1.

Mikey O'Rourke cursed loudly when his phone interrupted him. He rolled off of the girl who was his consolation prize for the evening. He couldn't remember her name, but she was fucking loose, and was pretty much down for whatever he wanted to do. She didn't make a sound when he left her, and he assumed it was because she was too strung out to realize what was going on. Fucking junkies. He grabbed his cell off the bedside table. Doyle. Shit.

"Hello,"

"Did you find out anything about McManus?"

"Yeah," Mikey said, scowling as he watched his boner shrink down to its normal size. "As a matter of fact, he's shackin' up with Maggie McGinty at her old man's bar downtown."

"Is he now?"

"Yeah, the stupid bitch has gone to the other side." He leaned over and poked at the girl who had rolled over and passed out. "What do you want me to do? The only reason she didn't turn states evidence when she went in the joint is because we threatened to take out her old man. He's dead. What's to stop her from doin' it now?"

"Nothing," Doyle said. "Take care of her. And find that fucking evidence."

"I'll toss the bar," said Mikey. "If it's not there, there's a nunnery where her sister used to live. She's pretty close with the sisters. She might have given it to them."

"Take care of it, Mikey, or it'll be your ass!"

The phone went dead. Shit! Mikey thought. The sick fuck wants me to rough some nuns! Bastard. He glanced at the girl. She was dead to the world. What fun is that? He pulled back the blanket and admired her bare ass. He was pleased when he got a semi for his trouble. He pushed her over onto her stomach and lifted up her hips. Fuck it, I'm gonna get mine.

Maggie stumbled down the stairs and into the bar. Pint glasses and a pair of shot glasses littered the bar from the night before. She blinked as the light from outside streamed through the windows, and was grateful that she had the good sense to go to bed when she had. Using the water gun, she filled the coffee carafe and started a pot. She turned the TV behind the bar on to the morning news. A string of loud curses and a thud from the far side of the bar caught her attention.

Connor crawled out from under a booth table, rubbing his head. He eyed the empty bottle of Jameson's in front of him, and what might pass for recollection crossed his face.

"Mornin," said Maggie from behind the bar. She didn't look any better than he felt, but at least she was standing upright. "Coffee's on."

He staggered to the bar and collapsed onto a barstool. "What the fuck happened last night?" he asked as he pulled a cigarette out of a pack left on the bar and lit it.

"You decided to do some more drinking when we got back." She set a mug in front of him and filled it with coffee. "You were still up when I went to bed. Guess you passed out in the booth."

He rubbed his eyes. "Fuck me."

"But we only just met," she said, smirking at him.

He appeared to be searching for a witty retort, but Maggie suspected that his brain wasn't working on all pistons. It was short lived, however, when a news story caught his attention at that moment. "Turn up the TV."

Maggie did. A pretty blond reporter was standing outside the Hoag prison.

"...The details of the attack are still unclear, but from what the information that we have received, Murphy McManus, one of the brothers known as The Saints of Boston, was attacked and killed last night while serving a life sentence for the public execution of Joe Yakavetta almost ten years ago."

Connor and Maggie stared at the screen as a picture of Murphy appeared. Maggie finally turned the TV off. She reached out to touch Connor's hand. She had no idea what to say. "I am so sorry, Connor."

He knocked her hand away, sending his coffee mug flying into the glasses from the previous evening. Glass shards flew across the bar. Coffee splashed down the front of Maggie's robe. A piece of a pint glass sliced the top of her hand. She wanted to be angry at him, but truth was that she couldn't blame him, so she let it go. "Is there anything I can do?" The question sounded so asinine. He had just learned that his brother had been murdered. What could she possibly do to help?

The next thing she knew he was on his feet and heading for the front door. "Connor, where are you going?" she called. He ignored her. "Connor, wait!"

It was too late. He was gone. Maggie, drenched in coffee, blood trickling from her hand, could do nothing but stare at door where he had disappeared. She contemplated going after him, but decided that this was something that he was going to have to come to terms with by himself. She had. She only hoped that he would not succumb to the same darkness that she had fallen prey to once upon a time.

2.

