All rights to whoever.

"So…. Let me get somethin' straight here."

Murph nailed me with a piercing gaze. "This girl, Ericka, wouldn't let you walk her home, so you took the liberty of following her home- only to find her beating the living shit out of not one, but two street punks, and didn't seem fazed by the fact you pulled out a gun."

"Aye. She doubted my ability to use the thing." Murph snorted. I was a damn good shot- just as good as Murph- and that was saying a lot.

He chewed on his thumb. "And she addressed you by last name? Isn't that a bit odd? How'd she find out what our last name is?" I hadn't thought of that. I couldn't remember telling her.

"No idea. Perhaps she asked Doc at some point?"

"Maybe."

Murph let out a sigh, and leaned forward in his chair. "Connor. Something doesn't seem right here. " He paused, thumb back in mouth. "I can't explain it. She said she was new to the neighborhood, right?" I nodded my head in confirmation. "I swear, I've seen her in McGinty's before. Why would she wander into an Irish bar? It's not like she's Irish or anything- she hasn't got the accent."

I frowned. "She told me she was a quarter Irish. And you've never talked to her, how would you know?"

"She came into the church after we did; I heard her praying. And I'm almost positive I hit on her at the bar one night." He smirked. "Frigid woman. She didn't say anything to me. Typical, you manage to melt the ice queen."

"Stop complaining! You normally manage to get the girls anyway- let me have my moment of glory!"

Murph laughed, and then picked up the ID's of the kids Ericka laid out. "So, these are the two idiots, eh? They look pretty harmless to me. Why'd she pummel them again?"

"Tried to sell her drugs."

"Well, we best keepin' an eye on them. Make sure they stay on the straight and narrow, eh? In the meantime, we've got us another job."

"Know any details?"

"Not much, just what Roc told us over the phone before you went out." He paused. "You sure you know what you're doing?"

"Of course. We plan this shit out, follow the plan, it's a one-two-three thing-"

"I meant with the girl."

I met Muprh's intense gaze. He had that look- like he was trying to search me. There was no trying to get around him- I couldn't lie to him. I let out a deep breath. "Not a damn clue."

"You've known her for a whole two days. I'm not trying to say that there couldn't be something there- there could be, eventually. But you've got to be careful. Considering what we do and all. Give it time, Conn."

"Oh shut yer fuckin' mouth. You're acting like I went and proposed to the damn girl. It was one date- one measly little date-"

"Yah, and you followed her home-"

"Because I had a feeling she'd get into trouble-"

"And she's perfectly friggen capable. Any idiot could see that."

"What in the fuck are ye talking about?" My accent became noticeably thicker, as it tended to do when I became irritated. Muprh looked at me incredulously.

"It's in the way she carries herself- like nothing can fuckin' touch her. Hell, even Roc noticed it at the bar- and we both know how unobservant he is with a bit of liquor in 'em!"

I leaned back in my chair, hands folded behind my head. He had a point. She exuded self confidence every other time I had seen her- except for that first time at the bar. Why had she been so soft spoken then?

She 'bout bit my head off when I asked about her job. Obviously she wasn't afraid to pull out her claws when needed.

God. Women confused me.

"So, when's Roc gonna get here and explain shit?" Murph took the hint to redirect conversation. "Should be here anytime-"

And right on cue, Roc burst through the front door. Roc had this odd knack of unplanned, but impeccable timing. Made life seem more like a movie.

"So, boys, I got a lead."

"Aye. Go on with it then."

Roc plopped down in a chair. "So, there's these drug lords, down in the Spanish neighborhood. Real pieces of work. They recruit kids- 15 or 16 year old kids- to push for 'em. Supposed to be compensation, or repayment for smuggling their families into the country. Biggest load of shit ever."

We all lit up a cigarette. "How'd you find this out?"

"When I went back to my place hungover as fuck while you guys took off to church. There were some kids that tried to sell to me." His face broke into an evil grin. "Asked what they thought the Saints would do if they got their hands on them. One of the kids eventually broke down, told me everything."

Murph gave me a look, and I knew exactly what he was thinking. I had to agree with him.

"Roc, you can't just go and use our name as a scare tactic. People know you hang around us. Eventually someone will put two and two together. If someone ID'd you, you be screwed."

"We all would be screwed." Muprh cut in. "Ya gotta be careful man. This is God's work we're doing here. Don't want anything interfering with that."

Murph is so convinced that what we're doing is right. Why can't I be that sure of it?

I focused on the conversation going on without me. If this was God's work we were doing, then I was going to be damn sure I at least had a say in how it happened.

Later that night, we were walking in Roc's neighborhood, meeting up with the kid who had confessed to Roc. In order to pull off a hit, we needed all the info we could get.

I wasn't comfortable with the idea of meeting the kid face to face, but it seemed like the only real way to be sure of what was going on. Muprh was like a human lie detector- no one could get anything past him. It was sort of the same thing as my dead on intuition. Call it a gift from God if you wish; I had to admit, Murph's gift seemed to serve a much more practical purpose than mine did.

So there were, in an alleyway in the Mexican neighborhood. Roc split with us to go get the kid and bring him to where we were. I leaned against a wall; smoking in the hopes nicotine would calm my nerves down. Murph leaned against the wall opposite of me, looking out for any signs of danger.

Footsteps echoed off the walls, and we immediately jumped into attack mode. It was only Roc, with a young teen walking ahead of him. The kid had a black eye. He looked familiar, though I couldn't think of where I might have seen him before.

Roc nodded at us, signaling that everything was all clear.

"So kid, what's your name?" asked Murph.

"Jose Rodriguez." He had a Spanish accent.

The name rings a bell…

"Alright, Jose. You need to tell us everything- who you're working for, who you got here- anything you can think of. The entire story is what we're looking for here. It's the only way we can help you."

