Usual Disclaimers here:

Rocco POV

I leaned against the kitchen counter, watching the twins move around franticly as they debated over what to take with us.

"We don't need your fucking rope, Connor!" Murphy yelled. Connor opened his mouth to argue back, but promptly his mouth as a small moan came from the couch in the living room. He rushed over to check on Ericka, who had been passed out for some time now. Murphy looked guiltier than hell- it had been his idea to drug her.

"What'd you give her?" I asked, speaking for the first time in what felt like hours.

"Hydrocodone." His voice was low. "Same shit she gave me a while back, with the whole Russian thing. Knocked me out right away." He cringed at the memory, like he was still physically hurt from the ordeal. "I gave her a small dose, but I don't know if it's enough to keep her asleep for very long."

"Let's hope so. I don't want to be around when she comes to. She's gonna fucking kill you two." Murph shrugged a shoulder in acknowledgement. Personally, I was stunned that they had the balls to drug her- I had grabbled with Ericka once when we were all too drunk to know better, and let me tell you, she had a killer left hook. My jaw hurt for weeks after. I didn't know too many guys, let alone chicks, that could punch like that.

I paced anxiously around the kitchen, lighting up yet another cigarette. I'd kill for a shot of anything right now. My eyes fell on the bottle of whiskey on the counter; I forced myself to walk away from it. I didn't want to walk into Papa Joe's place half wasted and then get, well, wasted by a Tommy gun. Actually, I didn't know if anyone in the mafia still used Tommy guns anymore, but it was the image that popped into my head- some guy in a fedora pumping me full of lead using a Tommy.

Eighteen fucking years in the mob, and you don't even know what kinds of guns they use. Pathetic. No wonder you were a package runner the entire time, eh, Funny Man? Eighteen years of service to be used as a scapegoat at the right time- how fucking perfecto. You were too stupid to see it coming.

As the thoughts passed through my head, I felt a grim satisfaction in knowing that at least by the end of night I would have repaid those fucks in blood. As they say. Karma is a bitch.

Connor came back into the room, pale and rubbing the back of his neck. Murphy fixed him with a stern gaze. "Calm. Down." He zipped up one of the bags in front of him and threw it at Connor. "No sense in getting worked up. We'll deal with it later."

I did a double take at them, Murphy calm and collected and Connor a nervous wreck. Did hell freeze over? Is Connor actually the one freaking out here? Isn't that Murphy's job? No, wait, that's always been mine….I shook my head as they pulled on their coats and threw their car keys at me.

"Take it I'm driving then?"

"You know where the place is, Roc." Said Murphy sharply. Connor scrubbed a hand over his face, dark shadows under his eyes, apparently trying hard to compose himself. I grabbed the last pack of smokes on the counter and stuck them in my pocket.

"Alright, boys. Let's do this shit."

"Holy shit." Murphy's jaw fell open as he stared at the mansion in front of us. "That's his house?" His voice was full of both awe and disgust.

Papa Joe's humble abode was anything but humble. I had been there only a handful of times, but I never able to get over how much shit the guy had in his place, or how it just screamed 'I have money!' I had never been one to envy others, until I was introduced to the fabulous lifestyle of Papa Joe and his highest ranking mafia members. They had left me wishing for even just a little sliver of what they had, or at least wishing that would do something with all the cash they had, aside from buying fine art and vintage wine.

Murphy continued to scoff, chewing on his thumb. "Who needs that much space? I mean… really?"

"That's a lot of ground to cover." Connor careened his neck, narrowing his eyes as he stared at the huge building. "

Murphy turned to me. "How many men does he have in there with him?"

"Four, maybe five. I haven't exactly been in the loop ya know." I snapped as Murphy let out a frustrated sigh.

Lights twinkled at us from the windows. We crouched down in some bushes, hidden from sight, at least for the moment. "Roc, are there cameras on the grounds? Do you know?" Connor's gaze was fixed on one window in particular.

I shrugged my shoulders. "There might be. I know he's got an alarm system, he installed it when someone tried breaking in a while back."

"Well, short of knocking on the front door and asking them politely to let us inside, I think our best bet is gonna be through that basement window." He pointed to the window he had been staring at so intently. "We can sneak through the house and pop them off one by one as we run into them."

"Right, right….that could work." Murphy nodded his head and peered over the bushes. We sat rooted to that one spot for some time, just staring at the house. Finally, Connor was the one to break the spell. "Well." He pulled on his mask. "Ready when you guys are."

We rose from the bushes and broke into a dead sprint across the expansive yard. I heard a dog barking somewhere in the distance. My heart pounded against my chest, adrenaline kicking in. It was with shaking hands that I jimmied the lock on the basement window and slid into the dark and damp basement. I felt with a loud thud, falling on my knees. Connor and Murph came in after me, their landings both much more graceful than mine. I got up from the ground and grabbed my guns out of one of the bags, double checking to see if they were loaded. I hadn't bothered to bring my duffle- just one more thing to carry around- leaving on the kitchen table.

