Seeing Red

[Unbreakable Justice]

The day dragged painfully on for the leader of the gang, but the fight didn't dull the ferocity of the leader's blue eyes. They glared over a room full of rich associates who all looked both angry and frightened to see him. Everyone who was angry at him didn't recognize him and those who were terrified were rightfully so. Conner, the "Red Maverick", wasn't infamous for selling overpriced baked goods. Luckily for the business men, they weren't on his plate at the moment. His hands were already bloody and raw from a snitch who had been selling them out to the FBI. Now that it was handled, he was in no better mood. His body ached, his stomach growled, and his mouth was parched - overall, in desperate need of a few shots of whiskey and a smoke.

His long gait took him to the back of the shop as he ducked under a spray of sparks that fell on his wool trench coat and flat cap. He continued all the way to the back until he reached a trapdoor that had been covered by a toolbox. Carelessly he nudged it aside with his boot and lifted the trapdoor to slip under the door and descend down a short flight of stairs.

Oil and gasoline was no longer an occurring scent once the door was shut. Now it smelled of alcohol, freshly delivered bread, and cigarette smoke - if it wasn't so muggy it would be heaven. What poor qualities that came from the mugginess was made up for in the lack of people that came to bother the bar as the place had been made only available to those who the Reds invited. Right now though, the select people who were there were too many. All Conner wanted was to be alone.

"John, bottle of whiskey and a glass, please," he ordered as he walked up to the bar. The men took note of him as he came in, but the short hush was quickly soothed over by a joke between the older men of the Reds. Conner gave them a passing salute then took his place in the back of the room where no one ever sat and got started on finishing his bottle.  

[xxangelsofchaosxx]

Unbreakable Justice

There were very few things Rosaline Cassidy was unaccustomed to, the nervous rattling in her chest certainly one of them. As she weaved through the tables, picking up tabs and serving drinks, the woman listened to the stories the men told.
For over a week now she had been working under the name Grace as a barmaid for one of the Reds' speakeasies. This wasn't her traditional line of work. No, what she did was far less tame and in comparision to some of these stories, much more bloody. When the feds came to her, they demanded names in exchange for her family, namely her uncle Barnabas Cassidy. Names that wouldn't have done them any good, in all honesty because by the time they had reached her though, everyone was gone. It seemed like the second her uncle was thrown in cuffs all three of his sons fell off the face of the earth and all of his men ran like the rats they were, finding safety in other gangs while she stayed and did some digging.
Her Uncle Barnabas was a very popular man in most circles, but not in the best way and by no means did she think he was a perfect man, but he took her in and raised her, gave her purpose in life, gave her a family and home. He might have not been a good man, but he was her family and she was going to bargain her soul if she had to to get him back.
It seemed the feds knew this though, and all things considered, such as the fact that she wasn't arrested on the spot, they either didn't know what her role in the Cassidy family was, or they truly thought for a second that they could outgun her in her own home. She asked them if they were looking for speakeasies, willing to give names at the drop of a hat when they said they'd free her uncle under certain conditions. But that cat had long since been let out of the bag apparently. No, they wanted her to give them an even bigger fish.
They wanted the Reds.
And since then, she had posed as a the fiery barmaid under John's employ with no one the wiser with hopes of learning all she could about this man who lead them. They must have figured she would do well at this job because everyone knew if there were two things men loved it was bars and pretty women, mix the two and you have a woman with plenty of secrets. Of course, in her time there, she hadn't once seen this legendary leader of theirs until now. And it was then when the gravity of the situation finally caught up with her. One wrong move and a whole room of Reds would turn her into a smear on the wall.
Grace watched him from the corner of her eye, darting between him and the men she was currently serving when John and Conner seemed to exchange words, leading John to look to her and motion that Conner's table was her next priority. Inhaling deeply, she approached his table with a well painted smile.
"Evenin' lads. What would you like?"  

[Unbreakable Justice]

Conner had only just lit his smoke when a redheaded woman came to stand before him. His eyes looked up her attractive frame to her rest upon her eyes eventually and the smile that came from a long time of practice in pretending. Still, he didn't call her out on it nor did he try to reciprocate it. Instead he just gestured back at the bar where John was, "Bottle of whiskey and a glass. Leave the bottle."

He took a drag of his cigarette as he eyed her again but more critically with the purpose of identifying a spy in mind, not enjoying her body as others did. He had not the best luck with women and having one in his private pub made it even harder to accept her there. The last time he allowed one in, she was the cause of his place to burn to the ground and took one of his Reds with her. Just thinking about it made his ring finger burn. Yet, he kept quiet about it and did his best to keep an open mind while she was present. When everyone left for the night, he was going to be having a word with John for the bartender had been there for the first pub's failure.  

