When we arrive back in Georgia, instead of going to their homes, the MC rides straight to the clubhouse. Now that the announcement has come out about the identity and potential location of the terrorists, the number of press around the clubhouse has grown exponentially. I suspect news crews from all across the nation have driven through the night to be here.

“Look at this mess,” Toby says over his shoulder as we drive up to the clubhouse gates with the rest of the crew.

If we thought it was a madhouse before, it’s nothing compared to now.

“I don’t see this going away anytime soon,” I say. “My advice to the Steel Infidels would be to hunker down and be prepared for the media to hang around for a long time.”

After parking the bikes, we head inside the clubhouse, then go upstairs. The Mason brothers are already gathered around the table where lunch has been laid out for them.

“Wow! Who did all this?” I ask, glancing around at the big plates of sandwiches, chips, and chocolate chip cookies.

“The Sweet Butts who didn’t go on the ride,” Toby answers. “Grab yourself a plate. You must be starving.”

Hmmm…those darn Sweet Butts again.

“I want a Sweet Butt of my own,” I joke, picking up a potato chip and biting into it. “They come in handy.”

“Did you tell Maggie about the shooters?” Flint asks.

Toby nods as he fills up his plate with food. “Maggie checked with her boss at the station to see if he knew anything we didn’t before we left the lodge. There’s nothing new. If the police have any leads, it hasn’t been released yet.”

“My boss reminded me that there were two guys arrested on Interstate I-75 in Atlanta last year who were carrying explosive materials in their van,” I say. “It could be connected to this group. They’re tracking down every lead they can find.”

“That makes sense,” Flint says. “It would be easy for a small group to work undetected in North Georgia for years. The locals would never suspect someone from Bardsville of making bombs or doing mass shootings. That’s how Eric Rudolph stayed hidden in plain sight for so long. Nobody suspected him. Even after he’d been identified, people couldn’t believe it. What else did your boss---”

Toby’s phone interrupts him.

“It’s Rocco,” Toby says apologetically. “I’d better take this.” He opens his phone and hits the button. “What’s up?” he says. A worried look crosses his face. He quickly gets up and walks over to the window. “Which white van? How long has it been there?”

He leans over to pick up the binoculars from the table and goes back to the window. “Yeah, I see it now. It’s unmarked. Are you sure it’s been there this whole time? When did the guy show up?” He listens for another minute. “Is he the one wearing a dark jacket and red cap pulled down low over his eyes? Stay put. I’m coming out.” He slides the phone into his front pocket.

“What is it?” Flint asks.

“Rocco noticed a suspicious white van that’s been sitting there by itself all of last night and today. There were so many other vehicles around that he didn’t think much about it until now. Nobody has been anywhere around it until a few minutes ago when a man showed up without cameras or a crew. He sat in the driver’s seat for a few minutes then started walking away through the crowd.”

“You can’t go out there,” Flint says firmly. “It’s just a van. I’m sure it belongs to one of the news stations. We’ve already put together a plan with Maggie about how we’re handling the media. You’re going to blow it all to hell if you step outside the fence and wade right into the middle of them.”

Toby scratches the stubble on his face and blows out a long breath. “Something doesn’t feel right,” he says. “I don’t like it.” He holds the binoculars back up to the window. “Damn! Now I’ve lost the guy. I can’t see him.”

Flint pulls out his phone. “I’ll tell Rocco to go check it then,” he says. “If it will make you feel better. I know how you can be about things once you get a bee in your bonnet.”

Toby reaches over and grabs his arm. “No! Don’t do that. Rocco wouldn’t recognize an explosive if he was sitting on one.”

“An explosive!” I say in surprise. “Aren’t you overreacting? I realize the media doesn’t have a great reputation. We hardly go around blowing things up just to have something for the six o’clock news.”

“It’s not the media I’m worried about,” Toby says. “It’s the Hand of God people.”

“Army of God,” Flint corrects.

“She’s right,” Sam mumbles with his mouth full of cookie. “You really should calm the fuck down. You’re overreacting and freaking me out. This isn’t Afghanistan. I know the shooting shook you up. No need to get all whacked out about it. It’s just your PTSD acting up again. That’s all. You’re blowing this way out of proportion. It’s an empty van.” He shrugs. “Big fucking deal. Nothing to get your panties in a wad about. Maybe a news crew had to split up and left it behind to pick up later.”

Toby takes a deep breath and leans his forehead against the cold glass window. “Fuck it!” he says suddenly, slamming his hands down on the windowsill. “I can’t rest until I check it for myself. I’m going out there.” He heads for the door in a rush.

I jump up and run after him. “Then I’m going too!”

“Jesus Christ!” Flint says. “We might as well all go then. Sam, you run interference with the media if you can. Charm their pants off and distract them from Toby. This is turning into a colossal clusterfuck.”

By the time I catch up with Toby, he’s already at the top of the stairs. I’m glad I’m not in high heels because for a big guy, he’s incredibly fast on his feet. Jodi is on her way up the narrow stairwell. Toby almost knocks her over in his hurry and she grabs the banister to keep from falling.

“You all need to come down and watch the news on the TV,” she yells. “I was just coming up to get you. Come quick. They’re threatening to do it again.”

“Do what again?” Toby asks as he moves past her.

“The terrorists!” she says. “They’ve released a video saying they’re going to do something else. It’s on the news.”

“Did they say what?”

“No,” she answers. “They were ranting about being anti-media, getting revenge and some other stupid stuff that didn’t make any sense.”

“Fuck!” Toby yells.

He moves past Jodi and runs toward the front door of the clubhouse. He’s almost at the door when he realizes I’m right behind him. He whirls around, causing me to bump straight into his chest.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks. “Stay here, Maggie.”

“I’m going out there with you.”

“Hell no, you’re not!” He grabs my shoulders and holds me still. “Stay here in the clubhouse. I’m not asking, I’m telling. I can’t lose you. Please. Do what I say.”

I open my mouth to argue when I see something in his eyes. He’s worried. For real. A connection passes between us. An unspoken word.

I nod my head. “Okay,” I say reluctantly. This isn’t the time to butt heads.

He drops his hands from my shoulders and goes outside. Stepping into the doorway, I watch as he sprints full speed across the parking lot toward the gate.

“Rocco!” he yells.

The bearded man at the gate turns to Toby and starts walking toward him. Before they meet, the white van on the other side of the fence explodes.