L' Angello Della Morte
By: Akecheta

Author's Note: Thank you to Devikins for the kind review and a very BIG thank you to Random Rose for beta-ing this chappy for me. God, I was going mad just trying to put my ideas out in this one! LOL! Anyways, this chapter has a bit of history on Lily and her associations (it is certainly going to come in handy in the future). And guess who's back? OOOOooo Smecker!

Anyway, please read and review and let me know what you think so far. Thank you!


Chapter Two: Past to Present
Agent Paul Smecker gazed dispassionately around the white-washed walls of Lakeview's modestly small diner, his lips thinning narrowly as he waited in pensive silence for his guests to arrive.

It had taken him time to contemplate his next course of action and considering the abrupt circumstances as of late, this meeting might just turn out well in his favor.

He had spent hours last night re-evaluating the reports and photographs, his interest piquing more and more as he meticulously mulled over every single detail and agonized over every shred of evidence apart of last night's brutal crime scene. He hadn't seen anything like this since the infamous hits that took place two years ago.

Everything about it, however, was different. It screamed "professional"… and "personal" with dead-on accuracy. The shooter was definitely making a statement but along with the message, there was a warning. These murders were of a purely vengeful nature… and that nature was dead-set on the very same crime family that the FBI's Task Force was still trying with vigorous effort to infiltrate.

Smecker ran a hand over his face, mentally flipping through the evidence again. The angles, the wounds, and the body count indicated that the hits were done with a near sort of detached professionalism. From the way the bodies had been positioned after death and how well the murders had been thoroughly planned and carried out, it was blatantly conclusive that the shooter had a vendetta.

These murders, however, weren't primarily ruled by emotion. The act of execution in itself served as a good enough catalyst for their vengeance. At least, for now it did. Either that or they knew that investing too much emotion into their actions would only result in them getting caught in the short run of things. They wanted to last longer… which meant that similar murders were more than likely going to occur in future time.

And that was why he made the resolute decision to call on old friends and set up an inconspicuous meeting at a convenient time and location.

He had the intuitive sense that outside help was going to be needed, help that didn't directly involve the Bureau or the local precinct. Ideas and theories were running through his head a mile a minute… but first things first. He needed to gain affirmation from the very players that he might, in future time, need that help from…

And that might prove to be a difficult hurtle to pass through depending on just how agreeable they were of his terms and conditions if they so choose to implicate themselves within his investigation….

They had arrived in Boston a week ago, which turned out to be a convenient, not to mention miraculous, advantage for him. Finding them in the slums of the overtly crowded Irish neighborhood had been fairly easy, especially after paying Doc McGinty an unexpected visit just prior to the murders…

To tell the truth, after two years of barely keeping in touch with the two, he didn't even know what to expect from this meeting… would they be all up for it or would they refuse the offer…? Either way, he was soon going to find out…

The faint chiming of bells at the front door of the restaurant eased away his thoughts and just as he expected, the subjects of his questions were standing just outside. His eyes shifted toward the front foyer, a smile of faint amusement playing across his lips.

Both walked in through the second set of doors, two dark figures emerging as a simultaneous pair. Their movements were in perfect sync with one another and it was blatantly obvious, even from a neutral observer's vantage point, that they were related.

Each was clad in their usual attire, blue-fitted jeans, black shirt, black peacoat, and the familiar dark shades to hide their eyes – the MacManus trademark.

Their hair was slightly longer, hanging loosely just past their ears and framing well-chiseled features that were almost similar in structure. Their faces seemed somber at first as they strode in, which held no real surprise for Smecker knowing where they had been just prior to arriving.

He stood just as they approached, each brother shaking his hand warmly in greeting before sitting down tersely into the booth across from him. "Nice of you boys to drop in…"

"Aye, Smecker," Connor greeted, "We 'eard ye were still runnin' this side. How's business been?"

"The usual up until now. You boys want anything?"

"Nah, I'm good. Murph?"

The other twin shook his head in refusal just as both removed their sunglasses in one fluid, simultaneous movement. It was almost a surreal phenomenon to witness, like their connection as a pair surpassed all limits and boundaries, even the physical.

Just as it used to be, Connor began the conversation. It was easy to tell that the fair haired twin was more of the smooth, initiate talker whereas Murphy was more or less the one to initiate action. Their relationship as brothers was well articulated in balance and no matter the circumstance, each would do anything for the other.

