Chapter 2
Walfisch
"Fuck yeah we'll do it!" Murphy said with his heavy Irish drawl.
"A fuckin job! Yippee!" Connor cheered.
"Got it," Murphy said taking note of the name of the bar that the Bund boss drank at. "Thanks Greenly."
Connor looked at his brother. With this simple look, he was able to inquire about the mission.
"A bar," Murphy said.
"Ahh, so we'll have to get information fer this one," Connor nodded.
"Aye. These are Neo-Nazis, apparently," Murphy added.
"Fuckers! Nice! Can't wait ta do 'em in!" Connor said punching the air.
"Shall we go tonight?" Murphy asked.
"The sooner, the better!" Connor replied.
"Tonight it tis then," Murphy picked up is suppressed Beretta 92f Pistol. "Let's get ready!"
The brothers stood in the cold, wrapped as tight as possible in their matching, black pea coats. They both had lit cigarettes in their mouth, providing them some comfort. The bar across the street was raucous with noise and excitement. Inside was Lukas Wagner.
"Fuckin bored out of my mind," Murphy shivered.
"Fuckin January. But was need ta keep our minds in the game. Don't lose sight of the objective," Connor warned.
"Yeah, yeah," Murphy took a long drag of his cigarette.
Two hours into the stake out, Murphy noticed the door of the bar opening, and Wagner stepping out. "No fuckin way!"
"Wha?" Connor perked up.
"He's leavin alone!" Murphy cheered.
"Doesn't anybody know that there's Saints on the loose?" Connor said playfully swatting Murphy's shoulder.
They followed Wagner by walking on the opposite side of the street, so they would not attract his attention. When he turned right down another sidewalk, they were forced to cross the street and follow him old fashion style.
Once they were sure that there was no one else in site they ran up close behind him. He turned to face them. "What do you want?" He asked with a heavy German accent.
Murphy smashed Wagner's head with the butt of his gun. The German fell unconscious. The brothers then dragged him to a nearby alley. "Jesus fuckin Christ this is one fat fucker!" Murphy exclaimed.
"Lord's fuckin name!" Connor replied. "Now we have ta wait for the fucker to wake up. This is one fuckin long night!"
"Aye, one fuckin long night," Murphy sighed.
Smecker's phone rang. "What the fuck?" He said leaning out of bed and grabbing the receiver. "Hello?"
"Shit! Smecker, we're in fuckin deep shit!" Greenly's voice was hurried and frantic.
"What's wrong, Greenly? Just slow down and tell me what's wrong," Smecker said keeping his composure.
"The FUCKIN information is what's wrong! Lukas Wagner has connections with the Yakuza! They said that they're not going to let him out of their sight!" Greenly was screaming now. The roar of the engine in the background told Smecker that Greenly was speeding in his police cruiser.
Smecker thought for a moment. He did not see a problem at first. Then it dawned on him, "Shit! The MacManus's!"
"Yes, the fuckin MacManus's!" Greenly shouted.
"We need to find them! Where is the bar?" Smecker asked.
"That's where I'm headed right now! I'm going to try to head them off! We need to do two things: One, we need to get you down here to help me find the brothers, and two we need to call Dr. Lamb, let her know that she may have to help the brothers, tonight!" Greenly replied.
"Good thinking, Greenly. I'll give her a call, and then I'll drive to the bar. Where's the bar?" Smecker asked. Greenly told him the address and approximate direction of how to get there.
Smecker slammed the receiver down and immediately lifted it again. He had memorized Dr. Lamb's hospital number.
"Hello?" The voice on the other line was that of the young nurse that worked the reception desk.
"I need to talk to Dr. Lamb, it's the F.B.I. Agent!" Smecker said sternly.
"Dr. Lamb is off tonight, but I can put Dr. Piazzola on the phone," the nurse suggested.
"Fuck! No I need Dr. Lamb. What's her phone number at home?" Smecker asked.
"I'm sorry, I can't give that information out," the nurse replied calmly.
"Listen, I'm with the fucking F.B.I. You can give me the fucking number," Smecker repeated.
The nurse sighed, "All right, let me find it," The nurse came back on the line and told Smecker her home phone and her cell phone just in case she could not be reached at home.
"Thank you," Smecker said with false contentment. He instantly hung up the phone and picked it up again. He tried Dr. Lamb's cell phone, he did not bother with her home number.
"Hello?" Dr. Lamb's voice sounded tired, but worried.
"Dr. Lamb, it's Smecker," Smecker replied.
"Oh! Okay, do the boys need me?" She instantly said.
"They might," he said.
"I'll be at the hospital in five minutes and I'll stay there for the rest of the night and all of tomorrow!" She did not miss a beat.
"Mary, you are a saint!" Smecker smiled.
"No, it's not me who's the Saint. I just tend their wounds," she replied.
"Bless you, good night!" Smecker slammed the receiver down. He grabbed his coat and left his apartment. The bar was not too far from his home.
"I think he's waking up," Murphy said standing over their victim. They had tied his arms behind his back to keep him from fighting back.
"Good, I was afraid that ye had killed 'im," Connor replied.
"Fuck you two!" Wagner spat.
"We want to know some information. You are going ta tell us the information," Murphy said holding his pistol to Wagner's face.
"Mistake," Wagner smiled. As he said the two syllables, gunshots began to litter the small alley. The brothers' reflexes were good enough. They ducked behind the garbage container that they had leaned Wagner up against.
"What the fuck?" Murphy shouted.
Connor took a quick look around the corner. "Three Japanese guys walking towards the alley from across the street," Connor said managing to keep his adrenaline down. He cocked his pistol. "Ye ready?"
"Aye," Murphy nodded. They jumped out from behind the container and began firing. Their first few shots were random, but after two seconds their surroundings became known to them, and the positions of their assailants were clear. The next shots all hit the targets. The three Japanese mob men fell to the ground.
"Ye all right?" Connor asked.
"No," Murphy gasped. "I got hit."
"Wha?" Connor said turning to his brother. Murphy's green shirt under his pea coat was beginning to soak with blood in the abdomen. The crimson mixing with the green dye to make a dark, nameless color.
