Brothers Reborn

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Irish fraternal twin brothers Finnegan & Connor O'Conaire hope to rid of their hometown, Boston Massachusetts of evil and crime. Taking their aim on the Russians and killing them in cold blood, leaving the investigators confused with each murder case on who is responsible. However, the brothers, along with their longtime friend Murray Ó Muireadhaigh soon discover that they cannot cover their tracks forever.

The fraternal brothers will soon realize who has been trying to frame and kill them and, that the same person is someone they should've known from a long time ago.

## Prologue

In the busy streets of Boston Massachusetts, the church bells rung that day at exactly noon. Clusters of families were going up the stairs to the church doors, frantic to find seats before the priest began speaking. Near the back of the swarm of people were two men that walked in sync, the one on the left was at least five inches taller than the one on the right. Both wore pure black trench coats, hands stuffed in their pockets. Each man also had a pair of black sunglasses on which shielded their eyes from the sun's rays.

As they neared the steps to the church the two men took at least three steps at a time, reaching the doors within a minute. Calmly, they entered the cluttered building filled with masses of men, women, and children alike. The men slipped into a booth near the back, placing the bench down they both kneeled. After saying a quick prayer they rose to their feet, quietly walking up towards the altar where a Jesus statue sat precisely in the middle.

The priest continued to speak, seeming unaware of the duo as they each paused to kiss the statue's feet before turning away and walking to the doors. Both men had a gray cross necklace that swung from their necks, and as they stepped outside into the light, they walked down the steps and stopped, putting their sunglasses back on.

The taller one, who had purposely messy blonde hair pulled out a pack of cigarettes, placing one in his mouth while his partner grabbed one and placed it in his own mouth. The younger one grabbed a lighter and lit his as the other man did the same. They each took a puff before lowering the cigars, looking around the streets of Boston.

"Any word from Murray?" the older one, known as Finnegan spoke, lifting his sunglasses to look at his partner. "Nope." Connor, the younger of the duo answered, taking another puff of his cigar. Pausing, they both took their cross necklaces and hid them beneath their trenchcoats.

"Alright, since we're just here might as well find ourselves a drink?" Finnegan said, taking a long drag of his cigar. "Indeed, let us just hope those bloody Russians haven't beat us to it again," Connor answered, his Irish accent thick as he lowered his cigar. The duo began walking towards the bar that was located a few blocks down from the church. Hoping they didn't have a reason to pick any quarrels with the Russians this time.

## Chapter 1

The brothers walked into the bar, causing the bell connected to the top of the door to ring. Upon hearing the door open, the bartender looked up with a smile plastered on his face.

“Welcome back boys! What can I get ya both today?” the bartender spoke, towel in hand.

“Gonna have to go with the Kilbeggan whiskey again,” Finnegan spoke as he sat on a stool, Connor following behind.

“Ya got it,” he answered, quickly mixing the ingredients efficiently and effortlessly as the door opened again. The Irish brothers turned their heads to the door, a group of men strolling on through.

They each eyed one another before the more bulky and muscular Russian slammed his fist on the counter. “Albert, we’re gonna need a round of the usual,” he paused, scarred face drifting over to stare at the Irish men. “cause some unfinished business is going down.”

Albert slid the drinks over to the brothers who downed them in a second. He then made the drinks for the Russians, handing them over one by one. After finishing their liquor, Finnegan and Connor were off their stools, facing the large, built Russians who were staring at them.

“Alright, I’d  say we’re at a stalemate, so why don’t  we take a step back and-” Finnegan was cut short as a fist collided with his face causing him to stumble backward and into a chair. The Russian continued his pursuit on Finnegan as Connor was flung against a booth near the wall, pinned in by a more chunkier Russian. The younger brother grabbed a whiskey bottle, smashing it down on the man’s head making him lose focus. Finnegan was having at it against two of the five Russians in the bar, beating on their faces with no means of stopping.

Connor pulled his gun, firing one bullet into the chunkier Russian’s chest letting him drop dead to the floor. He shot at another without looking, piercing the man in the gut leaving him to curse greatly as he too collapsed, bleeding out.

Finnegan’s foot collided with a Russian’s head forcing him down as Connor attacked the other, slashing his throat in precise movements that left the man gasping for air, blood bubbling in his mouth and lungs before falling to the floor lifeless instantaneously.

They halted their assault, the brothers surveying the damage left in the bar. Albert was still behind the counter, acting as if his bar wasn't  indeed just half destroyed and littered with four dead Russians.

Muttering a prayer, the twins took their leave and walked out of the bar just as sirens could be heard across town. But, as the police and investigators arrived, the only person left as a witness was Albert and the one Russian they abandoned in the carnage alive. The brothers were long gone, back on the way to their apartment.

## Chapter 2

The twins went straight into their apartment and removed their clothing. Finnegan threw on a white robe as Connor showered for a brief amount of time before hopping out. He tossed the younger of them a robe before he himself showered. Connor dried himself as Finnegan stepped out, waist wrapped with a towel. He threw the older twin a robe who slipped it on efficiently.

Suddenly, their door was busted down as the larger Russian from the bar stormed in with a buddy in tow.The one from before stormed over to Finnegan, slamming his gun into his temple, dazing the older of the twins as his friend shoved Connor to his knees, pistol to his temple as well.

The muscular one whipped out a pair of handcuffs and wrenched Finnegan’s hands around their only toilet, snapping the cuffs on in one fluid motion.

His voice was raspy as he spoke with his gun to the older brother’s head, “I come back to kill you, for killing my friends. But, I’ll leave you to starve and kill your brother, put a bullet in his head for putting bullets in my pals.”

He got up as Finnegan began yanking on the cuffs, stuck on his knees as he hollered in agony and renewed fury.

“Connor!” He screamed as the other Russian dragged his brother to his feet, and began pulling him with as Connor yelled, “Just a bloody bar fight y'all are bloody pussies!”

Blood stained the right side of Finnegan’s head as he roared in complete fury at the Russians, “CONNOR!” his brother, upon hearing Finnegan’s fury took one last look at him before being shoved roughly out the door as it slammed shut.

The force of the slam caused their cross necklaces to sway from where they hung on the wall. As soon as they vanished the eldest twin was pulling as hard as he could, screaming in agony through clenched teeth. But the more he yanked, the more his wrists bled. The back door was opened as Connor was led outside into the alleyway.

He then was pushed ahead with more force than necessary. The stockier, meaner looking Russian kicked Connor to the ground, pointing the gun at his head. Up in their room, Finnegan managed to rip the toilet from the cement floor, water spilling out immensely. He slowly walked to their balcony which was directly above the Russian who held his twin at gunpoint.

Connor had a scowl on his face as the Russian spoke, “Now, you die while your brother is cuffed to a toilet.” he laughed, cocking the gun.

The other Russian stood on the lookout. With timing Finnegan let the toilet start to fall from about four stories high as he leaped, legs flailing. Connor shielded his head as the toilet fell apart during the drop, slamming into the Russian’s head dazing him.

Finnegan landed on the other Russian knocking him to the ground as his brother stood, grabbing the top of the toilet and beating his captor’s head with it repeatedly.

Connor went over to his twin, patting his cheek though he had fallen unconscious. Cursing to himself, he quickly took the one Russian’s gun and ransacked the rest of his weapons. Finding a random bag he threw the weapons in it. Connor ransacked the other Russian of his weapons and grabbed the bag, running back to an unconscious Finnegan.

With effort, Connor heaved the older twin over his shoulder, grabbed the bag and took off back to their apartment though being careful not to drop Finnegan.