[xxangelsofchaosxx]

Unbreakable Justice

Grace exhaled, truly feeling herself breathe as he quickly dismissed her. She had heard all kinds of stories about the infamous leader of the reds from both his men and her Uncle's. They said he was young but hardened and ruthless ever since the war. She wondered to herself what a boy from a rich family would want to serve in the military for as she met John's slightly panicked expression. Raising her brow with a slight smile, John's look didn't ease in the slightest.

"I knew this was a bad idea." he muttered to himself.

"What was?" she asked looking over the shelf of liquor for a whiskey with a good year, or at least one that was full. From the look of his knuckles, she was half tempted to leave him a bottle and a half with a towel to douse it on.

John quickly and quietly worked behind the bar, cleaning glasses and setting them aside with a heaving breath that at first went unnoticed. Rolling her eyes softly, Grace selected a bottle and turned towards him, plucking the freshly cleaned glass from his hands as she smiled and said in a low voice with her warm Irish accent, "Look John. You see this room? Booming with business, isn't it? You said it yourself that this week has been nothin but bustlin' since I came here. Boss boy over there might not like we women folk, but I can see he likes money." she looked over her shoulder with a slight smirk back to Conner before she nudged John's shoulder, "You let them ledgers do the talkin for ye. Numbers don't lie and I'm certain men like him prefer their stories over ours, am I wrong?"

When John's mouth pressed into a straight line Grace took a few more glasses onto her tray for the table she'd serve after him and quietly made her way back to Conner's seat. Resting her tray on the peak of her hip, she placed the whiskey on the shining tabletop and a glass next to it before her eyes rose to meet his sapphire hues, holding the glance for a few solid seconds before she motioned to his hands with a soft, tone that otherwise wouldn't in any circumstance be complimented with a smile. "Let me know when you want something for your hand." She said before taking off for the next table, switching back to her cheerful state.  

[Unbreakable Justice]

Conner sat quietly at his place as he looked down at his hand with a smoke held between his lips. he ran his fingers over the raw tissue that had been torn open from how hard he struck and little regard he had for his physical state. It was a little distracting from the woman in his pub so he focused on it as his thumb ran over the open wounds to smear blood across old scars.

When the drink was placed before him, he flinched a little as he had zoned out. Conner's attention had returned upon looking up at Grace and poured a glass of it quietly before looking back up at her for the statement about his hand. His eyes narrowed a bit before sitting back as he pulled his smoke out of his mouth to drink instead. "Bother someone else," he muttered under his breath before he stood to retrieve a clean towel from behind the bar himself. When he got back, he dipped it into the glass he poured and wiped his lip with it for the busted spot before draping a wiskey wet towel over his left hand - his worst one. His face scrunched up for a moment before a heavy gasp came out. With it he filled a shot of whiskey.

He sat quietly for a few more minutes just drinking, but after a while, he decided to figure out a few answers. "Bar maid, over here," he called her before she came before him. "Please sit, I have a few questions for you. I want to know why you're here and where you are from. Clearly you aren't from my district and I told John not to hire anyone outside of it so I'd like to know what makes you so valuable that he'd break my rules for."  

[xxangelsofchaosxx]

Unbreakable Justice

Rosaline smirked brushing off Conner's sour attitude before returning to bobbing and weaving through the chattering tables. Considering she wasn't full of bulletholes just yet, she felt safe to assume he had no idea who she was. Not that this was any surprise actually. Her job in the Cassidy family was to tie up loose ends, burn bridges and to bury anyone Barnabas pointed out. So it sort of goes without saying it was a rare occasion anyone made it out of a gun fight with her and the other black-coats like her. They weren't gurnts, they were Barnabas' personal hellhounds.

Breaking from her thoughts, she nodded to a table while passing by, men gratefully cheered in good spirits. This was probably the easiest work she had ever done. Well, that and the time she babysat the Latino leader's son when those dirty Chicago bastards tried to put a hit on him. Sure she had to shoot a guy in the face, but to know that kid was safe and sound was almost more rewarding than any paycheck. She wouldn't say out loud, or even really admit it to herself, but she loved kids. Not a lot of people would really guess that much by looking at her due to her resting b***h face syndrome, but her preference between them and some of the scum she interacted with daily leaned heavily to the side of the little ones.

