Chapter 28

Chapter 28

Smoke

After taking Serena home and getting her set up for a day of taking it easy, I head to the clubhouse. Siege had called saying I needed to get there quick sharpish, but hadn’t elaborated further. Unlike yesterday which was overcast and raining, today there is only radiant sunshine. It makes my ride a real joy. The knowledge that I’m gonna be a father, and Serena is in love with me, puts another fucking spring in my step. I love that my woman is a go-getter, she might be sweet and innocent on the surface, but she’s been around tough bikers all her life and can give as good as she gets.

Unfortunately, when I get to the clubhouse my good mood evaporates, as I notice three police cars sitting in front of our building and the reason for Siege’s call becomes clear. As I get off my bike, I see the officer in charge and Siege are talking. Siege has his angry face on and is gesturing wildly. Yeah, this is not going well. Since I am the club’s attorney, it’s my duty to intervene.

“Excuse me. My name is Marcus Drake. I’m the attorney for the Savage Legion Motorcycle Club. Do you mind if I ask what this is all about, officer?”

“We’ve had a missing person’s report filed on one Stanford Scott.”

Glancing down at his uniform, I memorize his name and badge number. “Never heard of him, Officer Ledbetter.” I lie.

“That’s strange because we have an eyewitness who reports seeing men on motorcycles bearing your club’s emblem in the vicinity of one of his properties.”

“So, you’re here because someone saw my club brothers ride their motorcycles past an area where a person may or may not have gone missing. Am I hearing you correctly?”

Officer Ledbetter responds tightly, “I’m not going to stand around all day playing legal eagles with you, Mr. Drake.” Slapping the paper he’s been holding in his hand against my chest, he adds, “We’ve got a warrant that allows us to search your premises for information relating to the disappearance of Stanford Scott. We’re executing it now.”

Catching the paper before it drops, I skim over it while he waits. “Of course, our club is happy to comply with the baseless warrants our organization occasionally receives simply for being motorcycle club.”

“We appreciate your cooperation. Please request that your members leave the premises and stand aside while we conduct our search, they are not to leave the area.”

“If the accused’s legal counsel is on the scene, they have the right to be present during the search.”

“We don’t object to you being present, but you must not interfere with the search,” the officer responds firmly.

“Alright. The quickest way to get everyone out is to activate the security alarm. I can do that from the keypad inside the building. It’s located on the wall near the front door.”

Siege speaks up, “I’ll make sure they all stay when they come out.”

The officer shoots him a stern look, “I’m leaving two officers outside the building to make sure everyone stays in place. I’m warning you ahead of time they are wearing body cams that send information to our headquarters in real time. So, any attempt to accost them or interfere with the search will be recorded and those recordings can, and will be used in a court of law.”

“Fucking hell, we’re not animals. Believe it or not we interact with police officers all the time without attacking them,” Siege spits out.

I step forward to try and calm him down. Aggravating law enforcement officers won’t help matters.

“I don’t doubt that, sir.” The officer says to Siege, “I’m just doing my best to make sure our operation here today is concluded without incident.”

I fucking hate this entire situation, but I don’t show it. Instead, I calmly walk inside the building and activate the security alarm. We have two. One lets us know if there’s been a breach in the perimeter and is essentially a call to action. The other is more for emergencies such as fire, and alerts everyone to evacuate the building. As my club brothers and the women pass by me, I tell them, “Stay calm and talk to Siege. Everything’s going to be okay.”

I can’t be everywhere at once, so I stick with Officer Ledbetter. He has his bodycam, and I make sure to record with my phone as well. Lack of trust goes both ways.

He spends his time searching Siege’s office and seeing the club I love being violated, angers me so much the pain is almost visceral. When I watch him digging through Siege’s desk drawers, he’s not careful at all.

He pulls out stuff and throws it on top of the desk, including the ancient, mummified claw of some long dead animal that earned our founder his name. Just seeing the officer touch what to us is the holy grail, makes me want to rip his throat out.

If ever there was a situation that tested my loyalties, this was it. I might be an attorney, but I was also a club brother and to see him desecrate our property angered me. I know this officer is simply doing his job, nothing more. He has every right to touch all our bits of precious memorabilia. Still as a man dedicated to this club for over a decade, I hate these strangers being on our premises and having their eyes on our club business and their hands on our private possessions. They were going to walk away with a lot of information about our club today, and that was going to cause us untold problems later on down the line. We aren’t a one percent club, and all of our business is legit, but after our run in with Pope, and learning how deeply the syndicate was embedded, my trust in Las Salinas PD is somewhat tarnished.

When Officer Ledbetter gets a call on the two-way radio sitting on his left shoulder, things go from bad to worse. I follow him out to the meeting room where we hold church. Panic surges in my chest, because I know they’ve found our stash of weapons. When we walk over to the table where they have laid out all our weapons, Ledbetter turns to me. “What do you have to say about this stash of weapons hidden behind a wall panel?”

