Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy.

The Acting President was the last of the patches to make his way to the Clubhouse for the emergency meeting he had called for.

After Juice had given him an update on the Intel he had been able to gather, Jax needed time to think and process the information and he knew he couldn't do it in the Chapel. The walls felt like they were closing in on him and he felt himself grow increasingly edgy, irritable, and explosive. He needed to go for a ride and let off some steam. Before leaving the Clubhouse, however, Jax had instructed Half Sack to get in touch with his brothers and let them know that he wanted them to meet him at the table in about an hour.

What started out as a short ride to calm himself down had turned into a pilgrimage to the one place he had always felt untouchable as long as Jolene was in his arms.

The streams.

To any stranger stumbling into his path, while he sat on a large rock by the water's edge, Jax would appear as if he didn't have a care in the world as he casually smoked his joint. Truth was, he was feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. Jax knew that sharing the information that Juice had been able to cull for him was the easy part. There would be tough decisions to make when his brothers asked him what he planned to do with the information now that they had it. That was when he knew the fine line between Acting President of SAMCRO and old man would begin to blur.

Having kept his brothers unintentionally waiting on him in the Chapel as he gathered his shit together, Jax finally entered the Clubhouse. Dropping his prepay into the cigar box on the bar, he looked at Half Sack with a furrowed brow as the new patch poured him a generous shot of whiskey without Jax asking for one.

Half Sack shrugged. "You look like you could use it." He said simply and moved on to clearing the empties scattered around the Main Room.

Downing the four fingers of Jack in one gulp, Jax slammed the glass onto the bar. "Sack, put that shit down," He ordered the young man holding an armful of beer bottles as Jax moved towards the Chapel. "And grab Opie's old seat at the table."

"Everything alright?" Opie asked as Jax took his seat at the head of the table.

Looking around the table at his brothers, Jax realized that the grim look on their faces reflected his own. Having an emergency meeting really wasn't out of the ordinary. Calling one at the Chapel instead of the Teller home in order for Clay to participate spoke volumes.

Jax shook his head slightly. "Not really, bro."

Waiting for the murmurs and "what the fucks" to quiet down as Half Sack entered the Chapel, closed the door and took his seat at the Redwood, Jax lit a cigarette. Picking up the gavel, he slammed it down and quickly cut to the heart of the matter. "It looks like Stahl's made her first move and, like I knew she would, she's using my old lady as a pawn."

"Shit, bro. What the fuck does that mean?" Happy asked.

Jax nodded towards Juice. "Fill everyone in on why Jo came to the Clubhouse earlier."

Tig guffawed. "Aw shit, you mean Juicy got to watch?"

"Not now, man." Jax said, giving his SAA a stern look and then gestured towards Juice again.

Juice quickly ran down their conversation with Jolene earlier in the afternoon. Then he dropped the dirty bomb. "With the info Jo gave me, my contact at Charming S&L was able to get some Intel on the wire transfer. It seems that the money was funneled through a couple of different accounts and banks before it got to the hospital. It was obvious that whoever initiated the transfer didn't try very hard to hide the point of origin in a paper trail. My contact was able to determine that the original funds came from a consulting firm called the Midas Group out of Sacramento. While the company seems to be a legitimate corporation on paper, it was easy peeling through the layers and figuring out that it's nothing but a dummy corp.—set up by the U.S. fuckin' government and used to transfer funds from a Wit Pro account." Juice said grimly.

The room suddenly erupted, with shouts of "fuckin' bastards" and "pricks" being the nicest expletives tossed around, but the loudest to be heard was Bobby Elvis.

"What is this shit?" He demanded. "You're telling us that money came from the Feds?"

Juice sighed and ran his hand across his Mohawk. "That's exactly what I'm telling you."

"Wit Pro? You know what this means, don't you?" Bobby almost yelled at Juice. "That ATF bitch is trying to set Kit up as a fuckin' rat, that's what!"

"Chill, Bobby, okay? I totally agree with you, man. Whoever set up the account was sloppy as hell. It's obvious that someone wanted to make it easy to track information back to the point of origin." Juice replied. "I'm guessing it was the ATF. They wanted us to find that connection between Jax's old lady and Wit Pro because that gash is betting on Jolene getting taken out by her own damn family."

"Ain't gonna happen." Opie spoke up.

"Damn right it won't because it's bullshit!" Piney practically roared. "There is no fuckin' way that angel—my drinking buddy—would turn on us, her family."