Collecting a tray of glasses from an empty table, Rosaline picked up the tab and was quietly making her way back to the back room when Conner called her back over to his table. She inhaled, raising a slightly confused eyebrow when she remembered his request to piss off not more than a moment ago. Her painted red lips pressed into a crooked line across her face as he now requested that she'd sit down and explain how she came into this service. Now it really went without saying that Rose wasn't very well practiced in conversation since most of her clientele were cadavers or cadavers-to be. But up to this point, Rosaline had practiced Grace's story over and over in her mind until it was practically printed on her tongue. Setting her tray down, 'Grace' sat at the table with her hands smoothing over her long dark brown skirt and apron before looking up to him with a small shrug. "I would guess it was because ol' man John needed an extra pair of hands." she answered with relaxed Irish drawl, not actually meaning to sound as witty as that might have been. "I'm from the factory district over in Winthrop. My da was a farmer and I worked with him from the time I was small until they realized I was a girl, so then I had to choose between retail, the factories, and cleaning. Well, no retail was hiring and the factories don't pay enough, so I cleaned for an ol-timer who ran a pub before the ban. He taught me to mix drinks and keep ledger." Her eyes fell over his expression, almost entirely uncertain if he bought it at all. Her hand swept a lock of hair behind her neck, now sort of understanding why a grown man like John would be intimidated by someone almost a third his age. She reminded herself though that he hadn't shot her yet, so it must be sounding good. Her smile immediately returned before she waved to the rest of the room and looked back to Conner. "Besides, this place seemed to be missing a little something, maybe a woman's touch? And if raking in customers doesn't make me valuable...well, I don't know what to tell ya, Boss."  

[Unbreakable Justice]

Conner had gone from slowing himself down by pouring glasses to taking sips straight out of the bottle as the waitress told her story. It was one that he believed for it was reasonable, it was simple, and a lot of times the downfall of liars was making up a story that had too many moving parts or too rare of an occurrence to have ended up in his lap. For her though, it made perfect sense for her to be there. None of it was far fetched or wild. She was just a girl looking for a job. He almost simply dismissed her until he heard her comment about needing a woman's touch. That put him on edge a little and it showed in the way he shifted to hold the bottle around the base a little tighter. He held back an infamous temper though and just licked the inside of his cheek as he forced himself to slow down.

"Last time I had a woman's touch I had a bullet shoulder and my pub burned to the ground," he warned her as he lazily looked at the bottle's label. When his eyes met hers again, the predatorial look returned as he just stared her down. "I find you are doing anything suspicious or threatening to my men or my place, trust I will not be as bad as a shot as my ex-wife.

"Now, anything else you want to add to me about yourself? Like maybe a name to carve on a tombstone when you ********>"  

[xxangelsofchaosxx]

Unbreakable Justice

Rosaline noted the immediate shift in his demeanor, watching as his bloody knuckles paled a bright white around the bottle before he issued his warming. The woman sat at the table, blinking repeatedly as she processed the threat into a part of her mind that strongly urged her not to retort the way that Rosaline Cassidy would. Her lips twitched into a soft smile as she shook her head to the Red almost laughing softly. "Love is a b***h like that, yah? Went around with a boy who taught me to shoot, shot me twice in the back when I left 'im." she answered lowering her smile down to her lap.

Though she might have seemed like she was reflecting on the memory with her hands folded over one another on the table top, Rosaline was actually mulling over the little information that he had given to her in that bit. He was married once--though she was unsure if the wife was still alive based on that context, which more or less confirmed his distrust of women.

"Ah. Anyway, I don't plan any trouble, I'm just lookin for a job that pays so I can leave this city."

There was a sudden cheer coming from the far back table, apparently there was a strong arm contest going on now, which she now used as her excuse to get back to her work. She stood up, taking the tray with both her hands. "My name is Grace O'Hara." she said with a less serious smile. "In case I '******** up'."  

[Unbreakable Justice]

The gang leader said nothing as she stood up and left, her demeanor turning friendly once more. As he leaned back, he kept the sour look but dared to let a bit of a smile creep up onto his face before taking another swig. "Grace O'Hara, huh? Boyo, you are as stupid as you thought you were for feeling like this about her. I know she's daring but don't be stupid. So was your last Mrs. Red. Dont' be getting stupid," he told himself befor standing to walk over to the bar where John looked at him anxiously. He poured himself a glass this time and handed one to the older man then poured his again so sip out of this time. "Show me the ledger, John. I want to see what damages your little redheaded filly is causing."