Connor found himself kneeling in the back pew of Saint Katherine's. He wasn't really sure how he had ended up there after he had stumbled out of McGinty's. His world was spiraling out of control and focusing on anything at that moment made his head hurt. Yet here he was. In church. And for the life of him, he couldn't reason why he would go to seek God's guidance. It was God who had led him and Murphy down this ridiculous path in the first place. Or was it? He wasn't sure anymore. Had they really been on the righteous path? Or were they suffering some grandiose delusion? He wasn't sure anymore.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he ground his teeth so hard that it hurt. He wanted to scream. He wanted to curse God until he was struck down by lightning. But he held it in. Only part of it was because of the small group of nuns in the front of the church praying the mysteries of the rosary. The other part was because screaming at God would offer some release for his pain. That was not what he wanted. He wanted to feel the pain. Hold it close to him. This is penance, he thought. This is my punishment for believing that I was doing God's work.

"Jesus Christ would you stop with the self-inflicting angst? It's fucking annoying."

Connor opened his eyes when the familiar voice spoke. Rocco was dressed in a full nun's habit, sitting on the pew in front of him with feet resting in the seat. Under any other circumstance, Connor would have found the scene hilarious, but he couldn't seem to allow himself even this moment of levity. A familiar looking cat jumped onto the back of the pew, stretched his back, and lifted his tail at Rocco.

His face screwed up and shooed the cat away. "Get the fuck outta here!" The cat hissed at him, jumped down, and disappeared. "I always thought that I would have a lot of pussy chasing me around in Heaven, that is not was I was expecting. The god-damned thing won't leave me alone."

"What's with the get up?" Connor asked. He glanced around to find that none of the Sisters praying in the front seemed to be aware of Rocco's presence.

"Man, you wouldn't believe how fucking comfortable these things are," Rocco said. "I understand why the nuns live in these things. I don't even have to wear anything under it." To prove his point, he stood up and lifted the robe. "It's fucking liberating!"

Connor stared at him, still not able to find any humor.

Rocco dropped the fabric and sat back down. "Nothing, huh? Jesus, they've really done a number on you this time, haven't they?"

"What the fuck do you want, Rocco?" Connor snapped.

"Take it easy, asshole," Rocco said. "I'm here because you're heading down a very dangerous road and I need to make sure you get your head out of your ass."

"Ah, fuck you," Connor said. "Everyone is gone. Are you going to tell me that there's still a fucking plan? Well, fuck that! It's done! I'm done! Game over!"

Rocco sneered. "Will you stop acting like such a pussy? Sure there's been some casualties in this war. Me, Greenly, your Dad, we all did what we did because we knew that what we were doing was right. We all made that sacrifice for a greater good. And now you're going to just give up and make all that for nothing? Fuck you, you arrogant prick."

Connor hung his head in shame. "How the hell am I suppose to do this on my own?"

"You're not on your own. Why don't you open your fucking eyes?"

Connor looked back up at him. "Maggie?" He wasn't sure why she popped into his head at that moment, but for some reason, it seemed reasonable.

Rocco nodded.

Connor shook his head. "Fuck no! Not her. I will not watch another person die for this! I'm not bringing her in."

"She's been in from the beginning, fucker," Rocco said.

Now Connor was thoroughly confused. "Stop being so fucking cryptic man and tell me what the fuck are you talking about!"

"Open your fucking eyes!" Without warning, Rocco leaned forward and punched Connor in the jaw.

Connor's head snapped up when the loud crash echoed through the church when the front doors banged opened.

Six men walked in, each carrying a pistol drawn. Three of the men walked with purpose toward the startled nuns who were already on their feet. Two of the them closed the doors and took up post on either side. The last one trained his barrel on Conner

"What the fuck is this?

Shoving his gun at Connor again, the man motioned for him to move down the aisle. "Shut the fuck up! You move and we'll kill all of your little sister friends!"

Gritting his teeth and seeing no other alternative at the moment, Connor stood, raised his hands, and complied. Sister Lucille left her pew and started up the aisle to intercept the men. They stopped as she approached. The man on Connor pushed him forward so that he was standing next to Lucille.

She looked from Connor to the men with the guns. "This is a house of God," she said, "your weapons have no place here."

The man in the front sneered. "You help us out, Sister, and we will be more than happy to leave and take our weapons with us."

"How can I help you? What do you want?"

"Maggie McGinty."

Connor stiffened, but Lucille caught his eye briefly, telling him to stay put.

"I'm afraid you've come to the wrong place," she said. "Maggie doesn't come into this church."

The man snickered. "I'm not looking for her. I'm looking for something that she gave you."

Lucille raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Some information she would have given you for safe keeping."

"I have no knowledge any such information," she said.

He shook his head. "You really are going to make this difficult, aren't you, Sister?" His hand shot out and struck her across the cheek.

Connor took a step forward. The man shoved his gun in his face. "Don't even think about it, asshole."