"You're damn straight about that." Jax said coldly. "Stahl is obviously too stupid—"

"And too desperate—" Opie added.

"To see that truth." Jax finished.

"Shit, brutha. Have you told Clay?" Chibs asked.

"No, and that's the last thing I want to do, which is why we're talking about this shit here and not at home with him."

As Jax scanned the faces of his brothers, he realized that there were two who had yet to speak, giving him enough pause to warrant that he address it. "Tig, Hap, you wanna share what's on your mind with us?" He said a little gruffly.

The Sergeant-at-Arms noted his President's cold blue eyes boring into him and shook his head. "Nah, brother. I'm cool."

"I don't think you are." Jax replied, his jaw clenched.

Tig sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Look you know I love Doll Face. It's just that—and don't have a friggin' cow on me, a'ight—even you have to admit that this is a really big red flag. As SAA, I wouldn't be doing my job if I didn't take a step back for a minute and seriously look at all the possibilities. I can't let myself be blinded by emotion when we're all potentially looking at 25-to-life."

Happy nodded in agreement. "Jax, you know I have much respect for you and for Clay, but you also know how I operate, brother. I can't automatically write this Intel off as bullshit. There's just too much at stake here and I have no tolerance for faithless bitches who turn on the Club."

Opie was eyeing his brother cautiously, ready to pull his ass back as Jax clenched and unclenched his fists.

"SAMCRO learned the hard way five years ago that NO ONE is above reproach. Kyle Hobart was a rat and all the proof we needed to patch him out was that ATF guy's business card in his wallet." Tig continued.

"But when confronted with the evidence, brutha, Hobart confessed." Chibs reminded Tig.

Tig nodded and agreed. "Yeah, he did."

"Then we owe Kit the same damn courtesy, the opportunity to hear what we got and to defend herself." Bobby said adamantly.

Happy shook his head. "We don't owe her shit." Jax's jaw clenched even tighter and Opie could almost feel the rage rolling off his friend. "I know it's not what you want to hear right now, but my loyalty belongs to my brother and the Club. Any courtesy extended to your old lady is a by-product of that."

Seeing Jax on the brink of unleashing his shit on Happy, Tig interrupted. "Listen, man. This is your old lady, the mother of your son, and First 9 progeny we're talking about here. We all know it's extremely unlikely that Jolene's a rat, but we need to handle this shit right. We have to turn every stone, beat every bush and fully exonerate her beyond the shadow of a doubt. And you need to leave emotion out of this, Jax. The last thing we need is for the leadership of the mother charter to be called into question. Trust me, that shit will only open the door to a whole new kind of anarchy that could ultimately fracture a Club."

Looking around the table at his brothers, Jax could see that Tig's and Happy's statements had made an impact. What they needed to realize was that they had made an impact on him as well.

As he had watched his old lady stress over the wire transfer earlier this afternoon, Jax knew what she was really thinking. Jolene knew she was being used by the ATF against the Club and, more importantly, she knew that deep down the Club would know that too. But she also knew that, in spite of it all being a set up, her ties to the Club would ultimately mean nothing to Jax's brothers. Her past with the Club would mean nothing as well and her loyalty would be called into question.

I know it's nothing personal, baby, she had said to Jax. She understood the nature of the beast and couldn't hold it against any of them.

Jax had known that it was only a matter of time before he was tested in his new role as Acting President. He had just never considered to what extreme the balance of his loyalties to his old lady and his Club would be stretched.

"I've known Jolene almost her entire life. Setting aside the love I know we have for each other, I know she loves SAMCRO and each and everyone one of you at this table like family. She is not a rat. I am so convinced of that fact that I will put my patches and my own neck on the line." Jax declared as he made eye contact with both Happy and Tig. "Prove me wrong and you can patch me out however you see fit—but not before I kill her myself."

The silence in the Chapel was deafening.

"So what's the plan?" Happy's gravelly voice suddenly rang out. "Because I am all kinds of ready to slowly gut this ATF bitch like a fish to get at the truth."

With all eyes now trained on him, Jax took a moment to rein in the husband and father in him and let the Acting President of SAMCRO take over.

"If anybody is going to end up in a cell next to Lenny for killing a Fed, it's going to be me." Jax replied fiercely. "But if my imprisonment could be avoided, I'm open to suggestions because nobody is going down for this shit."

And that includes my old lady and unborn son.

"With the leverage Jo's holding over Stahl's head, I have to believe that she was planning for the Club to stumble on the wire transfer through a third-party behind Jo's back. Your old lady just beat 'em to the punch." Opie said.

