Prologue
Reece Montgomery had seen many a man injured. Shootings. Explosions. He’d watched men die before he’d grown into a man himself.
But there was something particularly poignant about Granger Macmillan—the man who’d taught Reece how to be a good one—being confined to a wheelchair and looking gaunt and weak.
Granger sat in said wheelchair in front of the entire body of North Star, a secret group set up for the sole purpose of taking down the Sons of the Badlands, a powerful gang who’d caused destruction and death across the whole of South Dakota.
Reece would know. His parents had been Sons groupies for several years before the state had permanently taken him away from them. They were probably both dead now, though Reece refused to look into the matter.
They’d been dead to him too many years to count.
Reece wouldn’t say he blamed the Sons of the Badlands for his unfortunate childhood, or for being bounced from foster home to foster home, but he was determined to take them down all the same.
The fact that they, in collaboration with another organization of morally bankrupt men, had set a bomb off in the heart of the North Star headquarters ate away at Reece. Also, the fact that Granger had been shot in the midst of said explosion, leaving him weak even all these weeks later, felt like a particular failure.
Reece didn’t know what exactly he’d failed. He’d been hurt in the blast himself, but was mostly healed now. He just knew...this wasn’t right. Nothing that had gone down the day of the explosion was right.
Never mind the fact that, with some help, North Star had won—catching the man who’d left the bomb. Winning was so much less satisfying when he was in a room filled with the collateral damage from that victory.
“As you can see,” Granger continued, “I’m not going to be physically capable of taking the reins back for quite some time.” Even his voice sounded tired. Still, he was here and clearly determined to give the speech, and the room of about fifty field operatives, IT people and medical staff stayed very quiet in order to hear him.
“Shay will be my replacement until I’m able to return.”
No one spoke a word. If there were concerns or doubts, no one voiced them. No one would dare. Even in a wheelchair, recovering from both a bullet wound and the injuries due to the blast, Granger Macmillan was their leader.
Shay could take over for a while—Reece figured she’d do well enough. She too had been hurt in the explosion—burns, mostly. She was recovering quickly, much like Reece and the others who’d been in the building and injured, but not shot like Granger had been.
Shay was a rarity in North Star. She’d lasted more than the prescribed four years. She had experience in each of North Star’s many areas of expertise. No one could replace Granger, to Reece’s way of thinking, but Shay could certainly step in and hold things together while he got his strength back.
If Reece had been thinking about it over the past year, he might have noticed Granger was grooming her to be his replacement. She was given missions in every aspect of North Star’s operations. Granger sometimes asked her advice. Despite multiple instances where she hadn’t followed orders, or even some where she’d gone directly against them, Shay was always a part of North Star. In retrospect, it was clear she was Granger’s second-in-command, ready to take over at a moment’s notice.
Reece had just never considered Granger bowing out or getting injured, or anyone needing to step in.
Shay took the floor next to Granger.
“You all know me well enough. I’ve been here longer than any person here except Granger himself. I hope you know, no matter what it may look like on the outside, I’ve always been dedicated to eradicating the Sons. Like most of you, they are responsible for the deaths of loved ones of my own. As acting temporary head of North Star, I can assure you we won’t slow down or stop until our mission is done.”
She looked down at Granger in his chair, something odd passing over her expression. Reece didn’t know her well enough to figure it out.
“We won’t quit now. Not when we’ve made real progress. I know some of you will balk at a new leader, but I hope you’ll do me and Granger the courtesy of bringing it to me and letting us try to work it out. North Star will go on as it always has while Granger recovers. That I promise you.”
Reece watched Granger’s face. It was impassive. Something about that lack of expression or emotion, no matter how common for Granger, made Reece wonder if there really was a recovery expected—at least one that would bring him back to lead an elite group dedicated to taking down a gang as dangerous as the Sons.
“Our fight doesn’t stop with one setback. As we all heal, we’re going to keep working, keep fighting, and we’ll make sure the Sons are wiped out forever.”
There was some applause, some shouts of assent and encouragement. No one looked particularly defeated or upset about the change in leadership.
Because North Star had always been about one thing, and one thing only.
Wiping out the Sons.
Reece wouldn’t stop until he’d helped bring that eventuality to fruition.