Page 53 of Priest

“We came from clubs that taught us everything we didn’t want to be,” I continue. “We went to war and learned what brotherhood costs when it’s real. Then we came home and built this place out of the pieces we still had left.”

I look at Deacon’s empty chair because avoiding it won’t keep him alive.

“Dead Man’s Hand wants to drag us back into the kind of club we crawled out of. They want blood answering blood, noise answering noise, fear doing the thinking for us.” I look back at my officers. “They don’t get that from me.”

Ink leans back slightly, eyes narrowed. “So we make them think they did.”

“Exactly.”

Ledger’s fingers move to his notebook now. “How wide are we opening this?”

“Wide enough to catch movement. Narrow enough to control the blast.” I look to the screen. “Ghost, you and Ink start pulling at threads. Phones and cameras first. Then chatter. Anything that moved after that route hit ears, I want it mapped.”

Ghost’s answer is immediate. “Already running the first pass.”

Ink nods. “I’ll build the human side. Who heard what, when they heard it, who got too quiet after.”

“Good.” I turn to Ledger. “Sniff through anything financial you can think of. Settled debts. Sudden cash. Vendor orders that look cleaner than they should. If DMH breathed near money, I want to smell it.”

Ledger writes once in the notebook. “I’ll start with shell traffic and debt movement.”

“Nomad, tighten routes. Nobody rides habit until I say otherwise. I want alternate roads, dead zones marked, and anything that gives someone a clear shot at us cut out.”

Nomad gives a short nod. “Done.”

“Graves, keep everyone sharp. Prospects especially. I don’t want panic in the clubhouse, but I want eyes open.”

Graves’s voice comes calm. “They’ll stay in line.”

I look to Rook. “You decide who hears what when we start feeding false pieces. Adjacent circles only. No officers.”

His nod is small.

Enough.

“We’re going to let the lie breathe,” I say. “Different route. Different timing. Different bait. Whoever runs their mouth gives us the shape of the leak.”

“And if they realize it’s a trap?” Ledger asks.

“Then they panic,” I say. “Panic makes mistakes.”

The quiet that follows has teeth.

I push back from the table. “Church adjourned.”

Chairs scrape back, but voices stay low. The work has already started before anyone reaches the door. That’s how Saints moves when it matters. No chaos. No chest-beating. Just men who know their jobs and trust the brother beside them to do his.

Ink pauses near me. “You want Ghost and me in his cave?”

“Yeah. You’ll start in the morning with him.”

Ledger closes his notebook. “I’ll go through garage invoices and Red Mercy payouts, no one handles financials at The Bar other than me.”

“Do what you need to do.”

Nomad glances toward Deacon’s empty chair, then back at me. “I’ll have new routes by morning.”

“Tonight,” I say.