"My family comes from Mexico. We met a man there who said he could help us, so long as we worked for him once we got here. He fed us, clothed us, got us our apartment." He looked down, and his eyes darkened. "We didn't know he'd make us push drugs. We didn't know he'd pimp out my sister. We didn't know he'd take our father from us." His voice broke. "I don't know what his name is- we were all told to call him 'The Otets.' He's a white male, has some sort of accent. Seen him once, though he phones often- to tell us where to pick up drugs, what corner my sister is supposed to work, where to send payment. That kind of thing." As he spoke, all the anger he contained seemed to exude from his every pore. "I'm sick of the shit. I'm sick of seeing my sister in pieces, I'm sick of pushing for the stupid fuck- I got the living shit beat out of me last night by some woman because I fucking sell."

He broke into rapid Spanish. I had a hard time understanding him- Spanish wasn't my best language.

And then it clicked- Ericka had beaten the shit out of him last night. What are the fuckin' chances of that?

Murph looked over at me, mirroring my same thoughts on his face. We turned back to Jose and waited for him to calm down. He wiped a few tears from his face, and took a deep breath. "Look, I don't know who you two are- you could be the mother fuckin' Saints for all I know- but he-"jabbing a finger in Roc's direction, "Told me you could help. So. Can you fucking help me or not?"

Murph looked at me. What's your gut feeling on this one? He silently asked me.

All in all, he seemed like a good kid. He could grow up and escape his present lifestyle. There was hope for him.

"Alright. We'll help ya. But not a damn word to anyone about us- we can't help if we get taken out." He nodded his head, almost feverishly.

"Do you know when you're supposed to pick up your next batch of drugs?"

"Yeah. Later tonight, a few blocks from here."

"What time?"

"Nine o'clock."

I looked to Murph, who nodded.

"Alright. Lead the way."

We followed Jose in the shadows, careful to be silent and unseen. He looked completely calm. It was unnerving, considering how he had been violently angry and upset mere minutes before.

Roc circled around the block. Murph and I stopped in front of pawn shop, and leaned against the wall, smoking and looking unfazed, though all of our senses were on high alert.

We heard rough voices in the alley. Carefully, we edged towards the alley, staying in the dark.

"Jose, my dear boy."

"Otets. It's nice to see you." He greeted him like an old friend.

"Don't play that game with me." The speaker's voice was deep, and had a very thick Russian accent. "I know you're angry with me."

Murph's eyes widened as my 'oh shit' instincts kicked in. This wasn't going to end well.

"I don't understand." Jose tried to lie.

"Yes you do. You're ungrateful for all I've done for you and your family. You no longer wish to help out my business. You're sister is just as ungrateful. She refuses to provide services to my-" he paused, searching for the word. "Clients. So I've decided, since you do not care to repay me, I will save everyone the trouble."

Oh fucking shit.

"Where's my sister?" Jose said in a voice of attempted calm. I heard the waiver there, the panic evident.

"In the car. We had a little chat with her before we came here. " He switched to Russian. "Get her, Hans."

There was more than one bad guy-for lack of a better term- out there in the alley. Damnit! We should have known better. We should have had a plan for this shit, scoped out the area...

Murph looked to me. What the fuck do we do?

I waved my hand. Kill the fucking bastards.

Muprh rolled his eyes and nodded. We pulled out our guns, and waited for the right moment. Timing seemed to be the key to every other job we had ever done- this one was no exception.

There were sounds of a scuffle. "On your knees, girl!"

"Fuck you!" There was a sharp smack, and a thud.

"Maria!" Jose screamed. There was another smack and a thud.

"Get up, you stupid spics, get the fuck on your knees."

There was a long pause before we heard the cocking of a gun.

"Hans, once you're done with this, drive us to the lounge. I want a drink." Otets spoke once again in Russian.

Muprh tensed next to me.

"Now."

We rounded the corner and took aim at the Russian man's lacky. He had his gun trained on Jose, who held his sister in a death grip. I couldn't see her face, but I saw the blood that soaked her dress. Muprh fired at Hans landing a perfect headshot. He crumpled to the ground, fragments of his brain landing on the concrete under him. I tore off after the car that had started as soon as we came around the corner. It made a sharp turn onto a busy and well lighted street. I couldn't get a shot in without being seen.

"Connor!" Muprh's voice called out to me. "She needs a hospital. Now!"

I turned back to Jose and his sister. I winced when I looked at her. Some 'chat' they'd had indeed. I cursed the Russian man. I'd fucking get him.

"Guys, what the fuck happened?" Came Roc's voice. I heard him running behind me. "Are you alright?"

"She's not. Where's the nearest hospital, Roc?"

"A few streets from here."

"Let's fucking go. Now!" Muprh was frantic, feeding off Jose's silent panic and desperation. He picked her up carefully.

Roc led the way as we weaved through side streets, trying to avoid being seen. The hospital was about five blocks away- Murph all but ran with her in his arms. Jose looked lost and terrified. I wanted to comfort him, but I had no idea what to say.

What do you say to someone when their sister is on the verge of death?

We entered the hospital, Muprh and Jose covered in Maria's blood; Roc and I were right behind them.

"We need a fuckin' doctor!" Murph yelled at the top of his lungs.

I didn't hear anything else beyond that. I didn't watch as a nurse and a doctor wheeled Maria out of the waiting room on a gurney, and I didn't watch as Jose shook violently, trying to keep his grief in.

I saw Ericka Engel, standing in scrubs, staring at me. Her eyes were wide as she looked from me to my blood splattered brother to Jose. Without a word, she followed the doctor and other nurse out of the waiting room. I sat down in a chair and watched numbly as Murph tried to comfort an inconsolable Jose.

It's going to be a long night.

Review? :)