1.

"Evidence, I suppose." Pausing to look her over again, Mikey raised an eyebrow. "Unless your hiding it in that pretty little pussy of yours, it's not on your person. Where is it?"

This time she laughed at him. "You don't think I would be stupid enough to bring it with me, do you?"

Gritting his teeth to keep from smacking her, he reached up to tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear. "I never did give you enough credit, did I?" he said. "Where is it?"

She took a step back, just out of his reach and pointed at the monitors. "Take a look."

On the front entrance monitor, standing on the other side of the street, he could see a petite woman with short blond hair, wrapped in a trench coat. He was pretty sure that she hadn't been there before. "Who the fuck is that?"

Maggie willed her pounding heart to slow down. She had to make this good. Selling her story was the only way to buy enough time for the boys. "Just a friend. She's got the evidence. After I speak with Doyle, I'll get it from her. If I don't come out in twenty minutes, or if any of your goons try to get to her, she's gone. Straight to the cops."

Mikey went to the desk and dug out a pack of smokes from the top drawer. "Why now, Mags?" He paused just long enough to light his cigarette. "Why all of the sudden are you wanting to cooperate with Doyle?"

Maggie waited before she answered. "Because I don't want to die," she said plainly. "You have already proven that you can get to me whenever you want." She held out her arms for proof. "I want to make a deal with Doyle. I give him his evidence; I get left alone." She watched him mull it over as he inspected the end of his cigarette. Would he believe her?

"And what about McManus? You two seemed pretty cozy at the bar."

"He's gone," she answered. "He's brought me nothing but trouble. Including bringing your sorry ass back into my life. I have no use for him, so I sent him packing."

In the next moment, he moved too fast for her to react. With quick strides he was back in front of her. With one swift stroke, he backhanded her across the cheek. Before she could recover, he grabbed the front of her shirt and shoved her up against the wall with his fist to her throat.

"You stupid druggie bitch, did you really think that I would buy that shit?" He turned only long enough to address Drake and Gilliam. "Go get the girl. If she gives you any trouble, shoot her. I want that evidence." Then he turned to the two men standing in the back. "Go check the slip. Tell Ryan and Black to look out for anyone coming in the back."

Gilliam and Drake nodded and opened the front door. They never made it out onto the sidewalk. Two well placed bullets knocked them backwards into the doorway. Maggie seized the momentary distraction to put a knee to Mikey's crotch. He doubled over, howling, and went for the gun in his waistband. Maggie didn't give him a chance to use it. Her boot shot out and caught him in the chin. He jerked backwards, landing on his back,

The two men at the back swung around just as the steel door blasted open. Connor was the first one through. He took aim with his Glock and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened.

"What the fuck?" asked Murphy.

Connor shook his gun. "Must've gotten wet! Get back!" He shoved Murphy back through the doorway as the two men fired. One of the bullets ricocheted off the door jam, slicing through Murphy's shoulder.

"Son of a bitch!" he howled.

"Take this one," Smecker said, handing Connor his back-up weapon.

Connor listened as they emptied their clips. Fucking idiots. When they stopped to reload, he and Smecker stepped back into the doorway and fired.

Blood was dripping from Mikey's face to the floor, as he lay there stunned. Maggie was not going to give him an opportunity to get back up. She kicked him again, this time in the ribs, he spat blood as he groaned. "How does that feel, Mikey? To be helpless while getting the shit kicked out of you!" She kicked again. "You worthless piece of shit."

By this time, two more men were coming down the stairs. They stopped at the bottom of the stairs, leveling their sites on Maggie. "Uh-huh, boys," They glanced at the front door just long enough to see Bloom take aim and fire.

Connor and Murphy found Maggie standing over Mikey's body. The blood had drained from her face and she looked like she would fall over at any moment. Connor shot a look at Smecker and Bloom. "Get Doyle!" He pointed up the stairs. "This asshole is ours."

He reached down and pulled Mikey up to a kneeling position. "You got a lot to answer for, fucker."

Murphy stepped up behind Mikey, but Connor stopped him. Instead, he turned to Maggie and held out his gun. "Would you like to do the honors?"

