Chapter 8: La Raza

The next morning, Murphy rolled over and stretched. Sitting up, he dragged himself out of bed, popping a cigarette between his lips. Looking out the window he saw the early morning light starting to eclipse the buildings, flooding the city in sun. Turning, he saw Connor, sprawled out on the mattress beside his with the covers askew snoring lightly. With a chuckle, he quietly moved to the door, taking care not to make too much noise.

He wandered out into the living room and saw Branna curled into a tiny ball on the couch. Her face half buried in the blanket, all he could really see was the loose knot of hair poking out of the top. He wanted to laugh, really, but he didn't know if his heart could take the jovial nature of what he was looking at. Shaking his head, he grabbed the lighter off the table and went to the stovetop. He filled the pot from last night with water and set it to boil. As much as he knew he didn't want to deal with Branna or whatever it was that was going on between them, he knew that it wouldn't do well for either him or Connor if Branna didn't have a coffee first thing in the morning.

Leaning on the counter, he inhaled the nicotine. She hadn't answered him. She just looked at him, confusion on her face. He didn't know how to say what he'd wanted to say. Was she happy now? Happier than she had been before? Was it a normal life she wanted? Could he trust what she said? He didn't know, and it hurt his head to think about it. The water was boiling; he turned to the stove and flicked the burner off.

"Top o' the mornin' to ye." He heard Branna say from behind him.

He turned, holding the pot in one hand, cigarette in the other. She stood there wrapped in the green blanket. Her eyes were bleary and her face looked ruddy, but she looked normal. She looked like the real Branna.

"Ye fancy yerself a leprechaun now d'ye?" he joked lightly; pulling down the mugs that Branna had failed to find the night before. He heard her groan as he filled him up with the hot water. Stirring in the instant coffee he handed her the black mug.

"Would have been nice if ye'd shown me where the blasted mugs were last night Murphy." She sulked, sitting down at the table.

"Maybe, but then I wouldn't have gotten to laugh at ye slammin' me cupboards around." He quipped. She sighed, sipped her coffee and lit a cigarette.

He heard Connor grunting as he shuffled his way into the living room. Murphy stirred the instant coffee and sugar into Connors coffee and sat it on the table. His brother sank down into the kitchen chair, yawning as he took the coffee and gulped it down. Connors looked over at bleary-eyed Branna and then back to Murphy.

"I gots an idea." He said.

Murphy looked over at his brother and groaned. Branna cleared her throat.

"After yer grand idea last night, ye think we should be letting ye make the plans here?" she asked, a hint of a smile on her face.

Connor scowled.

"It's a good fucking plan. What's the problem with both of ye? Negative energy the both of ye. Ye have to BELIEVE in the idea. Force it into reality!"

Murphy laughed at the defiance on his brother's face.

"Aye, the way ye were making it a reality while Branna did all the interrogatin' last night?"

Connor winced. Branna looked over at him and Murphy relented.

"Fine then. Tell us, what is yer next plan of attack?"

Connor smiled, leaning forward with the cigarette hanging out of his mouth.

"I say we find our Mexican."

* * * *

Connor stared at Murphy. The shock on his face was evident. He knew as much as Connor did that Romeo had needed some serious rest and relaxation after their escape from the Hoag, but if there was someone who could find anyone – they could bet that Romeo would find them first.

Sitting in the prison yard, Murphy and Connor looked out at their fellow inmates. They'd been in the Hoag for almost two months. After their first day out of the infirmary, no one really bothered them. It might have had something to do with the fact that Murphy had broken a couple of wrists and Connor had busted the collarbone of one of the few inmates who tried to grab them through the bars. They were still the Saints. They had to watch for any one who could be a threat. So far, their reputation preceded them and they'd had little trouble.

Glancing up at the top window, Connor thought of Romeo. He was still in the infirmary, no longer on life support, but unable to breathe without a machine or walk due to a crushed vertebrae from a gunshot wound. He cursed silently that their friend had been injured so seriously. It had almost been Rocco all over again. Thank the lord, Romeo was still alive, but would he walk again? That was the question.

Looking over at Murphy, he saw his twin scouting the perimeter of the recreation yard they'd been put in. Connor sighed; it was a hot day. He pulled his standard issue shirt up over his head and tucked the flimsy fabric into the pocket of his standard issue pants. Stretching his arms, he nudged his brother. He needed to know what he thought of the situation.

