I couldn't have done this without my beta cheering me on every step of the way! Thank you so much Goddesslaughs! You're advice, suggestions, encouragement and everyday emails back and forth has kept this going and will until the end!
"Hey Murph, what the fuck's this?" Connor yelled out to his brother gesturing toward the brochures for a dude ranch that were lying on the kitchen table.
Murphy, came sauntering into the kitchen fresh from the shower, a towel slung low on his hips, "What the fuck are ye bitchin' about?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at his twin.
Connor picked up the brochures, fanning them out and displaying them toward his brother.
"Oh those," Murphy said, color rising to his cheeks, "I thought that maybe we could do a little horseback riding, like we used to when we were kids. Like a vacation or something."
Connor didn't know whether to laugh at the hopeful look on his brothers' face or slap it off of him with the brochures. He opted instead for rolling his eyes.
"Murphy, you know we can't do something like this, it's too public."
Connor cringed inwardly at the sharp tone of his voice, Fuck, he hated crushing his brothers' idea, but even worse he hated the look on Murphy's face, the pitiful, sorrowful look that tugged at his heart.
"I'm fuckin' tired of being cooped up in this fuckin' place. We never go anywhere, never do anything but eat sleep and kill. If I don't do something anything I'm going to lose me fuckin' mind, Conn."
Under his brother's stare, Connor felt his resolve weakening. He had never been able to deny Murphy anything when his twin looked like that.
"Maybe we can find a place that will let us rent horses for an hour or something like that," He said, sighing. "Let me see what I can find out, okay?"
Murphy nodded in agreement, but Connor could tell that the comprise wasn't good enough. He would have to work a lot harder than that to appease his twin.
This was the last thing they needed right now. They had been planning tonight's mission for months and he couldn't risk Murphy blowing it because he was thinking about a fucking Dude ranch.
He'd have to find another way to keep his brothers' mind on tonight's mission.
Connor swept Murphy's brochures from the table, making room for his black duffel. Opening the bag and withdrawing his guns, Connor carefully began checking the clip of each one. "Murph we've got more important things ta think about than horses right now," he said, "we need ta focus on the mission."
"Aye, you're right," smirked Murph, "but later you promise we can talk about getting away?" Knowing he was trying his brothers patience further. Murphy knew he was trying his twin's patience, but he wasn't about to let Connor brush the idea aside. He needed this, fuck, they both needed it.
"Sure lil' brother, just promise me that you'll focus tonight?" Connor raised an eyebrow at his brother as he spoke firmly. "We can't afford to be distracted."
There had been rumblings about the ring of rapists for a couple of weeks, young women disappearing and turning up dead and dismembered, a little help, from Smecker, and a little detective work on their own and the Saints had a new mission, one they had gladly accepted.
"Fuck ye." Murphy replied good naturally, sitting down across the table from Connor and opening his own black arsenal bag, "I can handle meself, and I'm not yer fuckin' lil brother."
Reaching inside the duffel, he pulled out his Beretta and systematically began to take the gun apart, checking it over thoroughly and cleaning it with an expert hand.
"So Con, how long do you think we can afford to leave and take a vacation?" he asked, deftly adjusting the sight of the gun.
"For Christ's fucking sake, Murph," growled Connor, "What tha fuck did I just say not five minutes ago? Ye need ta fuckin' focus."
Murph rolled his eyes, irritated, "Aye I'm focused, don't you fucking worry, when tonight comes my heads there 100," the irritation clearly grew in his voice. "The fuckin' mission is hours away, I don't see why we can't discuss this a bit while we prep."
With an exasperated sigh Connor gave his brother a stern look, "Murph if we don't concentrate on what we are doing now, we could fuck up later," he replied, "I, for one, am not willing ta take that chance, are you?"
With an exasperated sigh Connor gave his brother a stern look and replied, "Murph if we don't concentrate on what we are doing now, we could fuck up later, and I for one am not willing ta take that change, are you?"
Murphy wasn't about to take any unnecessary risks, he had been doing this long enough to know better, but the condescending tone in Connors voice irritated him. "Okay fine Connor, from here on out I am totally focused on tonight's mission, but we will talk about getting away for a while." He punctuated his statement with a raised eyebrow. "Jesus Murph, I already told ye yes, now fucking drop it and hand me that clip."
Murphy let out a frustrated sigh and handed over the part, tossing the clip toward his brother with more force than was necessary, before continuing to care for his own guns.
After a few moments of irritated silence he slipped the final piece of his Beretta into place with a satisfying click. "Do you have the file on these guys? I want to know these assholes inside and out, and make sure we didn't miss anything."