The McManus brothers stepped back as Maggie took the gun and walked up behind Mikey, shoving the barrel to the back of his head. "No," he cried, but fell into another coughing fit. Blood poured from his face and his lip was already swollen so that he couldn't even beg for his life.

"I've dreamt of this for too long, Mikey." She stared at the back of his head and prepared to pull the trigger. Something stopped her. She couldn't do it. Why the fuck can't I pull the trigger? Why can't I end this? This is what I was told to do, damn it! Her hand started shaking uncontrollably. She was losing it. Then she felt a hand on hers. It was Connor. He gently pulled the gun from her hand.

"You don't have to do this."

She stared at him, and suddenly she felt numb. No feelings, no expectations. She nodded and let him have the gun. He moved her back and nodded to Murphy who took his place beside his brother.

"And shepherds we shall be, for thee, my Lord, for thee..."

Then the world fell into a surreal slow motion. Maggie wanted to look away, but she couldn't.

"Power hath descended forth from Thy hand,

That our feet may swiftly carry out Thy command,"

The scene swirled around her as the words echoed through her brain. It was like she was listening in a vacuum.

"So we shall flow a river forth to Thee,

And teeming with souls shall it ever be."

Then there was calm.

"In Nomini Patris, et Filii, Spiritus Sanctus."

The guns sounded off as one, and she watched with detached interest as Mikey's head jerked violently and his body fell to the ground. The world began to catch back up to real time, and as her eyes refocused, she found Connor and Murphy before her; watching her with concern.

"Are you alright?" asked Connor. He reached up and ran the pad of his thumb lightly across her cheek. It hurt, but she wouldn't admit it to him.

She nodded, but found that her head still felt heavy. "Yeah, I think so. I just couldn't..."

"Hey," Murphy said, "don't worry about it. It's okay."

Footsteps above them made the three turn. Connor and Murphy raised their guns. Smecker and Bloom stood on the second landing, holsering their weapons. "Doyle's gone," said Smecker.

"What the fuck?" said Murphy.

Bloom shook her head. "He must've heard the commotion and high-tailed it," she said.

"Motherfucker!" Murphy shouted, emphasizing his anger by kicking a stack of boxes next to the wall, then having to jump out of the way as they fell, nearly crushing him.

"Speaking of high-tailing it," Smecker said as she escorted Bloom down the stairs, "we better get out of here and regroup back at the convent. Then we can decide what to do next."

2.

The ride back to the convent was silent. The bloodied and tired group had no energy for conversation. They found soon found themselves back in the sitting area again, though none of them actually sat anywhere. Maggie disappeared into her room, while the others stood around looking lost. Sister Lucille brought tea and coffee, setting the tray on the coffee table.

"You all look like you've had a rough day," she said, trying to lighten the mood. No one responded. "I will have some food sent up, and I will call Sister Josephine to tend your wounds."

"What this?" Murphy asked indicating his bloody shoulder, "It doesn't hurt."

Lucille eyed him suspiciously, "Are you lying to me?" Murphy seemed to crumble under her gaze, "Yes Sister."

Lucille nodded with a smile, "I've still got it."

Smecker was barely able to force a smile. "Thank you, Sister."

Maggie appeared again. She had a bundle of blankets in her arms. Lucille stopped her. "What is this?"

"Oh," Maggie said, embarrassed. "I got some blood on your sheets. I thought I would take them back with me and wash them."

Lucille smiled at her as she took the bundle. "We are more than capable of washing the sheets."

"But..."

"Don't worry yourself anymore about it," Lucille said and disappeared down the hallway before Maggie could protest further.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going?" Murphy asked.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Back to McGinty's," she said, "that's where the fuck I'm going. I still have a bar to run, you know."

"Maggie," Connor said, "you know, the fire did quite a bit of damage."

Her expression softened. "That's why I need to get back. I've got to start picking up the pieces some time. May as well be now."

He stuck his hands in his pocket. "Maybe I should go with you. Just to make sure everything is okay."

On the sofa, Smecker and Murphy looked at each other and then said, "Oooo..." while making kissy faces.