"Government red tape is a bitch." Half Sack heard the words tumble out of his mouth before he even realized he had been thinking them.

Every patch at the table turned to look directly at him.

Shit! Jax had probably invited him to the table just to listen, not open his mouth and stick his foot in it.

"Anything else you wanna add?" Jax asked.

Half Sack swallowed the nut-sized lump in his throat. "In a way, I was just agreeing with Ope."

"And?"

"Well, I was thinking that if Jolene just found out about the pay-off today, considering how the federal government operates, it's possible that the ATF hasn't caught wind yet. And even if they know she knows, a chain of command still has to be followed all the way to the top brass and God knows there's a fuckin' form to fill out for every step of the way. The government is real big on following protocol and every branch operates using the same playbook. It's definitely possible that since this operation has already been set in motion, it's gonna take tons of red tape to muddle through before it's called to a halt. I've seen it happen dozens of times. Either way, I guarantee Stahl's plan is still in motion and she will use a third-party source to break the news to the Club, implicating your old lady and leaving no trace back to the ATF."

Once again, everyone at the table was stunned into silence.

"How da hell do you know all dat, Private One-Nut?" Chibs finally asked. Impressed, he was seeing his former Prospect in a new light.

"It was actually 'Specialist One-Nut'," Half Sack replied with a half smile. "I was part of the 75th Regiment before I lost one of my balls to an IED in Afghanistan."

"You?" Tig sputtered, the shock clear on his face. "You were Special Ops? An Airborne-fucking-Ranger?"

Half Sack nodded. "Yes, sir."

In spite of the seriousness of the situation, Jax couldn't help but grin. "Good shit!"

"How come we're only hearing about this now, asshole?" Piney questioned, he too being quite impressed.

"Uh, no one asked." Half Sack replied.

"Congratulations!" Bobby said sarcastically. "I'm sure you'll fill in the gaps on your fall from grace some other time, but right now we need to work to contain this shit ASAP. We can't have word spreading to other charters. If any of our brothers get too antsy, they may take matters into their own hands. Kit needs protection until we make our move against this bitch." He made the effort to look directly at Happy and Tig as he spoke.

"And what move is that?" Juice asked, looking at his former sponsor for guidance.

"I don't know yet." Jax replied, honestly deadlocked on how to play the next move.

"This is a lot of shit to consider right now, bro." Opie opined. "I say we all sleep on it and meet again tomorrow."

Grateful that everyone seemed to be on the same page and in agreement, Jax slammed the gavel down and ended the meeting.

As his brothers quickly exited the Chapel and headed straight for the bar, Bobby grabbed his Pres by the arm and sat him down at a table in a far corner of the Main Room. Pouring two generous glasses of whiskey, Bobby plopped one down in front of Jax.

"Drink up, brother. You need it." As Jax downed the glass in one shot, Bobby looked at the young man. He could see the strong man he had become, but he could also see the faint lines of worry that were etched on his face. "Jax, you are gonna handle this shit. Of that, I have no doubt and you shouldn't either."

Jax rubbed his face with his hands and, looking at the older, shaggy-haired man, sighed. "I know I can be strong for the Club and I can handle my shit when the going gets tough, but this is my old lady, Bobby. I just got her back and I'm not gonna lose her again."

"Good. You keep thinking that way. And that stuff Hap and Tig said in there had to be said. They wouldn't be looking out for their own if they didn't, but what you need to realize, Jax is that Jolene is one of their own. The Tacoma Killer talks a big game, and he always follows through, but the fact is no one at that table believes that Kit would sell out the Club any more than we do. Targeting your old lady was the smartest move Stahl could make and, because of that, it was also the stupidest." Bobby explained.

Jax chuckled bitterly. "How can it be both, Bobby? Stahl is gunning for my girl. She wants her dead and what better way to guarantee that—aside from pulling the trigger her-own-goddamned-self—than to brand her a fuckin' rat?"

Bobby nodded. "Stahl's no different than anybody else who thinks we're all just a bunch of inbred Neanderthals. She probably bet the house that we would turn on Kit and rip her to shreds, hoping that by getting rid of her, Kit's Intel on Stahl would die along with her. To the world, we're nothing but a bunch of ex-con outlaw bikers, but within the walls of this Clubhouse, we're family, brother and family looks out for each other. All Stahl accomplished was lighting a fire in my gut. I know she lit one in yours, too. She pissed us off enough that instead of signing Jolene's death warrant, that government whore just signed her own. She didn't just poke one overprotective bear of an old man, she poked a fuckin' cave full of bears and believe me, Stahl's gonna regret the day she ever came after my Kit."