"So, we came back in the nick of time, eh? What's been happenin' that ya needed to see the likes of us so urgently?" Connor asked.

Smecker gazed at the two twins wearily over the rim of his coffee cup; all traces of humor gone as he finally prepared himself to voice the predicament that he so recently found himself involved in.

"Two problems," he began.

Murphy grinned impishly. "More than one…? I'm gettin' excited about this already…"

"I wouldn't start getting trigger happy just yet, boys," Smecker retorted chidingly, "so far, since you two left for your vacational hide out towards the motherland, we've had a new Italian crime family taking central control this side of South Boston. A gang war has broken out and to add onto our shit pile, your deeds of two years ago have apparently sparked an inspiration for yet another Mafioso executioner."

Murphy frowned at the last bit of information, his eyes shifting toward his brother.

Both shared a similar look of grim astonishment.

Not missing a beat, Smecker continued, "This guy is no amateur either. So far there's been one crime scene with a body count of four, all professionally hit, shot point blank in the head, and moved to lie on their stomachs in ritualistic fashion."

"Wait," Connor interjected, "there's only been one?"

Smecker nodded. "But this guy isn't done yet… in fact, he's far from finished. This guy is on a mission and trust me, it's a personal one. The media is already soaking this up thanks to our local precinct leak, calling him L'Angelo Della Morte."

"The Angel of Death is it now?" Murphy asked, bemused. "How long ago did all this shite happen and what do ye want the likes of us to do about it?"

"It happened last night. Since the saints have died down as vigilante icons for the past two years, I've decided to call you boys in for a favor."

Both twins looked over at each other briefly.

Connor nodded, his eyes suddenly shifting to meet Smecker's with a flicker of interest. "Aye, we're listenin'…"

"First, I need you two to continue laying low for awhile. Don't make any hits until I tell you to. I want to catch onto this "Angel of Death's" pattern first. When I have a job lined up, I'm gonna need your help."

"Ya mean ye either want us to catch or kill 'im," Connor corrected.

Murphy nodded. "What if he's a decent man?"

"That is what I'm actually hoping for. You see, boys… if he is, this guy can be the key for everything. The FBI and even our boys from the precinct know little intel on the D'Agastino family. They trust no one. All that's come up are cleaned out warehouses, the occasional dead bodies, and a whole list of missing person's reports. None of our own field agents have even been able to get close enough to these guys in order to infiltrate them. But this guy is somehow on the inside and I think he's more of a chameleon executioner. He blends in and becomes one of them, waits, and then periodically, so as not to get caught, takes them out one by one… He's a good but angry professional. For an agent like myself, I could certainly use him for information."

Both of the brothers paused to weigh the information carefully, each considering it.

Gazing over at Connor pensively, Murphy asked, "Well…?"

"Seems like a wise idea," he answered, "… but under one condition, Smecker."

"Name it."

"We intervene with 'im first. If he isn't killin' for a proper cause like us and is uncooperative, we kill 'im."

"And if he is," Murphy finished, catching onto his twin's idea, "Then we'll see what we can do ta help each other."

"Well, you boys don't really push a hard bargain," Smecker replied, grinning appreciatively, "You got a deal… but, if the situation requires it, I don't necessarily need you boys to wait too long on this. Considering it's already caught the attention of both the media and the crime families of South Boston, you'll be less scrutinized in whatever you decide to take action upon… the spotlight is focused on him now, not the Saints. And because of that factor, this guy is going to be extremely cautious."

A wry smile touched Murphy's lips as he shared a look with his brother. "Guess we really did arrive in the nick of time…"

"Hmm. Quite the challenge this is then, isn't it?"

"You boys have no idea…"

00000000000000000000 (New Jersey 1999) 00000000000000000000000

'Great, another trip to a fucking store…'

Her eyes gazed down bitterly toward the glaring digital clock at her side just as a gruff voice ordered, "Pull up here, Palmer, it's only gonna take a sec."

She scowled at her partner through the rearview mirror. "Hurry it up then, Mac. We were all late yesterday because of one of your pit-stops and DT wasn't all too happy about it either."

Mac, a gruff and intimidating man of imposing height and build, pursed his lips together in silence. He knew better than to bother arguing with his driver and he frowned with visible irritation as an audible snort of amusement resonated through the car from the passenger side in front of him.

"Yea, yea," he muttered, his thick limbs moving awkwardly as he shuffled out of the backseat. "I'll be back before you know it, don't get your panties all up in a twist."