Connor scowled at them, but Maggie only smiled. "I suppose it would be easier to have someone there with me. But only if you want to go - I don't want to be anyone's obligation."

Ignoring the peanut gallery, Connor shook his head. "Not at all. I need to get away from these fuckers for a minute."

Maggie giggled. "Alright, then, lead the way."

As they headed toward the stairs, Murphy called to them. "Have fun, you two." He and Smecker fell into a convulsion of laughter. Connor shook his head and started down the stairs followed by Maggie. Without even looking back, she threw her arm out and flipped them both the bird.

As the laughter on the sofa faded, Murphy said, "I think I like her."

Sister Lucille reappeared, carrying a tray of sandwiches. She nodded back toward the stairs. "It appears those two have some unfinished business."

"Ha!" Murphy cried, snatching a sandwich from the tray. "You don't know my brother. He's not what you'd call a Casanova when it comes to the ladies."

"Oh, I don't know," said Bloom, "I think he'll figure it out."

Lucille smiled at Murphy. "And what about you? Are you on the market?"

He shook his head with a mouth full of food. He swallowed before he answered, "It would take some psychotic kind of girl to put up with my shit, Sister, someone just as fucked up as me. And I think Connor already found her." He shoved the rest of his sandwich into his mouth.

Lucille shook her head, "I'm sure she's out there somewhere."

Sister Josephine appeared seemingly out of nowhere. She was carrying a first aid kit in her hands. "Would you like me to see to that?" she asked Murphy, pointing to his shoulder.

Murphy smiled at her. "Why that would be lovely, thank you." He started following her down the hall.

Smecker scowled as he passed. "She's a nun, Murphy," Murphy ignored him. "She's married to Jesus," he called louder as the two of them disappeared into one of the rooms.

Lucille giggled. "I wouldn't worry about Josephine, she was a Marine before she took her vows. If he tries anything, she might just break his fingers."

"Good to know," said Smecker.

Then Lucille's tone turned serious. "Where will you go now?"

Bloom, who had been silently raiding the sandwich tray, swallowed the last of her croissant. "Boston is definitely not an option. We'll have to get out of town as soon as we can."

"All of you?" Lucille asked.

Smecker nodded. "It appears that Murphy is on board. Since we already faked his death anyway, he really has no choice. I guess it will be up to Connor whether he stays or goes."

3.

The front door of McGinty's had yellow tape stretched across the broken glass in an X shape calling for anyone who approached to keep away. Any police presence that may have put the barrier up was absent. Maggie and Connor stood and stared for a moment. "Sorry for the door. Murphy shot out the glass." He rubbed the back of his neck. "He can get carried away sometimes."

She shrugged. "I'll tell the insurance company that's how Mikey got in. They'll fix it."

"Maybe we should go round back," he suggested.

She set her jaw. "The fuck I will. This is my place and no god-damned strip of tape is going to keep me out of it."

Connor smiled as he followed her through the tape. She stood just inside the door, staring at the blackened bar. The fire extinguisher that Smecker and Bloom had used to put out the fire stood empty near the service well. Apparently they had been able to douse the flames before it could engulf the whole bar.

Glass from broken liquor bottles crunched under her boots as she walked aimlessly around the bar. Simply trying to process the last few days was making her head hurt. She found an intact bottle of tequila, pulled it from the back of the bar, and poured two shots. He picked his up. "Here's to fighting the good fight." Their glasses clinked and they threw the tequila back.

Connor screwed up his face. "I hate tequila."

"Yeah," Maggie said.

Then he became visibly uncomfortable. "Can I ask you something personal?"

Maggie giggled and poured another shot. "Connor, you've seen me strung out and hallucinating – talking to angels of all things – it doesn't get much more personal than that. Shoot."

"Yeah, it's actually about that," he said. "When Murph and I were in your room. You said that we couldn't help you because we made you. What did that mean?"

By this time, Maggie had found a loose strand of hair that she began twisting around her finger. "Man, I was so fucked up. Seeing things, ya know? There's no telling..."