Jax smiled. Getting up from his seat, he wrapped his arms around Bobby and gave him a backslapping hug. "You got that shit right!"

"Yo Jax!" Half Sack called out from the bar. "Your prepay's ringing."

Jax sauntered over to the bar to retrieve his phone from the cigar box. Seeing a familiar number, he picked it up. "Hello, Luke."

"Hello, Jackson." Jax noted right away that Luke's tone of voice was not overly friendly and lacked a bit of warmth. In fact, it was downright chilling. "We need to set a meet."

"We have one scheduled for two days from now when we pick up our next shipment—" Jax started, but was abruptly cut off.

"I know, but we need to meet sooner, like right now." Luke insisted. "Jimmy O is stateside and he needs to talk to you, in person. There's a problem with the shipment."

As Jax's back stiffened, those within arm's distance noted the change in his body language and stopped what they were doing. "All right," Jax drawled. "Where and when?"

"Haney's Pub in Galt. ASAP."

"Fine." Jax ended the call. "I think we have a situation brewing." Calling his brothers to the bar, Jax quickly filled them in on his call with Luke.

"Did he say what kind of a problem?" Tig questioned and Jax shook his head.

"Oh shyte! That doesna' sound good, brutha," Chibs replied.

"No, it doesn't." Jax responded. "Piney, hold down the fort. Everyone else—you too, Half Sack—let's ride. Let's see what this Irish prick wants."

As Jax tucked his prepay into his cut and led the way out of the Clubhouse, he felt his stomach clench.

I've got a feeling that Stahl is just the tip of the fuckin' iceberg.

Galt was a small city bordered between the counties of Sacramento and San Joaquin. Despite the fact that it was only six square miles, less than a third of the size of Charming, it boasted a population of 25,000 residents, 10,000 more than Charming. It had a fair number of bars, and Haney's Pub was one of them.

Pulling in front of the bar, which quite proudly displayed its Irish affiliations with large green clovers on the outside of the building, the Sons of Anarchy made an impressive sight as they lined up their bikes.

"Tig, Chibs, Opie, Bobby—with me. The rest of you, keep your heads up." Jax ordered.

Tig, taking the safety off his Glock, holstered it and took point in front of Jax, his cold eyes carefully scanning the bar through the porthole window on the door before allowing his President to enter.

Walking into the bar, the first thing Jax noticed was the eerie silence. It was very quiet, too quiet, considering that there were six men waiting for them. At a glossy leather banquette across the room sat the debonair Irishman who had requested the Sons' presence—Jimmy O'Phelan, and sitting next to him was Luke Moran.

However, unlike the charismatic greeting Clay and Jax had been treated to during their previous meetings with the Irish, O'Phelan had an unpleasant smirk on his face and a hard glint in his eyes. His demeanor was anything but welcoming and Jax cursed his gut instinct for always being right on the money.

This meeting's already turned to shit even before it's begun.

"Jackson," Jimmy O remained seated, exhaling smoke from his cigarette as he spoke. "Is that your new VP?" He nodded his head towards Opie.

"That's right." Jax replied. "Opie Winston, Jimmy O'Phelan."

Opie nodded at the silent man and slid into the banquette first, followed by Jax.

Jimmy O cut right to the chase. "I'm afraid that you have a bit of a problem, my friend."

"So Luke said." Jax replied as he lit a cigarette.

"Tell me, Jackson. How's your old lady doing these days?"

Jax looked unwaveringly into Jimmy O's cold blue eyes. "She's fine."

Jimmy O threw his head back and laughed. "That she is, lad. A very fine-looking woman, indeed." He said and slightly nudged his head at his second-in-command.

Luke reached into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and carelessly tossed several pictures onto the table. Jax felt his shoulders stiffen as he saw that his old lady was the focus of each and every shot. The pictures were taken within the last several weeks and, quite obviously, without her knowledge. Unable to stop himself, Jax picked up one photo of Jolene walking down Main Street with Abel in her arms. The ones on the table were of his wife exiting her car in the parking lot at Excelsior Prep, leaving the house with Neeta, and walking Chopper at night by herself. Jax threw the photo back onto the table.

"I can certainly see and appreciate the attraction. What is she, 5'5" and 115 lbs.? I bet 3 or 4 of those are in tits alone, eh?" Jimmy O leered. "She's a prime piece of ass, no doubt and it's quite a shame, actually. She's just too damn beautiful to be a fuckin' rat!" He growled.

