Five

Flynn

“What the fuck happened here?” I asked.

The warehouse was filled with my soldiers, all of them alive and accounted for. Thankfully. Nobody was nursing wounds as far as I could see. Yet there was blood. So much fuckin’ blood leading from the driveway all the way up to the warehouse.

They parted ways, an eerie silence in the room as I slowly stalked forward. I studied their faces with a menacing glare as I looked each soldier in the eye, moving from man to man. None of them were brazen enough to meet my gaze, their heads downcast in shame.

“Where’s Colin?” I demanded.

“Over here, boss,” Colin called out.

And that’s when I saw my best friend–my cousin–covered in blood and gore. But it wasn’t his own. It belonged to the two dead bodies lyin’ at his feet.

Both in uniform.

“You killed not one, but two pigs, Colin?” I almost shouted. “What were you thinking? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

The job was supposed to be a quick—in and out—an easy delivery of guns over to the Russians. In our line of work, jobs didn’t get any fucking easier than that. But nothin’ was certain in traffickin’. Especially when your alliance was one of your greatest enemies. And most of the time, the easy jobs didn’t end up with two dead cops.

“I didn’t kill ‘em, Flynn,” Colin said. “I just cleaned up the mess.”

“Then who did it?” I demanded. “Who fucking killed them?”

Colin looked over at Sean but didn’t say a word. He was studiously avoiding my gaze, but he was pale as a fucking ghost. I walked over to him, grabbed him by his shirt and forced him to meet my eyes.

“You? You killed these two fucking cops?” I hissed, my voice low.

“T – t – they were following us, Flynn,” he stammered. “What was I supposed to do?”

“And what if there were more of ‘em? More that you didn’t see followin’ ye? What were you gonna do then? Hmmm?” I pressed. “Were you just gonna kill them, too?”

“I–uhhh–I dunno what I would have done.”

“You stupid, stupid bastard,” I said, shoving Sean to the side. “This is a death sentence for us, you know that? An automatic death sentence for killing one of Chicago’s finest, much less two. And you better believe that the entire force will be looking for these officers.” I raked my hands through my hair, tryin’ to wrap my head around this clusterfuck. “Colin, why’d you bring ‘em here?”

“We had to move fast, and I couldn’t leave them there,” he said. “They would have been traced back to us in a heartbeat. I need to dump the bodies somewhere, but I–”

“Fucking idiots,” I spat.

I stared down at the body at my feet. A pudgy, middle-aged man, likely nearing retirement. I could see the headlines that would be splashed all over the papers sooner rather than later. Beloved family man and police officer killed in the line of duty. Looking for any and all information leading to the arrest of those responsible. Generous reward.

The other cop was a younger man–probably a rookie. A rookie who was being trained by Grandpa over there.

“Get ‘em out of here, Colin,” I said, shaking my head. “Fuckin’ get rid of ‘em and be cautious with every move you make transportin’ the cunt pigs.”

“But where?”

“Figure it the fuck out yourself, why don’t you?” I got in his face and screamed.

“Why me?”

Taking a deep breath, I hovered over Colin. We stared eye-to-eye, and he wasn’t backing down. This was a power struggle—O’Brien versus O’Brien—syndicate boss goin’ toe to fuckin’ toe with his underboss. Colin would pay greatly for this grave mistake, his balls droppin’ at the wrong fuckin’ time to start a damn pissin’ match.

“Because,” I spat, “you were in charge on this job. This was your show to run and you were supposed to be watching the kid. You were supposed to be making sure he didn’t do anything stupid. And yet, here we are with two dead cops on our hands. So yes, this shit’s on you. Clean it the fuck up.”

I turned on my heel searchin’ the warehouse for the soldier. “Sean!” I barked, pullin’ him from his nervous pacin’, his hands shakily tugging at the ends of his hair. I hooked my thumb toward me, and his face fuckin’ paled. His strides were slow and unbalanced, almost as if he’d had one too many Guinness, but I knew it was just adrenaline wearing down.