He shook his head. "No, this was not part for your hallucination – or vision – or whatever you want to call it. This was different. You were different. Tell me what you meant."

She reached for the bottle again, but thought better of it and pushed it away instead. She grabbed Connor's smokes from the bar and lit one. "Okay, here goes. It was my senior year in college," she continued, "I was going to be journalist. The Yakavetta trial was going to be my thesis paper." She paused to take a long drag; blowing the smoke out slowly in a steady stream. "Then the three of you showed up. Waving your guns and spouting shit about being avengers for God. I didn't want to watch. But your da made me. He told me it all be over soon."

Realization crashed into Connor like a Mac truck as he flashed back to that fateful day in the courtroom. The whole ordeal had been mostly a blur. Everything had moved so quickly that the young girl in the front row who dared to look away had never truly registered. Now it was clear. Now he recognized her face. The face of what was left in the wake of their quest for vengeance.

"But it wasn't all over. It never was," she continued. "The image was seared into my brain like a fucking brand." She paused to collect her thoughts. "The pills started so that I could sleep at night. But the nightmares were worse than not sleeping. Then I started taking whatever I could to stay awake. Eventually, I was taking anything just to make myself forget. Everything that I had been raised to believe about my faith was ripped apart. All the talk about forgiveness and turning the other fucking cheek...it all meant nothing."

Connor could do nothing more than listen as she spilled her guts to him. He wondered idly why she wasn't screaming at him; telling him how fucked up her life was because of him and his family.

As if she was reading his thoughts, she continued. "I used to be angry. Pissed as shit," she said, crushing out her cigarette. "When Father O'Donnell asked me to pick you up at the Hoag, I almost said no."

"Why didn't you?"

She shrugged. "Partly because it was what Doc would've wanted; partly out of curiosity. I wanted to see what had happened to the men who changed my life all those years ago."

"And what did you find?"

She watched him for a moment as if she was trying to memorize his face. "You're different than I imagined you'd be. And over the past few days, well, I've seen and done alot of shit. I know why you do what you do now. You protect the innocent from dickheads that the loopholes in our fucked up justice system keep putting back on the street."

Letting out a small breath, Maggie took a step forward and walked with purpose to the back of the bar. Connor followed. At the far end of the bar, on a high shelf she reached up and grabbed a bottle, hugging it tightly to her.

"What's that?" he asked.

"I told you that Doc gave up his spot in the cemetery for your Da. Well, he had to go somewhere, right?" She set the whiskey bottle on the bar for him to see.

Picking it up to examine closer, he could see the ashes through the glass. He smiled. "Well, he's looking quite well, isn't he?" He set it back on the bar. "I thought Catholics weren't supposed to be cremated."

"At the end, he really didn't give two shits about what the Catholic Church had to say on the matter. "'Margaret, Darlin', when I go, burn me up and toss me ashes into the ocean! I always loved the ocean." She ran her finger along the bottle. "I just haven't been able to do it yet. It's the only thing I have left of him. Especially now that the bar is half gone."

Conner watched as various emotions crossed her face, but he had no idea how to respond. He figured the best thing to do was wait for her.

She let out an embarrassed laugh. "I guess it's kinda creepy isn't it? Keeping him in a whiskey bottle behind the bar. The last thing he said to me was, 'I'm proud of ye, Maggie. Take good care of yourself. And above all, make sure that you are happy.'"

Not really sure how he got there, Connor found himself standing in front of her. "And are you happy?" Then he thought better of it. "I mean, before all of this, were you happy?"

A slight blush crept across her pale cheeks but she managed to maintain eye contact with him. It was beginning to make him nervous. "Happiness is subjective, I suppose."

Still watching her, he lifted the bottle and set it back behind the bar.

"It goes on the top shelf," she said.

He smiled at her and put the bottle back in its rightful place. Unable to stand the tension any longer, he finally gave in and bent down to kiss her. It was light kiss for he was still unsure how she would respond. He needn't have worried. Maggie lifted onto her tiptoes and took the initiative to deepen the kiss. Connor's entire body was a mess of knots but still managed to do a number of somersaults. Christ, he thought, is this really something I should've started?

