The photographs of the warehouse full of military grade weapons poisoned the entire clubhouse overnight because nobody slept well after seeing that much firepower sitting under Raze’s symbol.
By sunrise every patched member looked tense again while bikes lined the lot and weapons got checked near the garage before the ride out.
Blade spread the photographs across the main table one last time while Casey adjusted satellite maps beside him.
“Warehouse sits near the old shipping district outside county lines. No registered business activity and no recent deliveries on record.” Casey explained.
“That alone screams illegal.” Heath muttered.
Drake stood beside me loading another magazine into his handgun while tension rolled off him heavily.
“We hit it hard and fast. Nobody splits of
