Understood? Understood. Back inside, someone had brought his truck around. Caleb unloaded his bags and was assigned a room on the second floor. Small, clean with a single window that looked out over the compound.
He tested the mattress and nearly wept at how comfortable it was compared to his trailer.
His phone buzzed, a text from a number he didn't recognize. This is Agent Reeves checking in. You okay? He texted back. Yeah, at the clubhouse.
They've got me learning to shoot. Good, you might need it. Cartel put a price on Arthur's head. $50,000. You're probably on the list, too. Caleb's blood went cold.
How much is unknown, but assume that they want you dead. Great. Stay inside. Stay alert. Don't trust anyone outside the club.
I'll update you when I know more. Caleb sat on the bed staring at his phone. $50,000 for Arthur. How much for a nobody kid who just happened to be in the wrong place at the right time?
A knock at the door made him jump. Yeah. Tiny poked his head in. Church in five. Clutch wants you there.
Church club meeting. Normally prospects and outsiders ain't allowed, but you're a special case. Tiny's expression was serious. They're going to vote on what to do about the cartel. You should hear it.
The chapel, they actually called it, that was a large room with a circular table surrounded by chairs. Each chair had a name plate, president, vice president, road captain, sergeant at arms. The walls were decorated with more patches and photos, including one of Arthur smiling at a run from a few years back. Caleb was directed to a chair against the wall. Tiny sat beside him, arms crossed.
Clutch banged a gavel on the table. Brothers, we got a situation. Arthur's alive, Dalton's arrested, but the cartel's still out there. They got people in this county, this state, and they're going to come looking for payback. Let them come, someone growled.
We'll be ready. We will, Clutch agreed, but we also got an innocent kid caught in the middle. Caleb didn't ask for this. He just tried to save a dying man. Now he's got a target on his back because he did the right thing.
So, what are you proposing? This from an older biker with gray in his beard. We go to war over one kid? We go to war over the principle. Clutch corrected.
Today it's Caleb. Tomorrow it's one of our families. The cartel needs to know that you don't mess with the Hells Angels and walk away. Murmurs of agreement rippled through the room. I say we hit them first, another voice called out.
We know where their stash houses are. We burn them out. And bring every fed in the Southwest down on us. Clutch shook his head. We're working with the DEA now, brothers.