In the next moment, all hell broke loose. Outside, two gunshots rang out. The front doors opened again. This time, a long, stainless steel table on wheels, with a mother of pearl coffin on top, rolled swiftly into the church and half way down the aisle. All eyes were on the spectacle. Two shots were fired and both the men stationed at the door were down. The nuns screamed and made for the pulpit. The top of the coffin flew open, and Murphy McManus sprang up from the inside like a jack-in-the-box, wielding a gun in each hand. With brilliant execution, he shot two of the men in front of Connor. Connor shoved Lucille to the ground and barreled into the last man standing, grabbing his gun as they both toppled to the floor. Connor quickly righted himself and put a single bullet into the man's chest.

The echoes of gunfire faded into deafening silence as Connor tried to assimilate the events. He stared up the middle aisle of the church where Murphy was dragging himself out of the open coffin. He hopped to the floor, spread his arms in triumph, and smiled at Connor. "Miss me, brother?"

Connor marched to where his brother was standing and promptly landed a right hook across his jaw.

"Jesus Christ," Murphy howled. "What the fuck was that for?"

"The news said you were dead, asshole!" Then letting out a loud howl, he pulled his brother into a bear hug.

"Well," a slow southern drawl came from the doorway, "I always heard that church was illuminating, but I had no idea it could be that good."

Both brothers turned to the door to see Eunice Bloom stepping delicately over one of the bodies, securing her gun the holster on the front of her belt, Paul Smecker followed her closely.

"Yeah, well," said Smecker, "Let's not make a habit of it."

Bloom grinned at him. "I see what you did there." She stopped and looked at her black stilletos. "I do hate getting blood on my favorite pair of Valantinos."

Smecker leaned over to look. "That is a shame. They give your calves the perfect curve."

She raised her eyebrows. "Oooh, if you weren't gay, Paul, we could have such a sweet time together."

Smecker wrinkled his nose. "Sweetheart, God didn't make them much hotter than you, but if you keep up that talk, I'm going to throw up in my mouth a little bit."

Connor was sure he must be hallucinating. "What the fuck is this?"

Murphy and Smecker exchanged glances, but neither offered an explanation. Bloom shook her head and sighed loudly. "Allow me to explain," she said. "I do apologize that you were not informed of our little ruse, but you see, time was of the essence, and we simply did not have time to contact you before hand."

"What in God's name are you talking about?"

Smecker took over. "When we arranged the riot that led to your release, Murphy was supposed to get out with you. He, as you know, got himself thrown in the hole that morning." He paused to pass on a nasty look to Murphy who replied with a middle finger in the air. "We knew that it was only a matter of time before he got released back into Gen Pop, so we arranged a little incident to get him out."

Connor looked from Smecker to Murphy. "They said on the news that you were stabbed."

Murphy grinned at him and lifted his shirt. A bandage that was now red from where the blood soaked through covered half of his side. "That part was true."

Smecker continued, "Then it was just a matter of injecting a little Succinylcholine while he was in the infirmary to give a very convincing illusion of death. Those clowns who dare to call themselves doctors never knew what the fuck hit 'em."

"Then," Bloom picked up the story again, "we contacted a special priest to make a request for the body. And that's all she wrote."

"Excuse me,"

They all turned to see Sister Lucille making her way to them.

"I don't mean to interrupt this beautiful family reunion, but I am pretty sure that the police will be on their way soon. I think it would be better if you were gone when that happens." She paused and gave them a small smile. "Especially since three of the four of you are suppose to be dead."

Smecker grabbed her and kissed her cheek. "You are wise beyond your years, Sister."

Connor gave her an incredulous look. "You mean you were in on this the whole time?"

"Well, not all of it, but enough. This, though," she indicated the dead bodies still laying around the room and sighed. "This was most unexpected."

"And you can handle the cops?" Smecker asked.

"Of course, I can. We heard a ruckus in the church. When we arrived, we found this."

Bloom raised an eyebrow. "A nun who covers up a mass shooting in the church. Now I've seen it all."

Sister Lucille smiled at her. "That is what confession is for, my dear. It is a shame, but they were not men of God, and while I abhore violence, I am glad that none of my dear sisters were hurt."

A thought occurred to Connor. He turned to Murphy. "How did you know I was here?"

"We went to McGinty's, assuming you'd be there. Maggie told us what happened and suggested that we come here."

"Shit," Connor said, "we've got to get to her. O'Rourke is still looking for that evidence. It's a good bet that he'll go after her."

Murphy was already headed toward the door. "Well, let's get the fuck out of here then."