Without taking his eyes off of Jimmy O, Opie was literally marveling at his brother's self-control. Jax took the blow Jimmy had just delivered in stride, without a change in his demeanor. Opie was sure, however, that Jax was envisioning himself leaping across the table, yanking Jimmy O's guts out through his nose and strangling him with it.

"What are you talking about, Jimmy?" Jax was surprised at how calm his voice sounded.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about, laddie!" The RIRA soldier roared as he pointed a finger at Jax. Not one to lose his cool so easily, Jimmy O took a moment to collect himself and sipped from the glass of the soda water sitting in front of him. "If you didna know, my apologies as I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I have received word that your old lady has been funneling information to the fuckin' ATF."

"That's a crock of shit!" Bobby said, jumping out of his seat to stride towards Jimmy. Before he could get halfway across the room, however, one of Jimmy O's men pulled a Glock and aimed it dead center at Bobby's chest.

"I suggest you go no further." The man hissed.

"Bobby!" Jax eyed his brother. "Relax." Nodding at Jax, Bobby Elvis took his time backing up and sat down again.

Jimmy O smiled broadly. "Too bad you don't have your old lady on the same short leash as you do your brothers, Jax. Can you make him roll over, too?" He sneered.

Turning back to Jimmy, Jax leaned back in the booth. "I don't know where you're getting your Intel from, but I sure hope you're not paying for it because it's bullshit."

"That's where you're wrong. It's no bullshit." Jimmy took a drag of his cigarette and blew the smoke into Jax's face. "See, before taking on the task of fundraising for the Cause here in NorCal, I gathered as much Intel as possible to protect not only the organization, but my own ass as well. McKeavey was an excellent soldier, once upon a time, but spending so much time in sunny California was making him soft and, dare I say, sloppy. I just had to know how much information the federal authorities had on our operation with the Sons before taking over. It took some time and a lot of money straight out of my own pocket, but I was able to buy myself my very own mole, who happens to work out of the ATF's Stockton office. I give him the cheese, and he feeds me Intel."

"It's true, Jax." Luke chimed in. "It's very sad, but your little rat has been feeding the ATF info about our business."

Jax smirked as he shook his head. "My old lady's father is Clay Morrow, a member of the First 9. This shit's in her blood and she's 110% loyal to the Club and to me. She's the mother of my son and I should cut the fuckin' tongue out of your goddamn head for talking shit about her."

Jimmy O smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "That's mighty big talk for such a young man. Maybe you're letting the role of Acting President go to your head because you and I both know that's not going to happen."

"Your old lady may be Clay's daughter," Luke continued. "But that didn't stop her from accepting over $200K from the ATF, and it certainly doesn't negate the reports proving that she's been steadily feeding sensitive information to the ATF for months."

"Sorry, boyo." Jimmy O grinned at the quietly seething man sitting across from him. "But I'm afraid that little slut of yours has been whoring herself out behind your back to that ATF gash, who's probably rocking a bigger dick than yours, eh?"

One minute, Jax was sitting relaxed and clam. The next, he was lunging across the table going for Jimmy O's throat. The sudden melee that broke out was fast and furious as the Sons struggled to pull their Acting President off of Jimmy O. Opie, finally managing to get Jax into a strangle hold, pulled him away and plopped him back down into his seat.

Jimmy O smoothed down the collar of his custom-made blazer and rubbed the side of his jaw where Jax's fist had managed to connect. "I suggest you keep your President in check, VP, before I kill him myself here and now."

"Unless you produce these so-called reports, I'm more inclined to let him loose on your sorry ass." Opie quickly retorted.

"I'm afraid I can't. The fact is I've already sent all documentation in my possession by courier to the Kings. Let's cut the bullshit, shall we, Jackson? The reason I called this meeting is to let you know that our 25-year business relationship is on a very slippery slope. Whether or not we continue doing business is now up to the Council to decide, but I must say, it's not looking good." Jimmy O advised. "Our organization has never been this close to being infiltrated by the Feds. Even though my mole couldn't get access to everything your woman spilled, what he did provide was enough to convince me that doing further business with the Sons is not a risk we should take. Therefore, I postponed delivery of your next shipment until I hear from the Kings. Your old lady is a liability and, as show of good-faith, I suggest that's a wrong you need to make right and fast, or I may just recommend to the Council that we permanently cut ties with the Sons."

