Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 74575 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74575 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
I jumped up and rushed over to get a better look. The guy was young, only twenty or so in the picture, but that was over forty years ago. He would’ve aged a great deal in that length of time.
With that in mind, I placed my hand over his forehead and chin, then tried to imagine the guy with gray hair and wrinkles. That’s when it hit me. The man wasn’t a fine arts thief. Not even close.
He was Charles Lynskey.
He was a Russian militant who purchased weapons overseas, providing them to those who supported his cause. The discovery led me to check all the names on the wall, making sure the crimes associated with them were legit, and it came as no surprise that they were all bogus. Most had a connection to Al Qaeda and Taliban, and any other militant group who wanted to rise against their government, while others were arms dealers who sold to the highest bidder.
Bruton had investigated all of these men, but for crimes they hadn’t committed.
Not that it mattered.
No arrests were ever made.
I was jotting down some thoughts when the door opened, and Stitch entered the room. “You been at this all night?”
“Yeah, but I’m good.”
“Don’t wanna hear that shit,” Stitch fussed. “Get a few hours shut-eye, and then you can get back at it.”
“I’m onto something here. I can’t just...”
“It’ll be waiting for you when you wake up.” He motioned his head over to the sofa. “Crash for an hour or two. We’ll be back with the grandson by then.”
There was no sense in arguing. Stitch wasn’t going to let it go, so I got up and made my way over to the sofa. I figured it was better than going all the way back to my room—at least that way, I would be close if anything came up. As soon as I closed my eyes, Stitch turned out the lights and walked out of the room.
I didn’t expect to sleep.
My mind was racing with too many unanswered questions, but my curiosity over Bruton’s escapades wasn’t strong enough to fight against my exhaustion. Eventually, I passed out, and I didn’t wake until hours later when I heard Big grumble, “What the fuck?”
I rolled over and found him sitting at my desk, scanning over all the intel I’d gathered on Bruton. He immediately turned to me and asked, “Is this what I think it is?”
“Afraid so.” I pulled myself up from the sofa and walked over to him. “Looks like he has connections with arms dealers all over the world.”
“Holy shit. I can’t believe I missed this.” Big turned to me with a strange look on his face. “You really do have a way with this stuff that I never did.”
“You would’ve found it.”
“I’m not so sure. Regardless, I’m glad you pieced it together.” His brows furrowed with concern as he asked, “You think this is the reason he’s so interested in the club? He wants in on our pipeline?”
“He’s the only one who can answer that for certain, but it certainly looks like a strong possibility.”
“He’s gotta know there’s no way in hell that’s gonna happen.”
“I’m sure he knew we would resist. That’s why he decided to use drastic measures.” I glanced back over the table full of information on my brothers and their loved ones. “You gotta admit, using our families against us is pretty fucking persuasive.”
“But his plan is about to backfire on his ass.”
“Yeah, we’re gonna show this motherfucker what Fury is all about.”
“Damn straight we will.” Big motioned his hand over to the wall as he said, “We need to let Cotton and the others in on what you’ve found.”
I nodded, then walked over and started putting everything back into the correct folder. Seeing all the faces of my brothers and their ol’ ladies made my stomach twist into a knot, and that knot only grew tighter when I came across Elsie’s beautiful face. I wanted to see her, hold her, so I could prove to myself that she was truly okay. Knowing that wasn’t an option was getting to me.
Everything was getting to me, and it was getting harder and harder to keep myself in check.
But I had no choice.
My brothers needed me, and I refused to let them down.
Big and I gathered everything we had and carried it to the conference room. We’d just finished setting everything up when Cotton walked in with the rest of the brothers. As soon as they were seated, Big motioned his hand over to me, “Bones is gonna fill you in on a few things. Some aren’t gonna be easy to hear, but we both need you to hear him out.”
“Is it just me, or does this sound bad?” Two Bit grumbled.
“It certainly isn’t good,” Cotton responded.
Without saying anything more, Big turned to me and gave me a nod, signaling that it was my turn to speak. Knowing it was going to cause the greatest reaction, I took the files that had been sent to me and distributed the copies throughout the room. As expected, a low, angry rumble filled the room the second the guys started looking over the papers I’d given them.