Her eyes narrowed just as the distinct sound of snickering reached her ears. "What in the hell are you laughing at?"

The door slammed and, much to her disapproval, another audible chuckle burst out next to her.

"You need your tampon changed, Lil?"

"Fuck you, Thompson."

Running a lingering hand through his dark hair, Thompson gazed over at her in silence…

She looked pissed.

Sighing heavily, he began, "We'll catch this guy eventually. You know that, right?"

Lily nodded, a deep frown of frustration crossing her lips. "I'm just getting tired of waiting. We've been after this guy for a full fuckin' month and God knows what the hell else he's going to do before we actually manage to catch him."

"He'll get what's coming to him, Lil. For fuck's sake, we haven't fucked up so far on any job we've ever taken and he can't go far without getting caught."

"For a guy that you've claimed not be all that smart," she shot back, "he sure seems elusive enough to me. The dumb ones aren't normally like that, in case if you haven't figured that one out for yourself yet."

"True," Thompson agreed, "but this guy is a predator. He can't go that long without fucking up by making a mark somewhere in Jersey."

"And how many more "marks" is he going to be able to make before we get to him, huh? We have to wait long enough before another body is found, dumped off of the side of a road somewhere before that time? Or wait for another innocent bystander to get clipped right in front of his friends and family?"

Her eyes were narrowed at him as Thompson looked over at her. All traces of humor left him as he replied sharply, "We turn these guys in, Lil, we're not the fucking law, okay? We're not judge, jury, and executioner. We're fuckin fugitive recovery… Christ, sometimes I wonder if you're even in the right field of work. You let this job get to you too personally."

"Yeah, well, I'm human," she retorted icily, "I'm beginning to even wonder about you at times."

Thompson gazed over at her, his anger building once again as their age-old topic of discussion escalated into a full-blown argument. They'd been partners for years. After the death of Jackson the previous year, the man that had held them together as a group, the bond between the two had been deeply severed.

Their personalities were too diverse in nature, Jackson had been the middle point of their connection, and now they were merely working together professionally and teetering on a standstill by their differences.

"You know what? Fuck this shit!" he shouted, opening the car door with more force than needed, "I think I'll run in too. I'm not even going to bother. Talking with you about this shit is like banging my head up against a fucking brick wall! I'll be back in a few minutes..."

She didn't even blink as the door slammed forcibly next to her and waited in angry silence for the next ten minutes.

They never understood the full importance of the job. To them, everything was black and white and anything they did at least ended up with a hefty paycheck in the end… what did it matter to them if people got murdered or raped during their leisure time of waiting?

To Lily, it mattered. And in the long run, only their boss seemed to truly understand her reasoning.

These men that she worked with currently didn't understand that. Then again, neither one could exactly qualify as a poster boy for the average "family man". They were young, impulsive bachelors that took jobs like these just for the mere thrill and pay of it.

Glancing down at the clock with a scowl, Lily turned in her seat, her eyes flickering back toward the window.

"A fucking few minutes my white ass," she muttered.

Sighing in heavy annoyance, her fingers curled around her keys to turn on the ignition.

If they didn't show up within the next five minutes, she was leaving their sorry asses to walk the rest of the way…

As she sat there, she found her attention drawn toward the front entrance just as strange, foreign sounds reached her ears.

The muffled sound became more audible by the second and her eyes widened as she finally comprehended it to be a loud, simultaneous chorus of panicked screaming.

A stampede of moving figures emerged through the doors and filtered hastily into the parking lot, running past her car in a blur of rapid motion.

"What the FUCK…?!"

There was massive hysteria all around her and without even thinking, Lily reached instinctively over toward her glove compartment to pull out her handgun.

The passenger door suddenly flew open and she looked sharply over at Thompson just as he practically threw himself inside next to her. "What the fuck is going on?!"

"Drive, Lil, NOW!!!"

"Where in the hell is Mac, Thompson?!"

His eyes were wide with panic and a cold chill suddenly crept up her spine as she comprehended just exactly what that look on his face meant.

"DRIVE! NOW!"

Shifting her gun onto her lap, she pulled the gear into drive and backed out sharply, her car's tires screeching in protest.

She veered precautiously through the parking lot to avoid the panicking bodies fleeing all around them and the only way that opened for her was near the front entrance.

"Fucking hell!" Thompson cursed.

Just as she neared to pass through, the sound of gunfire reached her ears and she finally caught sight of an approaching shooter, her eyes falling on a tall, heavy set silhouette that was all too familiar to her.

