Chapter 9: Dum Spiro, Spero – As long as I breathe, I hope

A/N: I just saw All Saint's Day (go see it if you haven't) and it obviously made me want to update. I also made some changes to the rest of the story to make it more accurate and involve more of the characters from both films. I'm still debating whether to change the name of the dad to the one they used in the film or keep it the same because hell it's my story and I like the name. Maybe anyone's who's reading can weigh in.

The rosary beads slipped past Maria's fingers falling on the floor of the church. The sound they made echoed hollowly in the empty room. She breathed in the waxy smell of the lighted candles as the wick of hers began to burn. Saying a short prayer, she picked up the rosary before entering the vacant confessional.

"Bless me father for I have sinned. It's been six weeks since my last confession"

"What do you have to confess, my child?" the priest said calmly.

"I carry hate in my heart for the men who killed my child"

"Grief is tied to many emotions"

"I know father, but tonight I'm going to act on that hate."

"What do you mean?"

"Tonight, I'm going to kill the man responsible for my pain and I'm afraid that all I will feel is pleasure. They deserve to die for what they've done to me and my child but I am afraid to lose my soul"

"Vengeance is never the answer, child. God rewards forgiveness."

"I don't think these men know what God is," Maria's voice grew cold with the realization, "I'm not sure I do either. Thank you father"

"What will you do?" the priest called out desperately.

"What needs to be done." The priest exited the confessional but by the time he did, she was already gone.

"The night is young and you're so beautiful … " Rafe chugged back straight bourbon as he looked upon the people scurrying around the warehouse. "The stars are shining for my beautiful …" He watched the men arm themselves. "I hope you all die," he said with despair.

"What the hell are you doing standing around?" Lucio yelled as he entered the room. "We wouldn't be in this mess if you'd done the job you promised to do and found the MacManus brothers."

"If you weren't such a cold-hearted bastard, we wouldn't be in this situation to begin with." Rafe took another swig from the bottle with an eerie chuckle. "They're going to gut you like a pig"

Lucio pulled out his .45 and leveled it at his son. "Maybe I should save them the trouble of killing you"

Rafe spread his arms w

ide and stared his father down. "I wish you would"

"You aren't worthy to carry the Cicilline name."

"Neither are you."

"They're running scared in there," Detective Greenly said from inside the surveillance van.

"They should be," Agent Duffy replied. "If the Saints don't get them tonight, we have enough to haul them in and make it stick this time."

"Then what are we waiting for?"

"We're going to let the Saints do some of out dirty work for us," Agent Duffy said with a smile. "And when the dust settles we'll have the Saints and Cicciline … and that mole Smecker."

The detectives looked at each other. It was possible that by the end of the night, they might be the ones arrested rather than doing the arresting.

Maria didn't want her husband to know it but her heart was beating out of her chest. Murphy looked at her face and he could see the rising panic behind the eyes. "Are ya sure?" he asked placing one hand on her cheek. Maria looked into his eyes and took a deep breath. She couldn't afford to be a distraction and she wanted to do so. She looked at the tattoo on his hand and softly pressed her lips into his hand. Then she placed his hand and hers on her stomach, their fingers interlocked.

"I'm sure."

An hour later it was all over. Agent Duffy surveyed the carnage. Because they'd burst in, the usual calling card of the MacManuses, the coins and carefully posed bodies, wasn't there but it was clearly their work. But something was different … off. Agent Duffy stood over the body of Lucio Ciccilline. The one they'd come for. He had two holes in the back of his head, but the exit wounds were different. One had come through the eye and the other lower, closer to the cheek. She was puzzled.

"We got a live one!" Detective Dolly called.

"What?" Agent Duffy walked over to where Dolly was standing. At his feet was Rafe Ciccilline.

"He's out cold but breathing," Dolly said. "It looks like he was hit over the head with the butt of a gun." Agent Duffy started to walk away, contemplating. "It ain't the Saints. They don't leave no one alive."

"Oh, it's the Saints all right," Duffy said. "It's just that they've added a new member to their number."

"A third Saint?" Gr

eenly said, incredulously. "Yeah right. Who is it? Smecker?" They all laughed.

Duffy turned to the detectives with a smile. "It seems Mrs. MacManus has decided to join the family business."

Maria sat at the end of the bar nursing her whiskey as the men celebrated. She had expected to feel better, lighter, after it was over but all she felt was empty. She wasn't sure how many men she'd killed. There had been too many bullets flying and because Murphy refused to leave her side, she didn't know if the bullets piercing the men's flesh had come from her gun or his. But there was one death she was sure she caused. She remembered standing over Lucio, looking down at the man who had taken away her sense of peace, eradicated the simplicity of her life and she'd been filled with hatred. As the words of the prayer slipped from her lips, she knew there was no going back. Her wrist popped from the force of the gun's kickback but she didn't flinch as she shot her round into the back of Ciccilline's head.

She took another sip of the fiery liquid. Maria looked up to find Murphy staring at her. She smiled tiredly and tried not to show the anxiety she felt. They'd killed Lucio but what had it solved? Their lives would never be the same.

Rafe woke up slowly. The fog in his head dissipating as he gathered himself. "I'm glad you're awake," Agent Duffy said. Rafe looked around and saw that he was handcuffed to the hospital bed.

"Am I under arrest Agent?" he said calmly.

"I just didn't want you to get up before you were feeling well," Duffy said sweetly. "You've got a nasty bump on your head. Still it could be worse. You could have two bullet holes in the back of your head." Duffy walked closer to the bed. "The question is: why don't you?"

Rafe thought back to earlier that night. He'd been nearly blitzed when the Saints came into the building but even he could see why everyone thought they were phantoms. One minute it was calm in the warehouse, the next they seemed to be everywhere. The monsters in every mobster's nightmare. They were so fast that at first he didn't even realize she was with them.

She was beautiful to watch. Like poetry. Tall, slender, an avenging angel if there ever was one. The only thing marring the picture was her husband who never seemed to leave her side. Then his brother seemed to get jammed up and Murphy was gone. Rafe seized the moment. He was unarmed and he knew he was possibly inviting his own death but he called her name. She was distracted, only for a moment. He saw one of his father's thugs bearing down on her and pushed her out of the way, the bullet meant for her merely grazing him. He fell on top of her. They looked into each other's eyes and he thought he saw a hint of recognition. Then he was knocked out cold.

Rafe decided to keep this information to himself. "I was blitzed. Drunk. My father knocked me out with his gun. Said he'd rather me sleep it off and I could wake up to see his triumph." Rafe looked at Agent Duffy without a hint of sadness. "I'm assuming my father didn't have quite the triumphant ending he wanted."

"My condolensces," Agent Duffy said. She started towards the door then turned suddenly. "Maria MacManus is very lovely. Too bad she shot your father in the back of the head."

Rafe took his time, thinking over his words. "Too bad for whom?"