Connor reached into his duffel and rooted around for the file that Smecker had given him, pulling it out he paused to light two cigarettes and passed the file to Murphy, along with one of the cigarettes.
Nodding his appreciation, Murphy laid the file out so they could both look at the information, and he started flipping through the pictures included.
"The one with the nautical stars on his both arms is the apparently the leader of the four," Murphy said, tapping the picture with a fingertip.
"He'll die last." added Connor, "I think we can get in and out in under an hour. According ta Smecker these guys always have a huge party on Saturday nights, that's what lures in the girls they rape."
"We'll hit before the crowd gets there." Murph stated matter of factly. "We'll be gone before anybody realizes they're dead."
Connor glanced up from the file and watched his brother's eyes harden as he spoke and noticed Murph worrying that bottom lip, and he knew instantly that his brother was completely focused.
Still tapping the picture in front of him, finally focused on planning their mission, Murphy glanced up from the file and was surprised to see his brother's features relax into a smile. Connor's shoulders began to shake, silently a first, but then he began to laugh in earnest.
Trying not to let on how good it was to see his normally solemn brother laugh, Murphy put on his best annoyed look and huffed at his twin.
"After all that fuckin' talk about being focused, and here ye are laughin' like ye've lost yer fuckin' mind." He scoffed
"I just had a horrible idea. We could use Smecker as bait!" Connor gasped out between breaths.
"Oh fuck, no way man, not a chance in fucking hell," giving into the grin that was pulling at his mouth, Murphy joined in his brothers amusement "Do you remember Da's reaction when he found out who the woman was that he knocked out that night?"
"Jaysus I thought that was one fuck of an ugly women!" Connor whooped, impersonating their father.
"And tha look on Smeckers face when dad said that," another burst of hysterical laughter ripped through both boys as they recalled the agents insulted and horrified face.
Murph laid his head on the table trying to regain some composure, knowing that even looking at his twin would send him off into new peals of laughter. When he had succeeded in calming himself a few moments later, he raised his heads and looked at his brother, "Christ but da was right though, he really was an arse ugly woman."
His comment brought forth another bout of laughter from his twin and Connor got up from the table, picking up the contents of his duffel back and heading toward the other room.
"Hey Con, where you going?" Laughed out Murph.
"If I stay in the kitchen with ya, we'll never fuckin' get anything done, ya eejit." Replied Connor, without a hint of seriousness.
"Okay have it your way, but we have ta discuss our plan of action for tonight eventually." Laughed Murph, shaking his head.
Still grinning he returned his attention back to the weapons before him, reflecting on how good it felt to release some of his pent up energy. Too often they had been forced to be serious for the sake of their calling, and Murphy was glad that they were still able to laugh despite the sober nature of their missions. He was certain that if they hadn't kept their good humor, they would both have died from the stress by now. It was another reason he was hell bent on taking a vacation. He knew they needed it.
The time had come for the boys to be the Saints.
Shutting the door to their apartment, Connor fell into step beside his brother, adjusting the rosary a little more comfortably around his neck. Both brothers were silent as they walked concentrating on the job ahead. The weight of the guns against Connor's sides was comforting and the dark wool of his peacoat protected him from the chilly night air.
He watched Murphy from the corner of his eye, noticing that his twin's gait was ever so slightly off, a result of the blades Connor knew were strapped to Murphy's legs under his jeans. The walk to the hotel didn't take long, and they were able to slip inside quickly, unnoticed amongst the other people there.
"Murph," Connor hissed in hushed tones, "What bar are we meeting up at after this?"
"Meet me at Sherlocks by 10:30, you take the two bags back to the apartment, I'll head straight there okay?"
Connor wanted to comment about the unfairness of his having to go back to the apartment while Murphy got a jumpstart at the bar, but he didn't get the chance as he heard the locks to the hotel door clicked open.
As soon as the Saints heard the lock they became totally focused on evil man, dead man and positioned themselves for the kill.
Bodies tense and coiled, both brothers waiting for all four men to make an appearance before they sprang, guns blazing, felling the first three men in a hale of gunfire and blood.
As a single unit, they turned to the last victim standing, a man, dark, with nautical stars tattooed on both hairy forearms. The rapists eyes were impossibly wide and Connor couldn't help but feel a small twinge of satisfaction that the man was feeling some of the fear he had forced upon so many innocent girls.
"Get on yer knees," he commanded, pressing the barrel of his gun against the man's head, aware of Murphy mirroring the action beside him.
Evil Man, Dead Man. Connor thought, even as his lips were already forming the family prayer in time with his twin.