"Based on what?" Jax glowered at Jimmy. "On a handful of reports that may or may not exist—I don't really know because I haven't seen them—and some money you claim was paid to my wife?" He scoffed. "What's up your sleeve, Jimmy? First you try to jack up the price on us. We wouldn't bend all the way, so now you're using phantom evidence provided by alleged moles to condemn an innocent in order to sever ties with the Sons. Something's rubbing me the wrong way and it's not just you jumping to conclusions and labeling my wife a rat."

Jimmy O stood up, and his second-in-command followed suit. "I'm sorry to hear you say that. Trying to turn the tables on me just proves that you are sadly lacking as the leader of SAMCRO. I shouldn't be surprised, really. After all, what can be expected from a man who cannot keep his own house in order?"

Jax stood up as well, breathing hard. "I'm not going to let this go, Jimmy. This shit is far from over."

"I don't give a bloody shyte what you do!" Jimmy hollered, his accent thickening in his rage. "Quite frankly, Jax, once the Kings get their hands on the Intel I've sent, there's only one possible outcome, so I suggest the Sons start looking for a new way to earn."

"Jimmy's right, Jax." Luke said. "There's no way for SAMCRO to justify the fact that it's been bleeding info to the ATF for over eighteen months. Your old lady is responsible for ending our business with the Sons. You need to remember that." Luke pointed a fat finger at Jax.

"And you need to remember that the next time you see me, it'll be your last."

Jimmy O laughed as he headed towards the exit door with his men falling in step behind him. Turning back, he launched one final parting shot at Jax.

"That honey pot of yours just cost your brothers their livelihood. Why don't you go home, take one last ride and fuck her good and hard for me before slitting her throat, eh?"

Jolene yawned so long and hard she thought she felt her jaw snap and crack. Moving from one of the couches, where she was dangerously close to falling asleep, Jolene sat down at one of the tables in the Main Room right across from Filthy Phil. She was probably as clueless as her curly-haired companion, but Jolene couldn't escape the feeling that some seriously demented shit was brewing for Jax to yank her tired pregnant-ass out of bed.

She could really use a shot of liquid courage right about now. Had it not been for Lil' Peanut riding on board, Jolene would have wrestled the bottle of Patron away from Piney and downed half of its contents in one gulp.

Earlier in the evening, Jolene had just fallen asleep when her prepay went off. Bleary eyed, she managed to pull herself together when she heard her old man telling her to get the Prospect and head down to the Clubhouse. Quickly throwing on a pair of cargo pants and a t-shirt, Jolene grabbed Phil and literally snuck out of the house, an amazing feat in itself considering his heavy footfalls.

Now, as she waited anxiously for her old man, Jolene once again questioned Piney, who was sitting at his customary seat at the bar.

"Are you sure you don't know what's going on, old man?" She asked, biting her pinky nail down to the quick.

"I said no such thing. What I said was that you need to wait for your old man to get here and fill you in." Piney grumbled.

Jolene rubbed her head. Her heart was beating rapidly in her chest.

Okay, what I need to do is calm the fuck down, Jolene chastised herself. The last thing I need is to end up at St. Thomas tonight.

"Can I get you something, Teach—I mean, Mrs. T?" Filthy Phil still had a hard time remembering he wasn't in high school any more.

Jolene smiled at the earnest young man. "Actually, a bottle of water would be nice. Thanks Phil."

The lumbering teenager walked over to the bar and pulled an ice cold bottle from the fridge and returned to the table. As Jolene opened the bottle and guzzled down half of its contents, Phil said, "You feel better now?"

"Yes, I do." Placing the bottle on the table, Jolene sighed.

She wasn't being exactly truthful. She felt sick to her stomach and, for the first time in recent weeks, she knew it wasn't the baby. The fact that Jax had pulled her out of bed certainly didn't suggest that it was all unicorns and rainbows in the SAMCRO Clubhouse. Other than Piney and the Prospect, no one else was around. Jax had given Piney the word to clear out the Clubhouse of all the hang-arounds, sweetbutts and croweaters. That, more than anything, spoke volumes to Jolene.

Hearing the rumbling of many bikes pouring into the lot, Jolene got up and ran outside to meet Jax and his brothers, and suddenly found herself locked in the strong embrace of her old man. Pulling away from him and seeing the grim look on his face, she realized that the shit had or was about to hit the fan.

"What is it, baby? What happened?" She asked anxiously.

Jax grabbed her face and kissed her deeply, taking her breath away.

"Let's go inside, babe." Jax replied. Pulling her into the Clubhouse behind him, Jax made a beeline for the Chapel. To Jolene's surprise, his brothers followed right behind them.