"Que pense tu de la situation?" He asked, using French to somewhat disguise their conversation.

"Beh, évidement, on doit l'échappée." His brother responded.

Connor knew that was the only way. They'd have to escape, break out. There was only one way to do that. The guards in the Hoag were surreptitious about their change times. Their only shot was Romeo. Word had spread about the Mexican still on bed rest. He was supposed to be transported to a local hospital for some MRI's and CAT scans in the next couple of days. If they could somehow manage to get out with Romeo, they could get back to Boston.

"Écoute, on ferai comme ce ci…" he began the planning.

"Romeo, are ye mad?" Murphy questioned.

"The poor fella been hiding out at his uncles healing from the last time we dragged his ass into the shit storm. We can't. He suffered enough when we got him out of the Hoag. Can ye imagine being carried with a broken back? We're lucky we didna do him any more damage!"

Connor nodded in agreement.

"I know, but he's the best lead we got on whats going down on that side of town. He could know something."

He watched his brother stop to ponder this. The reluctance faded and he could see his twin resign himself to the fate.

Over the next couple of days, the boys had schmoozed with the infirmary nurses whenever they got the chance. One pretty little thing in particular was quite fond of Murph, so when he asked if he could visit his dear friend Romeo she'd quite happily agreed and arranged the paperwork for a visit.

In the room, Murphy had had only one job. Disconnect the monitors that helped Rom breathe. Rom would be able to breathe shallow breaths until the machines went off. Connor waited in his cell, separate from his brother across the hall. They were only one floor down from the infirmary. They were in "maximum" security. Single cells, an almost unpopulated floor. One guard. Connor wanted to laugh. This was maximum security? Fuck.

He heard a commotion coming down the stairs. Jumping up, he moved quickly to the bars.

"MURPH!" he called.

A gun went off. Murphy came round the corner with Romeo in a firemans carry and pointing an AK-47 at the guard. With a bloody hand, the guard fumbled through a set of keys.

"Open the door!" Murphy hollered.

"Why isn't the alarm going off?" Connor asked quickly.

"Because I killed the fucker who was going to push it. GET IT OPEN NOW!" he screamed at the guard. "This one was the only one left upstairs. He was on break from our floor. Lucky for us."

The guard's hands shook as he opened the cell door. Connor slipped through the opening and grabbed the guard by the collar.

"Now ye listen here. Yer gonna get us the fuck out of here. All three of us. Right fucking now. Ye hear me?" the guard nodded. "Or I'll have me brother here blast yer fucking head off faster than you can say Charlie Branson."

The guard had led them down a backset of stairs, and after little persuasion, handed Connor his personal vehicle keys. After they had loaded Romeo into the back of the car, Murphy turned around and pistol-whipped the guard, letting the body drop like a sack of potatoes. They'd driven out the gates no questions asked surprisingly. Limo tint worked better than it apparently looked. After a few miles, they'd ditched the guards' car at a truck stop and called Romeo's uncle Cesar. For a few months, they'd hidden in the basement of the Silver Peso.

While Romeo was getting well, the boys had gone on to find suitable living and somewhere they could lay low. The last time Connor had seen Romeo; he'd been in a wheelchair.

* * * *

After much convincing on Connor's part, Murphy finally relented and agreed to go see Romeo. Branna didn't quite understand why it was such a big deal until Murphy explained the situation to her.

"Ye see, Romeo was with us the day that we lost–" She watched him struggle with the words Da. She'd heard about that day. That was the day the infamous Saints of South Boston were captured by the feds. That had been the day she'd learned that Murphy MacManus was in Boston.

"There'd been a shoot out. We'd been looking for the ones responsible for the death of a priest. We ended up at this old mans house, he'd tried to ambush us, in the crossfire, we were all shot up. Romeo took the worst brunt of it though. He was on life support for almost ever in the Hoag. Last time we even seen him he was in a wheelchair. The man can't even walk."

She nodded her understanding. Murphys reluctance to find Romeo wasn't to do with Romeo himself. He didn't want to trouble someone who'd lost so much to help them. She could understand the sentiment. Funny how he felt the same way about Romeo, as she did about having to leave him behind.