“B-boss?” he questioned, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his blood-stained pants. “You thought yourself justified in pulling the trigger?” He nods—no words—just a disrespectful fuckin’ nod. “The next time you’re asked a question and you regard me without words, I’ll have your fuckin’ nut sack. Do ya understand?

“Y-yes, sir, boss.”

“You’ll be layin’ the departed to rest. Listen to Colin, and play it smart.” I tap my index finger against his temple. “You understand what I’m orderin’ ya, soldier?”

“Yes, boss,” his reply came steadfast.

I’d deal with Sean’s grave mistake later if it didn’t bite me in the ass beforehand.

Two dead cops. It didn’t take a genius to figure out we were in some deep shit. Whether they were following my guys because they’d gotten a tip or because they happened to be in the area, didn’t matter. All that mattered was that they’d poked their noses where they didn’t fuckin’ belong and their mistake was paid for with their lives. The city of Chicago wasn’t going to just sit on their hands when two of their finest were missing, potentially dead somewhere. The cops would be out looking in full force. I’d seen them launch manhunts before and knew this would be a tedious process that wouldn’t bode well for anyone.

Because the first place the cops were going to start looking for their missing comrades? The last point they’d checked in at with their dispatcher.

The only bright side to the clusterfuck of a night was that I hadn’t heard from my Russian friends about the guns delivery, so it was easy to ascertain that the delivery had been successful. Given what had happened, they might be laying low, too. It was always better to be safe than sorry when there was a cop killed right outside the fucking building.

“Ol’ Ike won’t be happy ‘bout this one, boss,” Red said quietly. “He ain’t one for gettin’ the po-po involved.”

Isaak Sokolov–otherwise known as Ol’ Ike–was the leader of the Russian brotherhood. Which meant that Ol’ Ike was not a guy you wanted to be on the wrong side of given that he was one of the most dangerous men in the city. If he wanted you dead, you were dead. There was no getting around it and no saving yourself. When Ike handed down a death sentence, all sales were absolutely final.

Which made my relationship with him something I took pride in. Being able to broker a deal with Ike and the brotherhood was important because for most of my life, the Russians had been at war with the Irish over territory. It had taken a lot of time, effort, money –and unfortunately blood—but I’d finally managed to get a sit-down, face-to-face meet with him. Something even my father hadn’t done. Once I’d explained to Ol’ Ike all of the ways we could work together and the massively mutual benefits we would all receive, we’d found a way to stop all of the violence and bloodshed.

Now, with this clusterfuck going down right outside of their doors? Red was right. Ol’ Ike wasn’t going to be too happy.

“I’ll deal with him, Red,” I said, patting him on the back. “Don’t worry about it.”

And I would deal with him. Not that I was looking forward to it in any way, shape, or form, but it was all in a days’ work as the leader of my Irish syndicate. These men looked to me. They followed my lead, most of the time without question or reservation. These men, they needed me. And because of all of that, I had to remain strong and unwavering or else this could turn into all-out war.

Colin came back inside and dragged the second body out, that of the larger man. He huffed and puffed, his face red and sweaty as he strained to move the overweight man.

“Fuckin’ pig. Shoulda cut down on the goddamn donuts and cake,” he scowled, turning his attention over to Sean. “Lift with ya fuckin’ legs, Sean, you gobshite fuck.”

“I’m gonna fuckin’ vomit, Colin. Filthy pig is still bleedin’ every-fuckin’-where.”

Colin steeled his spine and took the two steps toward Sean, closing the distance between them. Fury radiated through him, having to dispose of the bodies, but Sean’s whiney-ass was only pissin’ him off further. “Ya’d do well to learn that every action carries consequences, lad. And in this business, those consequences mark a thin line between life and death, or ain’t you learnt that by now?” Colin snapped.

“I acted on fuckin’ impulse, Colin,” Sean pleaded, scrubbing his hand over his face.