“Absolutely nothing. This isn’t the incriminating find you seem to think it is. These are all legally purchased weapons. I should think you would be happy that our club members choose to secure their weapons safely at our clubhouse rather than in their homes, where children, family members with mental health issues or even house invaders could get their hands on them and do untold damage to innocent lives.”

Ledbetter’s lips press into a firm line because he knows I’m right.

The officer who had discovered our armory speaks up, “They all appear to be legal stock. There are no bump stocks or any other illegal modifications. There is one problem, though,” he picks up a weapon I recognize well. It is a gun we confiscated from a drug dealer months ago. It was supposed to have been disposed of, but apparently no one had followed through on that plan.

He hands the rifle to his superior. “This weapon has the serial number filed off, which makes it illegal.”

The lawyer in me knows this means someone is going to be facing felony charges over this weapon.

Ledbetter’s face lights up. “Cuff them all and call for transport.”

“Wait,” I immediately interject. “You can’t possibly think every single member of our club is responsible for one weapon.”

“I don’t,” Ledbetter replies, sounding so smug I want to smack the grin off his face. Holding the weapon up, he explains, “This gives me the right to interrogate everyone on the premises today. Until I find out who owns this weapon, I’m holding you all for as long as I can.”

“Even the women and children?” I ask pointedly.

“What? No, of course not.” Turning to his officer, Ledbetter modifies his order. “Arrest only adults.” Instead of making it about gender, he decides cleverly, “Only arrest individuals wearing a leather vest with the club patch.”

“Our women wear property cuts,” I point out. “They aren’t club members. It’s just our way of showing the world they are our wives and girlfriends.”

Ledbetter rolls his eyes and amends his order, “If their vest says property, offer them human trafficking information, instead of handcuffing them.”

I hate this bastard more by the second. While I have to admit that tagging a woman with a cut that says property might sound ownerish to outsiders, to us it was meant to indicate they were cherished, and a way to extend our club’s protection to them when they were out in the community. This asshole wasn’t even trying to understand club culture.

I hold my tongue as we walk outside and they start handcuffing my club officers. Siege’s eyes meet mine and understanding passes between us. I was to do any and everything possible to get them clear of this mess as soon as humanly possible.

One of the officers walks over to me and states, “Turn around and put your hands behind your back, Mr. Drake. We’re taking you in as well.”

“I don’t think so,” I respond indignantly. “I wasn’t even on the premises when you arrived to execute your search warrant. I was notified you were here and came because my club brothers wanted their attorney present. It was my professional responsibility to respond when they called.” The last bit was a lie, I didn’t have a clue why Siege had called me, until I saw the marked cars lined up. I didn’t care so much about being arrested because I knew they couldn’t pin the weapons charge on me. However, it was imperative that I remained free in order to provide legal representation to my brothers.

“You’re wearing a leather vest with the club insignia on back. Therefore, you get cuffs too.” The younger officer looks pleased with himself.

I glance over my shoulder and call out for his superior officer. “Ledbetter, you better get over here before your underling commits a human rights violation that costs you your job.”

When the older officer hears what the problem is, he frowns at his younger counterpart. “You can’t offer them a phone call, let them call their attorney and then arrest said attorney when he presents to provide legal services. That would be considered denying them the right to appropriate legal representation.”

The younger officer opens his mouth to object, but Ledbetter cuts him off. “We’ll talk about this later.”

A couple of their police transport vans show up and I watch as they begin loading up my club brothers. Thankfully, there were no children here to see what went down.

As good as their word, they left behind anyone younger than eighteen, and men not wearing a cut. That left a bunch of women, Evan, Gordon, and surprisingly enough, Talon, who was roused out of bed and didn’t have time to put on his cut. That brother is one lucky son of a bitch.

Evan and Talon come up on either side of me, as Mel and Gordon usher all the women back inside the clubhouse.

Evan just stares at the vans as they drive away. “It’s so fucked up that they wouldn’t do anything to protect Serena, and then when we were forced to do it ourselves, they come for us like we’re the bad guys.”

Glancing at his bewildered face, I realize he’s only fifteen and has just watched the man he idolizes get arrested like a common criminal. This is a fucked-up situation.

I put my hand on his shoulder. “Go and call Mattie. Break the news to her gently. Tell her I’m on the job and everything is going to be okay.”

He nodded, “Yes, sir.”

Watching him walk away with his shoulder’s slumped was hard. Evan has been through so much, and now this has happened. It feels like fate is stacking pain upon pain on this young man.

Talon’s deep voice drifts to my ears. “What’s the plan?”

“We fight,” I say. “We fight back with everything we’ve got.”