"SHIT!"

He was too close in range to them and with no space to swerve out, Lily had no choice but to try and pass.

"Take my fucking gun, Thompson! NOW!"

"FUCKING SHIT!"

Her foot slammed down on the gas pedal, her pulse racing.

Bullets were now raining down on them and just as Thompson moved his hand toward her, glass suddenly shattered and rained all around them.

"FUCK! THOMPSON!"

He should've fired by now and just as that thought hit her, movement caught her eye.

Her gaze flickered toward the seat at her side, only to see Thompson slumped over, a gaping wound pierced through his skull…

00000000000000000000000000000000000

Her eyes shot open just as the distinct sound of a ringing phone pierced through the silence of her downtown apartment.

'Just a dream… just a fucking dream, Palmer, get ahold of yourself…'

Sitting up through the darkness, Lily groped for the lamp at her bedside, her fingers shaking just as she managed to click it on with a mumbled curse.

"Jesus," she muttered furiously, "what in the hell…?!"

Who calls at three o' clock in the fucking morning…?

Picking up the phone from its cradle, she croaked out, "… 'ello?"

"Lil!"

'DT…'

"Damn, don't you know what time it is?"

She heard an audible huff of irritation on the other line. "Fuck what time it is, Palmer!"

Oh great. He only used her last name when he was really pissed…

Sitting up rigidly in bed with a heavy sigh, she waited patiently for him to continue, knowing just exactly what to expect next… "I saw the fucking news-"

"I didn't get caught or seen, DT."

"This is what you plan on doing now?! Ex Bounty Hunter turned renegade vigilante shooting up mobsters as the angel of fucking death ?!"

"I haven't blown my cover, DT, and you out of anyone that fucking knows me knows that I'm far from being careless or incompetent with my work."

"This isn't work, Lil," he reminded her harshly through the phone, "I can't fucking believe you left the agency just to do this shit! … I sure as hell hope you know what you're doing 'cause now you got the FBI and the fucking crime families of South Boston looking for your ass."

Lily pursed her lips angrily. One would think that after years of working under the man that he would at least come to rely on her antics… "Andranici doesn't suspect anything and they think they're after a man, DT, not a woman. I can figure out their operations discreetly. I've spent a whole fucking year gaining their trust as this mother fucker's secretary. They won't suspect me of anything."

There was a pregnant pause on the other line, followed by a heavy sigh… "You know, sometimes I wonder if you're just either incredibly smart or incredibly stupid, Lil."

"I know. But, you said it yourself… I get caught, I get dead. I promise you I won't end up coming back to Jersey in a body bag. I need to get this done."

"So, you actually plan on coming back to work for me?"

"Honestly? ... I don't know. I lost three partners already and then I lost my family. I don't even know if I'll be qualified as 'sane' after this…"

There was fond smile in his voice as Lily heard him reply, "Knowing you, probably not. You weren't even sane to begin with, to tell you the truth… sometimes I just worry, Lil."

"Yeah, I know."

"Look," DT began, "I have some connections in Boston-"

A crooked smile touched her lips. "Local, fellow Bounty Hunters, huh?"

"To put it mildly, Palmer, yes… and these guys are old friends that I'd trust my life with, so don't doubt me on this one. Eventually, you're going to need help and I don't give a flying fuck if you think otherwise… you're caught up in some serious shit here, Lil."

"I can take care of myself, DT."

"Don't argue with me and just listen," he snapped, "You're good at your job; I'll give you that… but organized crime members? I don't think you're that good. I've been worrying about you for a whole fucking year now-"

"And you knew what I was going to do even before I left, DT. What's with the change?"

"It's just getting too real for me now. I've already lost too many people, I'm not about to chalk up another person to my list… Now, I'm going to give these guys a heads up about you. After I talk with them, they'll do whatever you need them to with no questions asked. So, if and when you need some assistance, you will call these guys. I don't want you dead and quite frankly; I don't think you want that either. So, I'm going to give you a call tomorrow with details."

"Fine. But only if I need them," Lily agreed, scrunching up her nose stubbornly. She didn't like this idea of his and the man certainly well knew it too.

"That's all I ask… I'll talk to you tomorrow then."

"Okay."

"And Lily-"

"Yeah?"

"Don't do anything stupid and don't get caught."

"I'll try my best. Goodnight, DT."

"Yeah, goodnight…"

TBC...