Disclaimer: Not mine, no money.
Notes: Five drabbles that tell a story.
Depth of Faith
What Smecker had told that priest was true, even if that damned dumb Italian had made a mockery of his first (only) confession. He believed that the MacManus brothers were correct, were right. It was always right and correct to mete out justice. Despite his dedication to the law – or maybe it was the reason for it – there was that part of him that screamed for justice when the law couldn’t deliver it.
Sometimes, though… sometimes, he read an article on the Saints, caught a few minutes of some newsblurb, and he was forced to remember that justice was blind.
Didn’t seem to matter all the noise around what we did to fucking Yakavetta in that courthouse. The cops didn’t catch us. Maybe that was Smecker’s doing. I’ve never found out.
I wish I’d said something against Da’s idea to not wear masks when we killed that fucking bastard, but I saw this righteous light burning in his eyes, and he said that we’d show our faces and not be ashamed of what we did before God and men.
Used to be that everywhere I went, people asked if I was one of the Saints. Now they just stare, horrified.
Lead story on the 5:30 news
“The Saints of South Boston have struck again, and no matter how their actions have been viewed by the city in the past, this time, there is truly no doubt they are cold-blooded killers.
“Earlier today, the Saints turned two rooms here at the Midtown Hotel into a blood bath, leaving five dead and two wounded, both in serious condition. Their target appears to have been this man, Vassilly Petrovitch Kuzan, a known member of the Russian crime syndicate.
“While the Saints did kill Kuzan and three of his men, their bullets also took the life of an innocent by-stander…”
They weren’t sure which of them had killed her – for a while, they had all been firing bullets indiscriminantly – but Murphy, horrified, said he had. “I saw her,” he whispered, staring blindly at Da’s back. “Saw somethin’ movin’, anyway…”
“How could you be so fuckin’ stupid, then?” Connor demanded, fists clenched. “To just shoot without checkin’…”
“Quiet,” Da ordered softly, without turning from the window. “It doesn’t matter who killed her,” he went on heavily. “It only matters that she’s dead, an’ she was just a little lass.”
Guilt-stricken, they remembered then – Da never killed women or children.
Lead story on the 11:00 news
“In a move that stunned both the Boston Police and the FBI, at least one of the Saints of South Boston has turned himself in to authorities. The man, identified in this sketch as the oldest of the three, is known only as Il Duce. He is said to have been incarcerated in Hoag Maximum Security prison for more than 20 years, prior to being granted parole earlier this year.
“It is unknown whether the other Saints – Connor and Murphy MacManus – have also surrendered to the police.
“Agent Paul Smecker of the FBI Organized Crime Task Force had no comment…”
January 4, 2009
© randi (K. Shepard), 2009