His head was still swirling when she broke the kiss and looked at him through dreamy eyes. "Let's go upstairs," she said in a husky voice.

He reached up and pushed a stray piece of hair behind her ear. "Are you sure? I mean, after everything that's happened..."

"After everything that's happened," she said, "I could use a few moments of good in my life."

Connor raised an eyebrow. "Just a few moments?"

She shook her head and laughed. "Shut up and come on before I change my mind."

There was no argument left in him as she took his hand and guided him out from behind the bar, through the back, and up the stairs.

4.

It was the ringing of the bells that jolted both Connor and Maggie from their fitful rest. They sat straight up in Maggie's bed, looked at each other, then at the figure standing at the end of bed.

"What the fuck?" Maggie shouted, pulling the sheet up to cover her nakedness. Her sudden movement caused her to lose balance and she tumbled out of bed onto the floor, taking the sheet with her.

An exposed Connor scrambled for something to cover himself but had to make do with a pillow. "Da?"

Il Duce smiled at them both through gritted teeth hanging on to his ever-present cigar. He laughed as Maggie stood up, pulling the sheet tighter around her. "Don't worry, luv, you don't have anything that I haven't seen before."

"Yeah, well, I'd rather have the choice of who I expose myself to," she snapped.

"Feisty," he remarked, "I like you."

Connor, who now had a towel wrapped around his waist, joined them, "What are you doing here, Da?"

Il Duce cocked his head at his son and looked at him as if he should know the answer.

Maggie spoke instead. "It's about my vision, isn't it?" He nodded. "What did it mean? He said that I was supposed to carry on this crusade. But I wasn't...I couldn't..."

"Slight misunderstanding, darlin' that position had already been filled." He reached down and placed a hand on her stomach. "You were called for this. You are the vessel that shall carry forth the charge."

With wide-eyes, Maggie could barely manage to speak. "What are you...? You mean..." She looked at Connor whose flabbergasted expression mirrored her own, "No, that's not possible. I mean, we just..." Surely this couldn't be happening. She hadn't been with anyone in God knows how long. She gave an inward sigh. I suppose this would be how it would turn out. First time out the gate, and I get knocked up.

Il Duce's playful gaze and her want to smack him. He glanced from Maggie to Connor, his smile fading. "My grandchildren will carry on. You and your brother have to protect them."

Connor nodded. "Yes, Da."

Maggie glared at him. Is he being serious right now? "Yes, Da?' That's all you have to say?"

He locked eyes with her, a set expression on his face. "Yes."

"Did you know then?" she asked Il Duce, "At the court house that day, did you know this was going to happen?"

He shrugged. "I had a feeling, but that was all. Of course, I had no idea it was going to play out the way it did." He put his cigar back in his mouth and placed a hand on her cheek. "I am sorry for that. But it did bring you here."

It was at that moment that she finally understood, all of it. Everyone involved. None of them had chosen it. They had been chosen, and no matter what they said or did, they could not get away from it. Connor knew this to true, and now so did she.

5.

When she opened her eyes, her head was still on her pillow. She was laying on her side, half covered by a sheet; one leg hanging off the edge of the bed, the other entwined with Connor's. She turned to look at him to find that he was awake also. Together, they awkwardly sat up. Taking a deep breath, she ran a hand through her tangled hair. "Did that really just happen?"

He nodded and then reached over to touch her stomach through the sheet. "Yes."

A long minute seemed to stretch on forever as both of them searched for something to say. "Well, what do you think we do now?" she said.

He shrugged. "I guess we should get married?"

The words made her cringe even more than the uncertainty in his voice. She narrowed her eyes at him. "Are you out of your fucking mind?" Immediately she regretted her harsh tone when she saw his expression. Her face softened. "I mean, we pretty much just met, right?"

He gave her a small smile. "I suppose your right. Maybe we just play it by ear. We'll work something out."

She nodded. "Yeah, I think that would be a good idea."

