They had all clung to the patch, to each other, like some sort of lifeline. Bishop could remember the way they had banded together, connected and formed their brotherhood. “Things ain’t that way anymore though,” he remarked quietly, his mind drifting to the people he felt the MC could trust now. People he sat around a table at in the Capitol and discussed just how they were going to bring Austin back to life. Vic was right, the patch had meant something more, or something different back then than it did today. “Think the rogues shone one hell of a light on that fact. We got guys who’re still looking to burn this place ot the ground,” Bishop didn’t want to think that, but truthfully he thought they would be naive not to think that there weren’t more men like the rogues just waiting in the wings.
As much as subjecting their men to a screening process seemed invasive or something that could breed discourse and distrust among the MC. Bishop also knew they might be shooting themselves in the foot if the didn’t do just that. “Much as I hate the idea, it probably ain’t smart to assume we know what they’re all thinking,” All it would take were him and Vic sitting down with the guys, maybe one on one or in small groups and sussing out what their feelings might be. Bishop realized than that their formers roles played into this well. Vic’s job had once been to make sure every person that walked through that gate was worthy of being in Dog Park and willing to follow their rules, and Bishop had once been to sit back and observe, playing counsel to Rodeo and the officers when they had needed it.
“We’ve had two officers turn rat on us,” Bishop added, frowning as he spoke. “We’d be stupid if we didn’t question the loyalty of the men, and woman, sitting around the table now.”