"Don't worry brother, I got this. I'll talk to the kings, I want this done as well. Ramirez, all of those tribal fucks are going to pay and now I want to be sure that they know this is not going to be happening again. No one fucks with an Angel, ever. This is our city, this is our state! Let those fuckers in Ohio scream their fucking heads off! It ends."

Creeper was a passionate member of this club, one of the few that didn't deny Konnor taking up the head chair. No one else had denied it after that, the former Sgt. At Arms did not deny him that chair and how could he? No one else in the charter had the power to say something. There was only a lot of sadness among them all, they had the chance to finally be out of the gun business and so they had accepted it. 

Only that didn't happen, almost like something had reached forth from the pits of hell and denied them that freedom. Creeper knew that day, nothing was getting them free from the arms business. He stared at Konnor for a second, those chocolate eyes of his, they could look warm and inviting like a family member's, only he knew that there was a danger beneath them. It lurked and it waited, just like Creeper, he wondered though, what was hiding beneath that facade for Konnor. 

"Good, so we're all in agreement. The Tribe and the Irish get handled, we all voted, correct?"

They all nodded and soon, the gavel slammed down, signalling the end of this church meeting. Many of them dispersed soon after, the one remaining back was Creeper and Konnor. Both of them sat down, looking at the door that their brothers had left through. There was a tension between them, ever since Estarossa had gone to prison, there was a tension, one that never seemed to end and both of them felt it, they both knew it. 
 
"Be safe brother, I can't lose you as well, I seem to lose all the things in the world that matter to me and I can't have that happen to you as well. I want to be here, so you can finally tell me the truth and why I found Veronica Putlova's phone number on this very table one night when you were in New York."

Konnor raised an eyebrow, he didn't give anything away but he smiled. He knew that both he and Creeper had well been okay at best,  now they seemed to be on opposite ends in terms of their status as brothers, even friends. There was nothing there, they seemed to be moving away from one another, imploding in on themselves and soon it would come to a boiling point. 

"I wanted to know about Darko and his business with some women, see if he wanted a cut in on our profits. We were opening soon, right? It would be good to involve the Russians on something. Not have them think that we have completely burned them, we need this brother. I know we do, keep our options open and to make sure that we don't become the bitches to the Cordelia Cartel who are rapidly growing in power."

Creeper nodded, he had called Veronica and when she heard his voice. She had hung up without another word, it was odd to him. She had picked it up and it meant that she was here, in the states and she had to be close. Something that he wanted to find the answer too. She was here and she had been the one to get cut off from the Russians, why did Konnor have her number?

Creeper didn't know and he didn't want to find out now. Only if this had something to do with Estarossa and his stint in the joint, it would give him some leverage. 

"Yeah I know, only we have other news as well. Big news, the Haitians, Ura and his guys, got the Heroin back and they're starting their trade. They moved it to New York, talked to Albany and they're moving it Regionally. They can't trust it here, knowing that Estarossa kept them safe, with things changing, they needed one as well."
 

Konnor shook his head, not believing what he was hearing for a second before he decided to slam his hand against the table.

To his credit, Creeper didn't jump. He stared Konnor down, making him the shift in how things went. The Haitians had been a supporting organization for them in times of war and now they could not call upon such support anymore. It had ended and now they wondered what was next for them. The Club had to adjust with the times, without the heroin or Haitians guns, shit was going to be complicated. 

"Anything else I need to know before I leave, brother?"
 

Joel knew that this was new, the Haitians had just told him today and they had already started moving out. They had passed their territory to the Dominican Gangs, it had not been a struggle but a sign of respect that many of the people had respected. The backwater areas were now defended, still, Joel knew that it would not be long before they started getting ambitious. 

"Nothing much but it's good news. the Casino, the Tops, its got clearance. You can open up shop, start building....over 100 Million dollars is going to be needed. That kind of bread, we have and we got some locked up in investments. Just let me know when and we can start seeing some returns. You want this to go through?"

Creeper chuckled, yeah...the public needed to be kept happy and not the President. He decided not to voice that out loud, deciding to watch him for a moment as he stood up and walked out, stopping at the threshold as he turned back facing him for a second. 

"We good here, brother? Did I pass, finally?"

Joel raised his own eyebrow in return, knowing that this was where it was headed. They would do whatever was neccesary for the club, that is what made them a good pair to work together. They were not going to like one another, that was for damn sure. Only they would be ready to make sure that they and the club survived. 

"Yeah...we good Konnor...just as long as you eventually tell me why Veronica Putlova is here in the states."

Creeper didn't allow for any more conversation between them. Deciding to stand from his seat, passing Konnor as he did so and slapping him on the back. Not even noticing the pale cheeks of his president, he knew that he would get something out of him eventually. He had a feeling that he wasn't going to like it, a dirty truth that the club didn't need to know but the both of them did. 

Philadelphia, Old City District.

"Do we have a problem now Vic? Ever since I've known you we've had a good thing, I'd hate for that to be ruined..."

Joel stood opposite Victor Graziano, Head of the Graziano Family. One of the few that were not...recognized in this life and they were just getting started now. The Graziano's could have risen high up in the chosen society, only if they picked their spots well and nowhere was a man who could give it to them. 

"Nah but what does this move have to do with us? We ain't exactly rolling in the dough now, we just got started with our own gambling operations."
 

Joel knew that Victor and his crew had a hard time, they were one of the gangs that had a good head at the table. Ready to make choices that would benefit the city as a whole, it was the way things worked and needed to work. Now they were being called upon by the angels, they had a good thing going and it needed to be this way. 

