Dis: I don't own BDS.
Don't worry everyone. Murphy will catch Aiden.
Chapter 13: Like A Bloodhound, Like A Phantom
Anger was more predominant in Murphy's heart as he fidgeted on the plane beside his brother. As soon as Connor had read the letter, fury had etched across his face, making him snappy as he told Amelie to stay put while they rushed to grab their things. It had taken them only an hour to pull the right strings and get a flight straight to Ireland. Technically, Smecker did the pulling, but either way, the brothers were flying home.
Home…
The thought made his heart twitch. It would be a long flight, so Murphy settled himself in and began reading a book he hadn't finished after running into Aiden. Beside him, Connor kept twisting and retying his bundles of rope. People gave them curious glances, some hiding them poorly while others didn't even bother to cover their interest. Sending them a glare would only serve to make him look like a jackass, so Murphy ignored them as best as he could and continued reading. "I swear, when I find her…I don't know what I'll do…I want ta kill her for this, but at the same time, I just want her safe."
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Three weeks…they had been there for fuckin' three weeks. The stress was wearing on the two brothers' nerves, making them short-tempered and violent. They had been thrown out of three bars in the last week alone for fighting with other patrons. Murphy was itching for a fight.
"She's like a fuckin' ghost…Nothin' we find on 'er sticks for long, and she's always gone when we get to where she was last." Connor patted his brother on the shoulder, knowing the frustration Murphy was feeling. As Murphy balled his fists, the Aequitas stood out in stark contrast to the whitened flesh.
"Easy Murph…We'll catch up eventually." Going back to cleaning his gun, Connor ran the recent information he received through his head one more time. "They said she was down by Dublin's lower east side last Wednesday, and that she was in the south-western parts the other day. The strikes seem random, but maybe I can find some pattern…" Looking at the pinpoints on the map stuck to the far wall of the room, Connor shook his head. There wasn't a pattern to be found. Not a single one. The bastard was running, tempting Aiden into a chase she would ultimately lose. Weak, exhausted, tired—Aiden would fall to his brutality. Shaking off the worry and fear for the woman he had struck a friendship with, Connor placed his now clean Berettas off to the side and studied his brother. Murphy paced back and forth, anger and worry alternately coating his face.
"I hope the lass is alright…God I hope she is!"
"Me too, Murph…me too."
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Slipping between buildings, Aiden rapidly took in her surroundings. Hunting the man who trained her was no easy task. She'd find him one night, only to have him slip through her fingers and disappear for the next night or two. This cycle had been repeating itself for practically the last month, and Aiden was rapidly growing tired and frustrated with it. She knew he was toying with her, like a fox teasing a bloodhound, but she was out for blood. Nothing would stop her short of death. Little did Aiden know, she was being watched.
Through the binoculars, the man could easily see the girl skimming the ground as she wandered through the dock area. She couldn't have been older than 24 in his opinion—too young to be hunting for death. However, he knew how deeply she was involved in the I.R.A, and he regretted having to kill her too. However, one weed among a bed of roses could sprout a blanket of more weeds in time. He didn't consider himself to be a rose, though. He was more like the shears and rough hands that tore the weeds from the garden. Suddenly, two hunched over figures slunk into his field of vision, and he blinked to make sure his old eyes weren't fooling him. (AN: guess who!!!) The girl was less experienced than he thought, or his two boys were with her, and she was leading them. Either way, he already had his mission from God. Evil only breeds more evil, and must therefore be eliminated. However, he needed to keep his distance from his two sons. They probably still thought he was dead after his little disappearing stunt.
Carefully climbing down from his perch near the warehouse, Da MacManus silently followed after the trio skulking around the warehouse floor. The woman was in for a rude awakening if she thought to one-up the man heading the whole shebang. However, sensing some type of innocence about her, Da MacManus decided to see what the lass would do before leaping to harm her.
Rounding the corner, the old man had to backtrack quickly to avoid colliding with the scuffle being held on the floor. Rolling his eyes, Da MacManus took another route to where he knew Killian Redford Kirpatrick III to be hiding. (AN: I'm tired of calling Aiden's old boss Capt. or "the man", so I came up with this uber-ridiculous name for him. Feel free to laugh and snort milk out your noses at it. I know I did :D) His boys always did decide things with their fists, but now was hardly the time for a fight. As he turned the final corner, Aiden disappeared into the room and the door shut behind her with a solid thud. "Time to go to work…"
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A fist took Aiden off her feet and sent her to the floor where a boot collided with her ribs. The dark chuckle echoing over her made Aiden feel like a small child—stupid and frightened for walking into a situation blindly. She should have known better. As a rib cracked under multiple kicks, the air went out of her lungs. A boot crushed her left hand as she reached for some kind of weapon.
"Tsk Tsk…Ye used to be so much better, Aiden. Living in Boston has left you helpless." Black eyes came into her field of vision, making fear and rage boil through her simultaneously. "I see you came back. Want to be back doing business?"
"Fuck ye and yer terrorist group, ye lily-livered…" A fist connecting with her cheek effectively silenced the end to her sentence. She felt her teeth scrape the inside of her cheek, the copper tang of blood filling her mouth.
"Silence. I won't have you thinking yerself a high and mighty bitch just because ye lost yer penchant for violence. Now, let me show ye how the big dogs do it." Before she could scoot away, Killian had wrapped her hands in chain and dragged her to the far wall of the room. Blood smeared the wall and floor where others had gone before her, and the sight sent a chill down her spine. She knew exactly how brutal the man was, but she somehow couldn't get her mouth to stop voicing her heart's true opinion.
"Fuck ye! I never wanted ta be in yer damned world!" Biting off a scream as stinging pain cut into her back, Aiden dangled from the ceiling by her bound wrists. It would be brutal torture and unyielding pain long before they would kill her, and Aiden resigned herself to her fate. "At least Amelie, Murphy and Connor are safe…" This was her final thought before the true pain began.
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