After dinner, sitting in the front room of the rectory, the priest had gotten down to business, but not until he'd explained their family connection.

"I'm not really yer uncle, lads. I'm yer dad's cousin, once removed. But we're family, aye, an' that's what counts."

Then he'd lowered his voice.

"An' family, that's the reason I got yer pa ta bring yer 'ere. I am sure yer kno' dat London 'as always 'ad its gangs, and de mafia is as strong as ever. Recently, though, things 'ave gone ter a whole new level. There's a new guy headin' the Cornells, oyt in East London, de name af Marco. He ain't even British, though de Cornells used ter be so proud af their 'ome-grown 'eritage. Ah well, times change, aye?

"So, dis Marco, he's gone ter school with de big guns out in St Petersburg, an' he's built up a nice wee business in 'uman traffickin', and sum drug trade on de side. But his business 'as a twist. He doesn't jus' buy de lasses from Russia ter bring dem 'ere ter work in his brothels. He's found a completely new an' untapped niche behind the Iron Curtain. He kidnaps young girls, and sometimes lads, from 'here ter flog as sex slaves over dere ter the 'ighest bidder. An' de demand seems ter be risin' steadily.

"Marco's got connections wi' de Krays in Islington, that's de next borough over from 'ere. They've started snappin' up young'uns lef', roi an' centre roun' 'ere. Three lasses an' a ten-year-old boy 'ave gone missin' in de last six months from dis parish alone."

Murphy had been worrying at his thumb again, slouched in an armchair, seemingly lost in thought. But Connor knew that his brother had taken in every word, and could sense that Murphy was already committed to the cause. Mention of kids going missing usually did this to Murph, and Connor's heart swelled with love as he contemplated the beauty of his brother's soul.

"So yer want us ter finish dat Marco, an' his cronies," Murphy now said, then looked at Connor with so soft a look that it was at total odds with the death sentence he'd just uttered. Connor could feel a caress in his mind and knew that Murphy had sensed Connor's love for him welling up.

Uncle Diarmaid nodded. "Aye. It won't be easy, lads, I don't pretend it 'ill. Marco is well protected, an' I can't even tell yer much about 'im other dan what I've already said. Nobody knows where he is most af de time, an' I'm jiggered if I knew how he got de Krays ter cum along in his venture. Dem an' de Cornells have been blood enemies fer generations."

Connor finally spoke up. "Leave dat ter us, we'll find him, an' we'll put an end ter dis. We do need weapons, though. And some intel on how dis city works. If I hav' ter go on dat Tube again anytime soon there'll be blood."

"It's all arranged, lad, don't worry. Tomorrow you'll meet sum people who'll be able ter answer all yer questions. They'll also kit yer out. But now, I tink, yer two need some rest." He indicated Murphy who had curled up in his armchair, eyes almost closed. Connor sighed, and nudged his brother with his toes. Murphy jerked awake.

"Wasn't asleep, jist tinkin'..."

Connor got up. "Yeah, yeah. Cum on, bedtime."

The priest had opened the door and now called, "Martha, dear, can yer show de lads to their room?"

The dumpy little woman who had served them dinner reappeared and beckoned the twins to follow. Uncle Diarmaid clapped Connor on the back.

"Yer safe here, tonight. Nobody knows you're in de country, not yet. We'll 'ave ter find yer somewhere else ter stay when things heat up, but for now yer can sleep easy."

Connor would have liked to tell the priest that they had not slept easy, or very much at that, since all this had begun, but desisted. Their true life in Boston was too depressing a topic to share with a priest, even one who'd just hired them as hitmen.

-.-

There were two beds in the room they were shown, but these days they didn't even comment on that any more. As Connor was toeing off his boots Murphy was already throwing his jacket, shirt and trousers onto the second bed and was crawling under the covers before Connor had even unbuttoned his own shirt.

Connor brushed his teeth and splashed his face with water at the sink in the corner. He knew it was useless to remind Murphy to do the same. With Murphy this tired, Connor would have as much chance of getting the bedside cabinet to brush its teeth. Instead, he dried his face, turned off the light and crawled in next to his twin.

The moment Connor's head touched the pillow he had his arms full of Murphy, who these days seemed to be able to go to sleep only if he was nuzzled close enough to Connor to prevent him from breathing. Connor didn't mind particularly. There was not much they'd been able to enjoy in recent months apart from each other.

They'd tried to keep somewhat of a lid on it when their pa had been with them, but even then Connor couldn't remember a single morning when he hadn't woken up with Murphy sprawled all over him, even if they'd started out at opposite ends of the mattress.

Connor could also feel Murphy's sleepy thoughts threading through his mind. Murphy would spread out in there like he owned the place, and Connor had gotten so used to having Murphy in his head when he nodded off that he wasn't sure he'd get any sleep at all if his brother stopped doing this.

Now, however, through all the sleepiness and thoughtless drifting fragments of Murphy's, Connor could make out a fuzzy, drowsy thought he knew only too well. Before he could even make his mind up on whether this was a good or a bad idea Murphy's hand had already alighted on the waistband of Connor's underpants, and Connor gave an inward sigh. Once Murphy touched his already growing erection there'd be no getting away from the inevitable. And yep… there it was, a warm, gentle hand wriggling past fabric, taking Connor and starting slow, soft strokes.

"I tought yer were as good as asleep," Connor whispered into Murphy's hair.

Murphy sighed. "Almost. Jist 'elping yer relax, brother. If yer don't stop dat mind racing I won't be able ter sleep, neither." And his mental caresses seemed to add, Now stop talking, concentrate on my hand, and relax.

So that was what Connor did. Murphy continued with his ministrations, slowly, slowly bringing Connor close, but never all the way. Tuned into his mind Murphy got the same signals from Connor's nervous system as he did himself and knew exactly how far to tease without bringing climax, or frustration. And Connor felt his mind relaxing, felt his world shrink to just this bed, himself and Murphy, then to just Murphy's hand on his cock, then fade out as he fell into a deep sleep.