My face felt hot under the mask; I tore it off and threw it in a bag, wiping away the beads of sweat on my forehead. I'm not nervous. I'm not nervous. I'm am not going to flip a shit when I am so close to being free of this shit.

Murphy appeared at my shoulder. "We can still back out if you want." I glared at him. "No. Fucking no- we're seeing this shit through."

"Then let's fucking get to it!" Connor whispered through gritted teeth. Carefully, we walked across the basement, footsteps echoing off the stone walls. There was no light to see by, and I was fucking lost. How I got stuck navigating, I didn't know, and as I walked I ran my fingers over the walls. Eventually they found the only door in the entire basement. I nodded at the twins and opened the door slowly, stepping out into the empty cream-carpeted hallway. The house was dimly lit.

"Where do you think they are?" whispered Murph. Conn and I nudged him silently in the ribs to get him to shut up. I strained my hearing; I heard voices faintly from down the hall-The office, three rooms down from where we were. I knew exactly where we were now. I pointed down the hallway and held up three fingers. They nodded their understanding and slowly we crept down to the office. The voices were now audible. Unfortunately I didn't understand a damn word of it- whoever was in the office was speaking in very rapid Italian.

Connor tensed next to me. "On three, we're going in." He whispered in a voice so low I had to strain to hear him. I nodded and counted off, guns drawn.

"One…..two….thr- AH SHIT!" I yelled as I felt someone tackle me from behind. I looked up to find Pauli, one of the fucks I had never liked to begin with, punching me. I fought back, swinging the hand that still had a gun it at his head; he avoided and grabbed my arms, pulling them behind my back.

"Hey, Vito! Look who it is!" Vito, a fat man who always reeked of onions and couldn't get laid unless he paid for the sex, looked up from restraining Connor. "Rocco! Hey, man. The boss is gonna be thrilled to see you." Connor almost got out of his grasp until another guy I had never seen before hauled off and punched him in the stomach. He doubled over instantly, though still trying to fight. Murphy, being as scrawny as he was, had an advantage over the rest of us, alluding capture by dodging punches and tackles. Eventually, he ran out of steam and lost focus, when George, a guy that had joined the family around the same time I did, grabbed a hold of him. He fought back, straining hard to get away.

I felt myself being steered toward the basement again. Something clicked in my brain. Oh shit! Shit! Shit! Shit. The quote 'basement' was actually an interrogation room- a lengendary one among mafia members, and, to the best of my knowledge, no one made it out that room alive.

I yelled at the top of my lungs. "You sons-of-bitches! Fuck! Shit!" I fought hard to get away, desperate to get out there. I heard Murphy and Connor screaming every curse they could think of in every language they knew; their voices echoes off the walls as we were dragged into the room and handcuffed to metals chairs. It was a den of confusion- everyone was yelling and screaming and bellowing at each other. I gritted my teeth as the one named Vito started laying into me. The cuffs on my wrists cut deep into my skin. The bite of metal brought me down to earth into a startling realization, one that sent me into fervent prayer for my soul.

There's no way around it. I'm going to die tonight.

Ericka POV

I woke to the sound of silence and a profound feeling of emptiness. The apartment was so quiet- no sounds of one of Connor's movies from the tv, no sounds of pages of a book turning from Murphy, no off key notes from a humming Roc. For the first time in months I was…. Alone.

I sat up and stretched, looking around and listening hard for any sign of the boys. I walked into the kitchen and saw a discarded bag on the table and a couple piles of rope- one neatly coiled and the other a tangled mess- thrown on the floor.

Thoughts entered my head at random. They left me here alone. They drugged me- what the fuck was that shit? Rage boiled in the pit my stomach; venom pooled up in my mouth. Why are they suddenly handling me with kids gloves? What in the fuck is going on? Why didn't they let me come with- I'm not that sick….Good Lord, I'm coming to kill them with they get home.

What if they don't come home? I shivered, suppressing that particular thought. Of course they'll come back. They always come back. The look in Connor's eyes earlier didn't exactly cement that thought into place. I reached for the bottle of whisky and took a rather large gulp, trying to soothe my nerves. I paced around the kitchen, trying to rid myself of the nervous energy suddenly flooding my body. The car keys that usually sat on top of the fridge were gone.

I peered in the bag and found a couple guns and ammo. I picked the weapon up, the weight and feel of the metal object feeling somewhat foreign and yet comforting in my hand. I hadn't shot a gun in a long time, but I was pretty positive I was still an ace marksman.

An idea formed in my brain.

I picked up the phone and dialed Annie's number as I and pulled on jeans and tshirt. She picked up, sounding annoyed.

"Annie! It's Ericka! Listen I need a favor-"

"Why the fuck aren't you resting? Are you trying to kill yourself?"