Jolene sat in Tig's chair to Jax's right, not quite believing she was actually awake. What she had been made privy to during the last thirty minutes had her convinced that she was dreaming with her eyes open, having a nightmare she couldn't force herself to wake up from. She was overwhelmed with anger and fear, but nothing compared to the blazing hot hatred burning in the pit of her stomach.

Stahl wants me dead!

Jolene had known that the bitch was hanging around Charming for a reason. Now, it seemed that Stahl's plan was coming to a head and had literally blown up on the Club. Fighting to keep her pregnant emotions in check, Jolene was suddenly pushed to tears as she was overcome by her feelings of guilt. Her heart ached as she realized that she had led Stahl right to SAMCRO's doorstep and because of it, the Club was losing a business 25 years in the making. Finding herself in the RIRA's crosshairs by being hung out as a rat as well was just the icing on her shit cake.

With her head down, Jolene allowed her tears to fall onto her balled up fists on her lap as her slight shoulders shook with her silent sobs. Feeling a gentle hand smooth down her hair pulled back into a loose ponytail, Jolene almost jumped out of her chair as she looked up and to her left. With bloodshot eyes, Jolene watched as Tig pulled out a red bandana from his back pocket and handed it to her.

"Here you go, Doll Face." He said in a near whisper. Nodding her gratitude, Jolene used the kerchief to wipe away her tears. "Better?" Tig asked gently and Jolene nodded.

Looking over at her old man, Jolene felt her heart break all over again. He looked so torn and on the verge of tears himself.

Jolene cleared her throat and shook her head. "I'm so sorry, Jax. I shoulda—I never should've come back to Charming."

Jax flinched, reacting as if she had slapped him in the face. Grabbing her hand, he pulled her towards him and kissed her fingers curled tight around his palm.

With his moist blue eyes boring into hers, Jax shook his head. "Don't ever say that again, Jo. I need you to believe that we're going to see our way out of this, okay, darlin'?"

Sucking in the last of her tears, Jolene nodded. Borrowing a page from Gemma's book, Jolene sat up straight in her chair, determined to be the strongest old lady she could be, the strong old lady Jax needed her to be. She reminded herself that the men surrounding her at the table were her family. Her entire life practically revolved around the MC and before they moved any further, Jolene knew she had to make it completely clear to them where her loyalties lie and where they would always be.

"This is a fuckin' mess." Jolene finally managed to find her voice. Turning to Jax, Jolene squeezed the big, slightly calloused hand that still tenderly held hers. "Baby, you know that I would never—" She started, but was interrupted by Bobby Elvis.

"You need to shut your mouth, little girl." He said gruffly. Jolene's eyes widened and her heart was pounding double-time in her chest. "If you're even thinking of trying to convince us that you're not a rat, then you've lost your damn mind. Just the idea that you would even think that we need to be convinced that this bullshit about you turning on your family's not true is ridiculous, so let's not even waste time talking about it."

Jolene met Bobby's eyes and smiled as he mouthed "I love you, Kit" at her. Forcing herself make and keep eye contact with each of her husband's brothers, Jolene saw not just the love and concern they had for her, but also the stone cold determination to see her through this. Once again, Jolene was fighting a losing battle to keep her emotions in check—damn hormones!

"Bobby's right. What we need to focus on is proving Jolene's innocence to this Irish shithead before he convinces the Kings to drop the Sons like a bad habit." Juice suggested.

"There's a lot more to this picture than what we're seeing." Jax said grimly.

"The timing's off." Opie replied and Jax nodded.

"With a mole inside the ATF, why would Jimmy sit on this info all this time and only spring it on us now?" Happy asked.

"I think you hit it on the head back at Haney's, Jax. They wanted to squeeze more money out of SAMCRO. We played hardball and wouldn't bow down to their bullshit." Tig commented.

"We have an exclusive deal with the Irish. Nobody but SAMCRO has access to their top of the line hardware. You want the best, you come to the Sons." Jax explained. "Just like SAMTAZ wants to cut into our business, so did the Irish because we always turn a profit."

"Maybe he was holding onto the Intel as leverage." Chibs suggested.

"Nah, my gut tells me that since we wouldn't fall into step with his increase, Jimmy O decided to push us out and bring someone else in. He sat on the Intel because he couldn't afford to get rid of us before he had someone else new on board and ready to deal. He played this exactly the way he knew he had to." Jax said.