As they headed out into the daylight, Connor saw the two thugs who had been left outside to guard the church. They were both laying in pools of their own blood. Connor guessed the culprits had been Smecker and Bloom. He followed the others to the curb where a black hearse waited. Bloom climbed into the driver's seat with Smecker next to her. Murphy pulled the back open and crawled into the long, empty space.

"What the fuck is this, then?"

Smecker watched him from the front seat. "Urban camouflage. How else were we suppose to get your brother out of prison?"

Murphy grinned. "It's the closest we'll ever get to riding in a limo, so enjoy it."

"Let's just get back to McGinty's," Connor said.

Murphy raised an eyebrow. "Why in such a hurry, Connor? You really that worried about the girl? Maybe you've got a thing for her?"

"Would ya shut the fuck up?"

Murphy snickered. "Ooo...a wee bit touchy, eh? She is hot, and it has been a long time. Maybe you need a little..."

Connor reached across the car and shoved him. "I said shut the fuck up."

"Don't fucking push me!" Murphy pushed back. Connor lunged again and the two of them became entangled; rolling back in and forth in the back of hearse, hitting and cursing each other.

"Hey!" Bloom yelled from the driver's seat. "If you two don't cut that shit out I'm gonna stop this car and make you walk the rest of the way."

Smecker adjusted his mirror so he could see the scuffle. "I don't think it worked, mom," he snickered.

She was going to make a snide remark, but forgot about it as the hearse pulled up to the curb in front of McGinty's. "Oh fuck."

The words caught the brother's attention and from where they both laid sprawled in the back, they looked up to see out the window. Black smoke engulfed the bar, making it nearly impossible to see anything behind the glass windows. But it wasn't enough to hide the flames that were coming up from the top of the bar.

"Shit!" Connor cried as he jumped out of the back of the hearse; Murphy on his heels. He leaped over the steps leading to the door and grabbed a hold of the handle. He jerked his hand back.

"Get back." Murphy shouted. Connor stepped back as his brother brandished a pistol and fired. The glass shattered. Both of them pulled the front of their shirts up over their noses and stepped inside. The fire was contained at the bar area, so they could easily maneuver through the tables. Smecker and Bloom followed.

"We'll see about the fire," Smecker said. "Go see if she's upstairs."

Connor nodded and took the back stairs two at a time with Murphy right behind. The smoke burned his eyes causing them to water. When he reached the closed door at the top of the stairs, he wasted no time kicking it in.

Maggie was at the back of the room, sitting in a straight-backed chair. Her head was hanging down; her hair covering her face.

"Maggie!" he cried from the door, coughing uncontrollably. "Maggie, we've got to get out of here."

When he received no response, he knelt in front of her. "Maggie." He pushed her sticky hair up and out of her sweat drenched face. Her watery, red, eyes were looking at him, but she didn't seem to be registering his presence. "Maggie, what the fuck is wrong with you?"

"This could have something to do with it," Murphy said from the other side of the room. He was holding up a used hypodermic needle.

Connor pushed up Maggie sleeve and felt the bile rise up into his throat as he stared at the bloody puncture marks in her arms. "Shit. Murphy gimme a hand!"

Without question, Murphy was by his side. "Looks like your girl fell off the wagon," he said, noticing the scars on her arm.

"She didn't fucking do this to herself," Connor said, pulling one arm around his shoulder. "Now help me!"

Murphy took her other arm, and the two of them lifted her up. Her head lolled back and forth. "Come on, Maggie," Murphy said, "we're gonna get ya outta here."

By the time they made it out the back, Smecker had already pulled the hearse into the alley. He helped Connor and Murphy load Maggie into the back. "We were able to put the fire out, fortunately I don't think it did too much damage."

Murphy sighed loudly as he watched his brother climb into the hearse to sit next to Maggie. "I don't think we can say the same for her."

Maggie lay between Connor and Murphy. She wasn't asleep or awake. Her head lolled back and forth and she began to speak in whispers.

"What's she saying?" Murphy asked.

Connor shook his head, "I don't know."

Somewhere in the background, sirens could be heard getting closer. "We need to go," Bloom said as she opened the driver's door.

"Where?" Smecker asked, getting into the seat next to her.

"Back to Saint Katherine's," Connor called from the back.

"Are you fucking mad?" Murphy said. "That place will be crawling with cops."

Connor shook his head. "We're not going to the church." He turned to Bloom. "Go to South Ash Street. Park in front of the cemetery gates."

"You got it." Bloom said. Connor turned back to this brother. "I know a way in."