"Possibly." The retort came out of my mouth before I had a chance to stop it. "Look , I don't have time to explain. But I need to use your car."

She was silence for a moment. "My car? For…."

"No questions, Ann!" I pulled on the one pair of boots I still owned, lacing them up without much thought. Annie let out a sigh; I could practically hear her rolling her eyes over the phone. "Fine. You win. I'll be by in ten. Be out front." I grabbed my coat and the bag on the table, zipping it up and slinging it over my shoulder, I left the apartment and all but ran down the stairs.

Annie pulled up the curb, radio blasting some hokey country song. I turned it off as i climbed into the passenger and stared at Annie. She didn't look too pleased with me. "I just want you to know that you interrupted the best date I have had in a very long time. The guy was smoking hot, totally into me-" she stared at me. "Ericka, honey, you look like hell! What is going on?"

I decided to cut to chase, having zero patience. "Well, you see, my fiancé, his brother, and their friend are on a mission from God that entails the maiming and killing of evil, corrupted men. Now, you see, I was supposed to go with them on this latest job of theirs- you know, to help and do a little slaying of my own, if you will. However, Murphy drugged me and oh, what a surprise, I woke up and found a bagful of guns and medical supplies in my kitchen and the car keys gone. If they really expect me to sit back and do nothing, then they have got another thing coming to them."

I expected Annie to freak out on me. To call me crazy and throw me out of her car or to beat my head in with the pair of stilettos she was wearing. Instead, she laughed at me. "Sug, that's all you had to say."

I was dumbfounded. "Uh…. What?"

"The night I came over to your apartment and saw the three of them with the guns, I put two and two together. They're the ones responsible for the murders in the Russian and Italian mobs, right?" I nodded, stunned that she figured it out based on a few scant facts. She gave me a withering look. "Don't look so surprised. I'm a hell of a lot smarter than most people like to give me credit for. Now, where am I taking you?"

I bit my lip. "Would you happen to know where Joe Yakavetta lives?" Her eyes widened. "They're hitting Papa Joe? Do they have a deathwish?"

"Probably." She shook her head at me. "You shouldn't go over there. It's gonna be a goddamned blood bath and you know it."

"I need to be there, Annie. I can't explain it but I just feel like I need to be with them right now." Annie gave me a long, hard look.

"This is going against my better judgment…." She muttered, pulling away from the curb and driving.

We were silent as Annie drove across town. The streets were dead; no one was outside. It creeped me out a little. My leg bounced up and down, the palms of my hands sweaty. I felt lightheaded all of a sudden. Annie glanced over at me. "Y'all right there?"

"Yeah." I said, letting out a shaky breath. "I'm fine."

"You look sicker than a dog. Maybe you should-"

"I'll take it easy when I know my boys are alright." Annie sighed and nodded her head, turning up the radio just loud enough for the twang of country music to reach my ears. Annie hummed along, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel.

I stared out the window, watching the lights twinkle as we passed by. I wished I had a cigarette, a rosary- something, anything to fidget with. I stuck my hands in my pocket, fingers brushing cold metal. Frowning, I pulled the object out of my pocket. It was my brother Erick's old Zippo lighter, the one he was given after graduating Basic- it had the Infantry emblem engraved into it. I griped it with slightly shaking hands. I had no idea how it got there- I thought I had it packed away in a box somewhere- but it brought a small smile to my face. Somehow, having a small piece of my brother with me made the whole idea of going after my adopted family seem a lot less daunting.

Annie parked a half mile away from the Yakavetta house. It was on the outskirts of the city, tucked far enough in the country side that people wouldn't bother him. I swallowed to myself, fighting off the panic that was waiting to set in as I stared at it- the place was enormous, even from a distance.

Annie turned to me. "So. You got a plan?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Kind of."I unzipped my bag and took at look at my gear. I had everything I could possibly think of, excluding rope- I had to side with Murphy on that debate; Toting around a thirty pound rope was an extreme pain in the ass. I found a business card in the very bottom of the bag. Paul Smecker, Federal Agent. I slipped it into my pocket, deciding that the fed might be of some use.

"What about your plans?" I asked, referring to her date that I crashed.

She opened her mouth when a loud beeping noise came from her side of the car. She groaned and pulled her pager out of her pocket. "Well, apparently my plans are going to be covering for that bitch Cindy. Looks like she called in again." Annie's tone turned serious. "Are you sure you're ok? You seriously do look sick."

"I'm fine." I opened my door. Annie grabbed my arm. "Call me afterwards, ok? And if something feels off or not quite right, get the hell out of there. Be fucking careful. Got it?"

I nodded. "Got it." I shut the door and watched her drive off, leaving me alone in the middle of the road.

I closed my eyes tightly. "Strengthen me, Holy Spirit, that I may defend all that is holy. Protect me, Holy Spirit, that I always may be holy." I took a deep breath before I opened my eyes to stare up at the mansion. "Amen."