Bailey 'The Bullet' Teller

.15.

"We've taken every precaution to stay out of A.T.F.'s crosshairs." Clay spoke from the head of the Chapel table. "No busts, no investigations for five years." He reminded. "We don't know this guy's here for us."

"Hale flagged Bluebird as our gun warehouse." Jax pointed out. "He's pissed off we made Unser crush the case, and he called in the feds. I think it's gotta be about us."

"Be my guess." Bobby agreed.

"And we've got a garage full of 25 to life." Tig stated.

"Any legit place we store those guns is a straight line back to us." Clay huffed.

"Can't Rosen get us some storage short term?" Bobby asked.

"He's killing Bluebird, man. He's setting up a dummy corp. It takes a few weeks." Clay spoke.

"We got that call from Jury last week." Jax reminded Clay. The older man sighed and gestured for Jax to tell the rest of the table. "Mayans pressing the Devil's Tribe to pay a vig, to keep running book and pussy out of Nevada." He explained.

"Maybe he can help." Bailey suggested. But Clay looked at her like she had lost her mind, to which Jax chuckled.

"Look, maybe I do head to Indian Hills, offer Jury some advice. Then he offers our AKs a safe house." Jax chuckled.

"No." Juice shook his head slightly. "No. That's a risky ride, brother. Northern Nevada is Mayan territory. They're still looking to settle the score from our little raid." He reminded, trying to hide the fact that Bailey was the reason he thought it was bad idea. He knew damn well that she would get sent on that run.

"The Mayans know that the Tribe's a brother club. Part of asking for that vig is about shitting on us." Bobby pointed out. "They knew Jury would call. They're gonna be watching."

"That's what I'm saying. That's why just me, Bullet and you go, under the radar." Jax smiled at Fat Elvis.

"We'll bring the guns in the same way." Bailey shrugged.

"And you think you could bring Jury on board?" Clay asked Jax and Bailey.

"Shit. Our dad saved his ass in Tây Ninh. He owes the Tellers a chit." Jax said cockily. "Look, man. We're not gonna go cowboy." He reassured.

"I promise." Bailey grinned as she ran her finger in an 'X' over her heart. Clay couldn't help but scoff slightly, he'd seen that smile before, heard that promise before.

"Promise." Bobby reassured a little more believably.

"Low profile. I don't want no wetbacks knowing we crossed into NV." Clay warned as he pointed at the three Son's. "They pull this off, I want you and Juice driving the barrels." He informed Tig.

"Done. We'll need something big though." Tig nodded.

"I'll call Unser." Clay sighed as he hit the gavel.

Bailey smiled excitedly at Bobby and Jax as they stood to leave. Jax told her to go get her bag together, and then Clay shouted 'vest' as she was walking into the bar to head upstairs. Her door was wide open as she packed her run bag, completely unaware that Juice was watching her gather spare clothes, bullets, toothbrush and a little first aid kit.

"Need anythin' from the house?" Juice asked with a small smile and soft tone. When she turned around with a wide smile on her face he was almost certain his heart skipped a beat.

"No, thanks. I got it." She chimed.

"When you gotta go?" Juice chuckled.

"An hour." Bailey shrugged. "But just wanna change and I'm good to go."