry her in June and you're going to be happy. That's what matters. The office door opened. Silus came out. And something about his face made everyone stop talking.
He looked different, harder, like he'd made a decision that couldn't be unmade. "Everyone here," Silas called out. Bikers started gathering from all corners of the clubhouse. More than had been at the farm. Arthur counted at least 30 people, maybe more.
"Word had spread fast. "We got a problem," Silas said with a preamble. Arthur's farm is being stolen. Developer named Thomas Beckman is forcing an accelerated foreclosure. 72 hours.
I've been making calls all morning. Talked to five different lawyers. They all say the same thing. We can't stop it legally. Not in 3 days.
Murmurss of anger rippled through the crowd. "So, we stop it illegally? " Razer said. "No," Silas said sharply. "That's exactly what Beckman wants. He's trying to provoke us into doing something stupid so he can call the cops, get us arrested, get Arthur's farm condemned as a criminal property.
Then he takes it even faster. "Then what do we do? " Reaper asked. Silas looked at Arthur. Something in that look made Arthur's stomach drop. "We do what we do best," Silas said.
"We ride. " "What does that mean? " Arthur asked. "It means," Silas said, his voice taking on an edge Arthur hadn't heard before. That Thomas Beckman is about to learn what happens when you mess with Hell's Angel's family. It means every chapter within 500 m is coming here. It means Thursday morning when Beckman shows up at your farm, he's not going to find an empty house.
He's going to find an army. The clubhouse erupted. Bikers were shouting, pumping fists, already pulling out phones to spread the word. Arthur felt like he'd stepped into something much bigger than his small arm problem. "Wait," Arthur said, raising his voice.
Wait, what are you planning? Silas walked over to him. We're planning to show Beckman that you're not alone, that you're protected, that taking your farm means going through us first. But you said we can't do anything illegal. We won't.
Silus said, "We're not going to touch him. We're not going to threaten him. We're just going to be there. 500 motorcycles surrounding your property. A wall of leather between him and your home.
All completely legal. Just citizens exercising their right to peaceful assembly. 500, Arthur repeated faintly. Maybe more. Words spreading fast.
Hell's Angels don't forget debts. And what you did saving 18 of our people. That's a debt every chapter feels. They're coming, Mr. Hail.
From Montana, Idaho, Wyoming. Even some from Washington and the Dakotas. They're all coming. Arthur sat down heavily. 500 bikers at his farm for him.
"This is insane," he said. "No," Diesel said, sitting beside him. "This is family. " Snake brought over a sandwich. Arthur looked at it without seeing it. His mind was spinning.
500 people coming to help him, to protect his home. People who didn't know him, who'd never met him, coming because he'd saved 18 strangers in a blizzard. "I don't deserve this," Arthur said quietly. Yes, you do," Jack said fiercely. "You deserve this and more.
You gave us our lives. We're giving you yours back. " The office phone rang. Silus answered, "It listened, then smiled, a real smile this time, not the hard one from before. " "That was the Boise chapter," he said. "They're sending 20 riders. Should be here by tomorrow night. " More calls came in over the next hour.
Missoula chapter 30 riders, Great Falls 15, Spokane 25. Each call brought more reinforcements, more people willing to drop everything and ride to Billings to help a stranger. Arthur's sandwich sat untouched in front of him. He couldn't eat, couldn't process this. It was too big, too overwhelming.
"Mr. Hail," a woman's voice said. Arthur looked up. A young woman stood there, maybe 25, with long brown hair and worried eyes. She was holding Jax's hand.
"I'm Melissa," she said. Jax's fianceé. She didn't wait for Arthur to respond. She just wrapped him in a hug, squeezing tight enough that Arthur couldn't breathe for a second. "Thank you," she whispered.
"Thank you for giving him back to me. " When she pulled back, she was crying. Jax was crying. Arthur felt his own eyes burning. "He's a good man," Arthur managed. "Take care of him. " "I will.
And Mr. Hail, when you two get married in June, you're invited. " "Front row, I mean it. " "I'd be honored," Arthur said, because what else could he say? More people started arriving. Bikers Arthur had never met coming to shake his hand to say thank you to pledge their support. Each one had heard the story how an 80-year-old farmer had saved 18 Hell's Angels in a blizzard, nearly dying in the process.
The story was growing with each telling, becoming legend. By evening, the clubhouse was packed. Easily a hundred people, maybe more. They kept coming. The parking lot filled with motorcycles.
The kitchen ran out of food and someone made a beer run. It felt like a party, but underneath was something more serious, something purposeful. Silas called for quiet around 8:00. "Listen up," he said. "We've got 2 days before Beckman shows up at Arthur's farm.
2 days to plan this, right? I want scouts watching the property 24/7. I want routes mapped out for when the chapters start arriving Thursday morning. I want everyone understanding the rules. No violence, no threats, nothing that gives Beckman ammunition.
We do this clean. What if he brings the sheriffs? Someone called out. Then we're polite and cooperative. Silus said, "We show them we're not breaking any laws.
We're just visiting a friend. That's not illegal. What if they try to arrest us anyway? Then we have bail money ready and lawyers on speed dial. But it won't come to that.
Beckman's trying to bully an old man. He's not expecting resistance. When he sees what he's up against, he'll back down. And if he doesn't, Reaper asked. Silas's face went hard.