Connor had to admit, it was nice having friends in high places. During their first few jobs they had nothing to rely on but blind luck and faith. And though they still carried both of those in abundance, nowadays they also had connections. Now, they get tips, names, and addresses, almost anything the police knew they knew too. When they found a new target, they get dossiers. When they went on a hit, they had plans. Real plans. They could match faces to names to crimes. And even though they never had doubts about the job before, something about seeing the lists of suspected crimes and victims there in ink helped to strengthen their resolve. Nowadays, they never went in half-cocked. This meant no more bullet wounds, no more iron, no more dead friends…
Connor grimaced at the shiny new blade being held to his brother's throat. Blood was running down the edge from where the knife was digging into the first layers of skin, he watched the tiny bead of red dribble down Murphy's neck until it disappeared into his collar. Once it was gone, Connor lifted his gaze, purposely avoiding Murph's eyes, and locked onto the face of their assailant over the barrel of his gun. The bastard was extremely pleased with himself. He knew he had them.
Connor finally let his eyes meet his twins; they were dancing, Murphy was excited. He gave the blonde a knowing smirk and Connor returned it. Their target was glancing back and forth between them nervously now, obviously expecting to be the center of attention, he gripped Murphy tighter, causing him to hiss in pain. Connor clenched his free hand and tried to quell the anger rising in him. As much pain as Murphy was in right now, it was about to get much worse. He could feel bile rising in his throat as his stomach rebelled at the thought of hurting his twin. But there was no choice. This bastard had to pay, and sometimes you had to make sacrifices.
Murphy was full-on grinning now, practically giddy, his eyes pleading with his twin to just do it already. Connor let out a soft sigh and winked at their confounded attacker before firing his gun…
…straight at Murphy's chest.
His Brother's body jerked back violently, the thug let both him and the knife drop to the floor in shock before whipping his head back towards Connor just in time to receive a bullet square in the face. Connor stood rooted to the spot, staring at the still figure of his twin and the smoking hole in his chest before letting out a small chuckle.
"Oi, Murph! Are yeh still among the livin'?"
"Aye" Murphy coughed out, rising up on his elbows to look at the hole in his jacket, "The vest works a treat, but Smecker never mentioned that it still hurts like a motherfucker."
Connor widened his eyes in mock surprise and held back another chuckle.
"Really? He told me."
Murphy stared blankly at his brother's smug face for about four seconds before retrieving his fallen gun and firing it twice at his now laughing twin.