He lay back on his pillow and gently prodded her to do the same. Glancing out the window, she could see that it was still dark outside, so she did, resting her head on his shoulder. He put his arm around her and pulled her a bit closer. This was not what she had planned when she had brought him up to her room. A quick romp. That was all she had expected. Then he would leave, and she would reopen the bar. Business as usual. Now they were bound together. She had no choice in the matter. She would mother his children, and they would follow in their father's footsteps. It was written. It was done.

To her surprise, the final realization brought with it a certain comfort. This was her calling. Those were the thoughts on her mind as she closed her eyes and drifted to sleep again.

6.

It was the sound of the door banging open that woke Connor again. He jerked up, shielding his eyes from the sunlight streaming in from the window. Maggie was right behind him.

"I knew it!" Murphy crowed from where he stood in the doorway. "Hey!" he yelled behind him, "I was right!"

"Well, bully for you." Smecker's faint voice came from downstairs.

Murphy skipped into the room and stood at the end of the bed.

"Christ!" Maggie yelled, pulling the sheets up around her. "Doesn't anyone in your family know how to fucking knock?" Connor was already pulling on his jeans.

Murphy cocked his head and raised an eyebrow. "What the fuck's that suppose to mean?"

When he finally located his t-shirt at the other end of the room, Connor shook his head. "I'll explain later."

"Why don't the two of you have that discussion downstairs," Maggie growled, searching the room from her place on the bed.

Connor grabbed his brother by the scruff of the neck and led him toward the door. "Not really a morning person is she?" Murphy quipped.

"Apparently not," Connor said. "Let's go."

Murphy stopped suddenly, stooped over and picked something up off the floor. "You'll probably need these," he said, flinging the lace underwear at Maggie. He dodged just in time to avoid the pillow aimed at his head, then bolted out the door before she could find something more dangerous to fling at him. Connor followed, closing the door behind him.

"There better be some fucking coffee made when I get downstairs!" Maggie yelled through the door.

"Whew," Murphy breathed, "I bet she gave you a helluva time last night."

"Shut the fuck up Murphy!" Connor growled, but Murphy was already half way down the stairs, laughing the entire way down.

Connor was relieved to find three Starbucks cups sitting on the bar when he arrived. He and Murphy grabbed one. Smecker was standing at the far side of the bar tossing darts at the board on the wall. Bloom was sitting on a bar stool with her legs propped up in the seat next to her. An opened newspaper his her face. She gazed over the top at Connor.

"I told him not to go up there," she said.

Connor glared at his brother before snatching the cigarette that he was about to light from his hand. Smecker put his darts down and returned to the bar, taking the seat next to Bloom's stilettos.

"Well?" Connor asked, "What's the plan?"

Smecker lit his own cigarette. "We've still got work to do."

"Doyle," Murphy said. "That fucker got away, we gotta track him down and cap his ass."

Smecker nodded. "Maggie wasn't exaggerating when she said that he could disappear. Apparently, he's got contacts all over the world. I've talked to a few people who gave me some directions to go in."

"Well, let's get going," Murphy said.

"Wait," said Connor, "there's something you need to know." He gave them an abridge version of the previous night's events, including the visit from Il Duce. As they listened, Smecker and Bloom exchanged worried glances, but didn't seem shocked. Murphy was the only one who expressed surprise.

"Jesus, Connor," he said, shaking his head, "you don't waste any fucking time, do you? Okay, so what now?"

Bloom finally dropped her feet from the chair and sat up straight. "Well, why don't we ask Maggie what she thinks."

They turned where Maggie was standing at the end of the bar. She had a bag duffle bag flung over her shoulder. She gave them each a resolute look. She had already made up her mind.

Smecker stood up, offering his hand to Bloom who took it and stood herself. "Looks like the decision has already been made," he said.

Maggie nodded, walked past Connor to the far end of the bar. She pulled the whiskey bottle down from the top shelf, gazed at it for a moment, and placed it in her bag. Looking around the bar for the last time, she mentally prepared herself for what was to come as they left McGinty's one by one and piled into the waiting hearse. This was her life now. For better or worse, she had been pulled into it for a purpose. She glanced down at her stomach. And now she knew what that purpose was.