Without argument or question, he handed the leather bound book to him. He untied the straps and flipped it open flat before flipping through from where it was marked that a new employee had been hired. On the side he had put notes on why he hired her and Conner fect himself smirking at the fact that John thought her "gorgeous body" was going to help bring in more customers. He ignored that for a moment though and went over the actual buisness part, reading where he wrote for the money totals for each night - some of them obviously written in a different hand. Still, they were a lot higher than they use to be. The reasoning had to be the men staying longer since his place was very exclusive as to who could and couldn't attend. Like it or not, Conner could tell she was going to help his more legitament buisnesses.

"Good news John, you'll be living as my buisness man a little bit longer! Even if I hate it, she's clearly helping to bring in some cash so I can't disown you for that," he told him as he leaned across the bar to pat him on the shoulder. Turning though he stood up on the wooden floor and let out an ear piercing whistle. "Reds! Get your fill of liquor tonight for tomorrow is going to be a dry day." Conner grinned in hearing all the boos coming from older and younger Reds alike. It never was a good, easy day when he was banning drinking so it was in two ways despised. Never the less, he continued.

"Tomorrow we'll be overlooking some buisness for our kin, the Black Orchids, as they have requested our help in securing some more drinks for themselves and in turn have offered us our own crates. So, if you make it back tomorrow night, there'll be plenty of time to wet our whistles and play with some gals when we get back!" At this the whole bar errupted with cheering between yelling and heavy mugs being pounded against the hard wood tables. Conner smiled and gave a little salute before taking one last swig of his drink and headed out for the night. The rest of the boys might be into playing all night, but he needed to try and get some sleep - even if that chance was unlikely.  

[xxangelsofchaosxx]

Rosaline tried her hardest to keep from smiling like a fool. Somehow, by luck or grace, he actually bought it and by the end of the night John could leave with a smile on his face as well. Probably due to the fact he wasn't going to be closing the club by himself anymore...or that he wasn't cleaning up blood. She could tell long before he told her about shooting his wife that Conner had absolutely no qualms about shooting a woman. In some weird way, she could respect that. Not in a way that suggest she admires what he does, no. Hell, even she had a hard time killing women at first. No matter how many times she'd laid people out, it was always something about killing women that struck a cord in her. For everyone it was different while for her, she saw someone's mother or sister. It was almost like she was killing a little part of humanity in that way. At least, until she remembers that she'd just been shot herself or that the damn ragamuffin stole her cousin's money.

Who was she to say that she didn't deserve the same fate though? Honestly, something in the back of Rosaline's mind prepared her for being caught. It wasn't like she had everything to lose. It was just her life. Everything she did, was to serve the Cassidy family, this was her duty as Barnabas' niece. As far as her life was concerned, she had long since given it to be utilized in any way her uncle saw fit. And so it went without saying that the only reason she put as much effort into not getting smeared all over the wall as she did, was to see her uncle a free man once again.

Rosaline went home that night shortly after John had locked up the ledger. She pressed her lips together with discontent, knowing just how badly she needed to get into their trading ledger. The feds made it abundantly clear that what they wanted to know was who they were getting their booze from. Once they knew that, they would find out where they were getting their ingredients from. Rose didn't really think of it much beyond them hunting down the root of these moonshiners and whiskey bandits. No skin off her bones as long as they kept their end of the bargain.

Of course, this was also to imply that Rosaline wasn't a fool either. Approaching a emerald green door to her apartment, lined up with a series of locks, Rosaline took out her bundle of keys and carefully and quietly unlocked her door. It was a trick she learned while running a job for the Chinese. On her door were 5 deadbolts. Whereas someone would guess that she locked every single one, it was in fact, every other deadbolt she sealed when she was away and with as many burglars they had running around this neighborhood, it wasn't actually all that uncommon for everyone to have more than one kind of lock on their door. She of course, wasn't worried about someone pilfering her stuff. Anything of any importance was hidden under a tile in her bathroom. Emergency cash, jewelry, a jade dragon, and most importantly, her little black book.

For as long as she could remember, Rosaline has documented every bit of information she attained regarding certain gangs her family affiliated with. Her uncle Barnabas often reminded her that no one ever expects a woman to be observant, and because of that this made her useful. So with that, Rosaline journaled every mission with a written shorthand she could read back to him. Not that she didn't trust her uncle, but it was sensitive information that she couldn't risk anyone else knowing especially now with the Reds. If the feds were going to screw her over, there was a million dollars worth of intel in her journals that even the best snitch would foam at the mouth for.

The short hand in the last section tabbed off as 'REDS' started off with what she knew before she started and as she went on, added onto that information with a series of citations found at the bottom of each page. When she was satisfied with what she had written, she hid the journal away and got ready for tomorrow. She had yet to see what a dry day was like for them.  