“You don’t just go ‘round shootin’ cops whenever you get spooked just because they’re following you, Sean.” I chided, stepping between the two men. “Ya need to learn some control and discipline. This fuck up has cost us some heavy heat, and you’ll be disciplined accordingly once the wind blows over, lad. Now stop bein’ such a fuckin’ pussy, lift with your damn legs, and get this fuckin’ pig outta my sight. The next time you smart off to a boss, you’ll be layin’ in the same hole as this fucker.” I kicked the cop’s limp leg for emphasis.

“Yes, sir.”

Dropping his head, Sean followed the orders given, right down to lifting with his fuckin’ legs, helping Colin load the second body into the van parked outside the shipping doors of the warehouse. We were outside of the city of Chicago proper, and thankfully so. All around us, there was lots and lots of open land that could be used to dig a hole and hide a body. These two goons wouldn’t be the first ones buried out there. Probably wouldn’t be the last, either.

“Fuckin’ rookies,” Colin grumbled as he joined Red, Emmett, and me in the office. “Always fuckin’ shit up.”

“It was a mistake,” I said, shrugging. “A bad mistake that you’re as much responsible for as Sean was.” Colin’s eyes blazed with anger as his mouth parted to interrupt, but I put my hand up, palm out, silently ordering him to keep his feckin’ tongue in check. “When you take lead on a fuckin’ delivery, make sure you have your damn soldiers in check. This could have ended up much worse, and believe me, this is a shit storm we’re all goin’ to be payin’ for, I’m afraid. Not just with the law, but with the Russians as well. I’ll try to mitigate the damage, but we’ll have to lay low for a while.”

“Ol’ Ike’s expectin’ another shipment of guns to be dropped off next week. He ain’t gonna be happy ‘bout this,” Emmett interjected. And he was right, but I’d have to find a way to appease Ol’ Ike for time bein’.

“Given what happened, we might have to wait on that. Just until the heat’s cooled down.” Red and Emmett nodded in agreement, scratching his beard. He’d always been one of my father’s most trusted allies, and he was quickly becoming one of mine, too. Sure, I had Colin, but Colin struggled with my control over the syndicate, often takin’ pussy-fits if he didn’t agree with my commands.

Our visions were much the same, but where I could clearly and consciously make decisions for the betterment of the syndicate, Colin was more of an act now ask later kinda fucker, making rash decisions based on his emotions at that exact moment, and that was a recipe for disaster. Now that I think about it, no wonder Sean reacted so quickly, to shoot the cops on sight. He had, after all, been a trained solider under Colin.

“Like fuck, Flynn. You know if we don’t follow through on the delivery, Ol’ Ike will null the agreement. If that’s the case, we may as well gain the upper hand and strike now while their heads are down. Otherwise, we’re in for a bloodbath.”

Although we were only a year apart, Colin and I, there were times that year made a hell of a difference. You could chalk up a lot of experience in a year’s time. Maybe it was all in how we’d been raised. Me, the son of the boss of the O’Brien Syndicate, it was in my blood to be a leader. Colin knew his place in the organization from an early age, and I got the feeling he wasn’t too fond of that. But it didn’t matter when it came down to the thick of the matter. We were brothers more than cousins, raised side-by-side, and we respected one another. We loved one another.

“Stop bein’ a feckin’ arsehole, Colin, and listen to what he’s feckin’ tellin’ ya, aye?”

Red, though, he was smart. Crafty. Decisive. Loyal. He was a master at playing the game. It didn’t take long for me to figure out why my father trusted him as much as he did. Whenever I was in his presence, I found I was learning valuable resources that I could utilize in my position of power. And though I relied on Colin, it was for far different things.

“We can not—will not—react to every situation with violence, Colin. I’ll handle Ol’ Ike. We’ve got a business to run, and we’ll do so orderly. Is that understood?”

He might be pissed now, but deep down, Colin knew I was right. Like usual, it was just going to take a couple of days for him to process and evaluate it all. He’d come to see that yes, he was partially responsible for this entire mess and it was his duty to teach Sean a lesson. Sean would pay for what he did.

Colin gave me an inscrutable expression before shutting the back doors that told me he knew what he had to do.

It would get done.

I nodded at him and smiled. He flipped me off.

Like I said, we were brothers. And always would be.