It had been a very long and silent walk. Connor led the way, Murphy trailed behind, Branna meandering somewhere in between. Ashing her lit cigarette on the concrete, she slowed her pace to match the sulking man behind her.

"Murphy, ye know it wasn't yer fault right?" She asked quietly as they walked down the street towards the Silver Peso.

He didn't answer her. She knew he blamed himself. He had always blamed himself for everything. She could never get it through his head that people make their own decisions, that it had nothing to do with him. It was part of the reason she'd fought so hard to find Fitzpatrick on her own.

She could not be responsible for someone she loved being hurt for something she did of her own accord. She didn't want Murphy to know about her involvement with the R.I.R.A because she knew he'd want to help her. He wouldn't have wanted her to do it on her own. She couldn't let him make the decision to stand with her because she knew that she wouldn't be able to stop feeling guilty should anything ever happen to him. She suffered the same guilty patterns he did; she understood the agony of the what-if.

Deciding that now was not the time to try and force the idea into his head, she tossed her cigarette to the gutter and caught up to Connor. He was opening the door. She caught the handle as the door swung towards her. Jogging in, she took a seat at the bar beside him. Murphy followed suit and sat down on Connors other side.

There was an older man serving drinks and as he came towards the brothers, his face went from a smile to a frown.

"What are you two doing here?" he asked abruptly.

"Hello Cesar, we came to see Romeo." Connor said with a shrug.

"Romeo is not ready for visitors yet –" the old man started to say when from the steel kitchen doors at the end of the galley style bar swung open.

"That better be my mother fucking leprechauns!"

Branna saw a dark headed man holding a cane hobbling down the bar. His eyes were wild. He was a thin man, approximately the same height as her standing up. When he arrived at the boys, he smiled a wide smile.

"It's about fucking time you two queers came to see me!" He leaned forward with his arm outstretched.

Connor and Murphy both smiled and in turn clasped the mans arm.

"Look at ye! Up on yer feet I see!" Connor smiled widely.

"You bet your sweet ass I am! Where the fuck have you two been? I've been sitting around on my ass here waiting for you two to come and get me! You need La Raza spirit ese."

"We were laying low. We only just opened up shop again." Connor replied with a laugh.

"No thanks to someone." Murphy muttered not-so-quietly under his breath.

Branna stiffened. What had crawled into his pants this morning? She knew he was upset by her lack of response to his oddly phrased question last night, but he was running hot and cold. One minute he couldn't keep his hands to himself, the next he's cursing her under his breath.

"I didna come looking for ye Murphy MacManus! Don't ye try and say this was all my doing. Ye were the one who wouldn't let well enough alone. I don't need ye to hold me hand on this! Ye should know better!" she said curtly.

"Well maybe if someone didn't have to go off chasing the most dangerous man known in Ireland we wouldn't be in this predicament." He countered offhandedly.

Connor pressed a hand to her shoulder to keep her in her seat. Before she could retort the curdling Irishman beside his twin, the dark haired man snapped his head towards her.

"Who the fuck is she?" he asked with a bewildered look on his face.

"My name is Branna Ferguson." She said, trying to focus on the task at hand instead of Murphy's baffling mood swings.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Romeo." He raised an eyebrow; it made his face seem almost comical. "So what brings you fine fellows here today? I know this shit ain't some courtesy call. I told you, you need La Raza!"

"Yer right, we do. Turns out here that Branna has been looking for someone. Long story short is, through a series of unfortunate events, the person she's looking for has managed to get a few pictures of us. We need to find him. He's not a good man." Connor explained.

Romeo nodded. Branna couldn't help but notice how wiry he was. He looked like a bundle of nerves all but ready to explode.

"Tío, utilizaremos su cuarto de la tienda.." He looked over to his uncle, who had moved down the bar and was ignoring the four individuals. Waving them to the side door closest to them, he nodded.

"Come with me, we'll talk"

A/N: Translations XD Hope you all enjoy so far. I'm loving how this story is forming. Let me know what you think, R and R please :D

"Que pense tu de la situation?" – What do you think of the situation?

"Beh evidement, on doit l'echappee." – Well, obviously we need to escape.

"Tio, utilizaremos su cuarto de la tienda" – Uncle, we're gonna use your store room.