"But in the grand scheme of things, we're the big fish in the pond that is NorCal. Who can Jimmy O possibly have in mind to replace the Sons?" Bobby asked.

"All the other local MCs are busy with the H and pussy trade. None of them run guns or have a clue how to run the gun business." Piney said.

"I didn't say it had to be another MC." Jax stated.

Tig and Happy looked at each other with wide eyes. "The Russians!" They said in unison.

"Putlova?" Opie asked incredulously.

"You know of any other big fish in the Northwest?" Jax said.

Jolene watched as the patches at the Redwood table went back and forth exchanging, analyzing, and picking apart theories. Most of what was said went over her head, mainly because she was only half listening. The less she knew the better.

Jax wolf-whistled to get everyone's attention. "The 'why' is important, brothers, but not nearly as important as proving to the Kings that my old lady is not dirty. That's the only way we're gonna be able to salvage our relationship with the RIRA." Jax explained. "I have some ideas as to how we can do that, but right now we need to deal with the bigger problem. Even though I know Jimmy O's using this shit to achieve his own ends, if he's telling the truth, the ATF got the Intel on our business with the Irish from somewhere. Chances are, we do have a fuckin' rat."

"Shit, bro. You need to get the fuck out of my head because I was thinking the same thing." Opie said as he pulled out a cigarette, looked at Jolene, and then tucked it back into the pocket of his cut. "It was something Luke said and he stuck his foot in it."

"Yeah, he did." Jax nodded. "And his timing was way fuckin' off."

Not knowing if she was meant to keep quiet as they discussed what amounted to Club business, Jolene decided she didn't give a shit anyway. "What did he say, baby?"

"I can quote the fat prick, darlin'," Jax replied. "He said 'There's no way for SAMCRO to justify the fact that it's been bleeding info to the ATF for over EIGHTEEN MONTHS'."

Jolene's hand flew to her mouth as she was about to bubble forth with hysterical laughter—damn hormones! "Eighteen months? And he accused me of being the rat?" She asked and Jax nodded. "I've only been home since last summer—"

"That's right!" Bobby agreed. "You came back just before Luann's funeral."

Jolene's eyes suddenly glazed over with what Jax was sure was bloodlust. "That filthy fuckin' whore! That cum-guzzling cocksucker!" She almost yelled.

"Yo, I didn't know Doll Face had Tourette's." Tig snarked.

Looking at her husband, Jolene said, "Jax, Jimmy O's right. You did have an old lady hanging around eighteen months ago, but it wasn't me."

"Wendy?" Bobby practically roared. "Goddamnit!"

"Oh shit, really? And we fuckin' let her back into the Clubhouse?" Juice shook his head.

"You know the fuckin' whore's gonna die, right?" Tig promised with a murderous glint in his crazy eyes.

"Like a lot." Happy agreed, the light in his eyes dancing merrily.

"It makes perfect sense as to why she would came back after I ran her ass out of town." Jax stated. Taking a moment to think, he suddenly slammed his fist onto the table, making his wife jump in her seat. "She needed a way in, so she hooked up with Huff, an officer of the Club, knowing we probably wouldn't be able to chase her away."

"Could that asshole be feeding her Intel?" Piney was incredulous.

"Probably not on purpose, Pop." Opie replied.

"Or maybe he is!" Tig exclaimed. "The way he's been pushing to get in on the assembly of our merch, they could be in on this shit together."

"Hey, I may not be his biggest fan, but he's still a brother." Jax said. "We need to proceed with extreme caution. Not only do we need proof that will exonerate Jo to the Kings, but any patch stupid enough to leak information, whether on purpose or not, needs to be dealt with."

"We need to move fast, Jax. Find this bitch, pick her up, question her, and then gut her!" Tig said.

"Whoa! Slow down. You really think that the ATF isn't keeping close tabs on her? We need absolute proof that it was her to pass along to the Kings in order to get our business back. Then we'll deal with Wendy without it leading back to us." Jax replied.

As Jax leaned back in his chair, Jolene couldn't help but beam with pride. She had always known that Jax had what it took to lead the Club, but seeing him in action was something else altogether. It was clear that he had the respect and support of the men sitting with him at the table. She also thought about Jax's father, the soft spoken man she remembered from her childhood days. His love for his brothers and his family had been clearly evident on his face, just like his son.

JT would be so proud of you, baby, Jolene smiled to herself.

"So what do we do now, brutha?" Chibs asked.

Jolene's heart quivered with anxiety when she heard her old man's reply.

"We talk to Clay."