"It's the acquiring of Russian Weapons, we no longer have access to the docks and now you do. You control Philadelphia Docks, after some digging, we found that out. We're willing to cut you in 25% and it's a good deal, allow our weapons through, you got yourself 25 Million Dollars. Each shipment for the first five months, after that, 35%, it will go up to 45% and that is as high as we will go."

Victor was fucking shocked, the Russian Arms were a big business and everyone knew that if you wanted a piece, the FAMC were the people who could get it for you and now they were trying to cut him in on the operation. This was big business, even for a family like his. It spelt a change in the winds and all he had to do was let their weapons through the ports. 

"I got you Joel, that's some big money and it gives us a lot to talk about. I understand you guys can come through and move your equipment. It's going to be nice working with you guys."

With Konnor in Ireland, he ran things for the club and this deal with the Graziano crew was going to benefit them. They all would be elevated. Now he wondered how Konnor was doing in Belfast, they needed this to go through....it needed to happen. 
 

Belfast, Ireland.

Konnor stood in the clubhouse that looked more a shithouse of a pub. This was bullshit and he was openly showing his disdain, he knew that some people would have been against this. That he should have recognized these Belfast boys, only he never could or would recognize this bullshit MC. They would never be on his radar, he knew that much and at best, they would be a glorified host to the Irish weaponry before they made their way to the states. Besides that, there would be no need for an Irish charter of the angels. Here they were now though. 

Johnny and Goren showed that they were feeling the same. Johnny being of a different experience to Goren, showing that he felt disrespected by this MC. They had not been shown proper respect and the only reason they were even here was to bring the guns a safer route, something that they all knew. They thought this gave them some kind of fucking leverage, it never gave them shit, all it would give them was a bunch of bullet-riddled brothers and fewer patches. Half of these fuckers didn't even look like they should even be wearing a patch.

Goren seemed to be in more of a greyish zone. He couldn't believe the President, a King from the states travelled all the way out here to make sure that an Irish arms deal went through and they were treated like any other patch. Something had to be set straight, only Konnor held them all back. Including Zaza, who was the Vice-President of the Tacoma Fallen Angels charter. Seeing a King disrespected like that was not something he wanted to see or even allow in his presence, so when he was holding them. He thought that Konnor had been crazy, only the tall bastard that he was, he probably had a plan already. 

Goren knew that the Irish were probably protective over what they had left, surprisingly there was no feud between the two biker gangs. They were Outlaw clubs and seemed to run some petty crimes operations, some big truck heists here and there but nothing big enough to warrant attention from federal officers. Something that they had to be glad for, now they were asked to be the bridge for guns going into the united states? Those were some big fucking shoes to fill, to have it dropped on them and the possibility of jail time...it was not an easy ask for these clubs. 

"I'm here because Devlin O'Leary tasked us with getting a few biker clubs from across the pond to help us out. Here I stand right now, one of the remaining brothers of a long historic club. Approaching you to make history and buckets of money, this is not something you can pass up. I have to tell you, right now, this type of business is something you would need to put your heart into. I know you can do that McKeavy."

McKeavy, President of the Red Devils. Someone who had not been experienced in war but had a tough upbringing, he and his club of twenty men, with five prospects were one of...if not...the strongest club in Belfast. The other clubs were barely noticeable and not even a tiny dot on the Angel's maps. This club, however, well they stacked up a little in terms of being a regional power. 

"Devlin O'Leary means fuck all to me, mate. I don't know who, nor do I care for him. He heard of us because he needs shit moving, we've got the offer a couple of times and now he's sent you a lot over for this shite. Listen, Konnor. I understand you don't want to patch us over and nor do we wish to forget who we are, my friend."

McKeavy knew who and what he was, a President and he had to do right by his club. It would behove him to actually put this up to a vote for the club in general. Only hearing that the Red Devils had gotten this offer multiple numbers of times and turned it down, there had to have been a vote of some kind. Now all four of them were surprised but they knew that something had to have happened for Devlin to pick out these guys, specifically. 

Zaza out of all them, he felt something was off and he didn't know what. Only the way these Irish fuckers were acting, it was like they had some action of their own that they didn't want someone else getting a whiff of. Deciding to keep quiet for now, Zaza kept his eyes out on the other fuckers. Knowing that this was going to be one of those moments that he would need to save a King's bacon and more than one. 

"Yeah, I wish to patch a few of you guys, only its not a majority vote in some cases Keath. I'm telling you that the business here with the Irish is going to happen, I don't give a fuck if a single member of your club patches over, that's going to be a charter in the eyes of the angels. And I am sure, once some of these homegrown teens and others start seeing our patch flying high around Belfast, tons will be starting to patch in. We know how this works Keath, tell us what the fucking problem is, now."

Konnor knew that something was fishy with these fuckers. They never gave it to him straight, they were probably being blackmailed or some shit, not wanting the influence of the Angels in their precious Ireland. Now that would have been something, only he now decided to keep his wits about him, someone didn't want them here and he wanted to find out. Plus he knew that something would have had happened, its why he brought some of the strongest of his guys. 

"Why the fu-"

"Don't fucking act like your shit doesn't stink. I can see it from here that your hiding something from us and its obvious. I understand that someone doesn't want us here but we want you guys and the Dungloe boys. I want to solve these problems, so tell us and maybe we can forgive your disrespect to us, regardless of whoever is pulling the strings, I expect respect and you're going to know that."