"Ya ready?" Connor Macmanus asked his twin.

"Aye," Murphy replied as he flicked away the remainder of his cigarette. They walked in silence down the dark street, stopping just outside of a shady alleyway in downtown Boston. They had heard of a supposed drug deal going down in this location, and as they peeked around the corner to investigate, they knew the information was legit. Several men were huddled together, whispering quietly to one another. One of them produced a small package from his coat pocket, and exchanged it to another man for a wad of bills.

"Jesus Christ," Connor muttered as he drew his two suppressed Berettas from their holsters. "Bunch o' fuckin' lowlives." He looked over to his brother, who had since drawn his own set of suppressed pistols, and whispered "Let's be quick about this, aye?" Murphy gave his brother a reassuring nod, and the irishmen walked side by side into the alley toward their victims.

It wasn't difficult. The men were unarmed, which made it all too easy for the twins. The bullets began to fly, and in moments it was over. One man tried to run, but he wasn't quick enough. Each twin fired a round into either of his legs, sending him tumbling to the ground. They grabbed him by his collar and pulled him to his knees, each placing a pistol to the back of his head. They pulled their rosaries from the insides of their coats, and began reciting their infamous prayer. "And shepards we shall be," they began.

The drug dealer wept, begging them to spare his life. But they ignored his plea and continued. "For Thee my Lord, for Thee. Power hath descended forth from Thy hand, that our feet may swiftly carry out Thy command. So we shall flow a river forth to Thee. And teaming with souls shall it ever be. In nomine Patriis et Filli, et Spiritus Sancti." And as their prayer concluded, the brothers each fired a round into the back of the man's skull, silencing him forever.

Unaware that they were being watched, Connor and Murphy proceeded to fold the deceased criminals' arms over their chests, placing pennies in each of their eyes, as was their ritual. When they finished, the brothers turned to leave, but were intercepted by a figure who stepped from the shadows. "Quite the performance boys," the stranger said, clapping softly. "Couldn't have done it better myself." The twins, alarmed, each raised a pistol in defense. The stranger wore a black hoodie and black pants.

"Who the fuck are you?" Murphy asked angrily. The hooded man ignored the question, looking around the alley at the corpses.

"Yes, very nice work. I wonder," he trailed off, and grew quiet. Now it was Connor's turn to speak.

"Answer teh fuckin' question 'fore me an' me brother fill your arse with holes." This made the man smile under his hood.

"No need for that now, gentlemen. I'm not here to fight. In fact, you did me a favor by dealing with these men. I've been tracking one of them for quite some time," he looked to one of the bodies and frowned, but quickly continued. "He was in league with some very bad people." Murphy scoffed.

"Teh fuck is tha' supposed ta mean? Who teh fuck are ya? You a cop or somethin'?" At that, the stranger chuckled.

"I'm certainly not a cop. Let's just say, I work for an organization that values talented individuals such as yourselves. We work in the shadows, doing very much the same thing you two have taken it upon yourselves to do." The brothers lowered their guns, only slightly, and exchanged quizzical glances.

"Teh fuck are ya goin' on about? Explain yerself," Connor demanded.

A/N: Revised to make reading easier. Enjoy, and please leave me a review.