[Unbreakable Justice]

Bright and early Conner rose from his bed and dressed himself well with his wool trench coat pulled over his shoulders for the pending winter months. His flat cap was pulled over his black hair firmly and he tucked the blades within it's lip inside it again so not to cut his scalp as he wore it. After pulling on his black tanker boots from the war, he headed outside into the cold morning air to buy a bit of breakfast from the bakery on the way to their meeting place. Usually they started their days within his pub, but as he wanted to keep them from drinking, they met in the middle of the city.

"Good morning, chaps!" he shouted at the group of men as he stood on the lip of the well in the center. In response he got a few tired grumbles and even less alert eyes on him. No one was happy to be out of bed this early after having clearly spent a night of drinking and women to get their fill on what they would have to wait for that night. "As soon as we have our kin here, we'll be heading to the docks to ensure that we acquire the liquor on some incoming ships before the greedy coppers do. If we do this right, we'll be rich, we'll be famous, and we'll be drunk!" Finally this earned cheers that threatened to wake the rest of the neighborhood up.

Upon seeing the Black Orchids it had died down.

The Black Orchids was another gang in the district of the Reds, one that had struck up a peace treaty with them at the start of the war and had only solidified at the end. So many of both gangs had been lost due to the battles that the need to lean on each other was hardened along with the fact that Conner had little worries about working with Japanese unlike many people in the States now a days. As an immigrant himself, he vowed to never turn his back on someone who needed help, no what soil they grew from.

"Don!" Conner shouted as he climbed down from his perch to great the leading man of the other gang with open arms. Both of them exchanged a few words in private under the German language before they both smiled. "Let's get stomping boyos!"

Though gangs had become smaller due to the war, the Reds and Orchids merged together looked like a lethal battle force as they marched the mile to the docks. Among each other, everyone chatted and joked while both Conner and Don kept silent in front. Once the docks were in view though, a single gesture from Don silenced the entire crowd before everyone fanned out without another word. Everyone had gone over this strategy a million times, each had members who had scoped out the docks, and everyone knew how to take this place down. Though this required the help from two gangs, the large numbers made it relatively easy to accomplish - so much so that Conner never drew his pistol.

The siege happened just at dawn with nearly no gunfire to be heard as the ship was subdued with minimal effort. Conner, after going after the helm of the ship, got the worst of it as he broke into several fist fights with several hits landing, but thankfully not a single bullet did. All he would be walking away with were bruises and cuts to remind him of a job well done.

However, as the boys were leaving the ship and loading up the trucks to take to the pub and back to the Orchid's place, a large cop stopped the group as he came out from behind the walls and put a gun to the back of Conner's head. "Put your hands behind your head and lock them... Slowly."

"I think you've got the wrong man, mate," Conner chuckled nervously as he stepped back and put his hands behind his head as recommended. Just as suddenly as the cop appeared, the Red leader jumped into action and spun around to smack the gun away form his head and knock the officer back into the wall. "Get the liquor out of here!" The officer threw his massive fist into the Irishman's face, starting a nosebleed before Conner tackled into him. The two went at it until the cars left and headed to the pub; it ended with the gang leader in handcuffs with his bloody face to the brick road.

"Captain is going to pay me quite well for catching your sorry a**."

"Isn't it dangerous to use one's entire vocabulary in a single sentence?" That earned him another shot in the stomach and him getting dragged through the streets by his hands which remained pinned to his back.

An hour after the boys returned to the pub to stock it full of alcohol, Conner came stumbling down the steps with the same officer holding him by his arm and no longer in uniform. Everyone flinched at him at first, but the cop bowed at the bottom of the stairs and uncuffed Conner. "Boys, I'd like you to meet an old friend of mine, Jack," he said, introducing the man before almost falling over in trying to sit down.

"Probably could have gone a little easier on the trick," one of the older Reds noted as Jack helped him to sit down at a table.

"But would you have believed me if I only pretended?" he asked before silently thanking John for bringing him an already blood stained towel to help stop his bleeding nose which had soaked the front of his shirt. "Well, drink up boyos!"

Reds cheered again and the frolic started all over in the late afternoon as everyone eagerly took drinks and John helped to dish out the fresh loaves Conner had delievered that morning while he was at the bakery. Overall it had been a rather successful day, but he hadn't expected to have gotten so beaten up in the process. Sure he knew he was taking hits, but he didn't think his face would have ended up so swollen.

"Sorry again about the face, man."

Conner waved him off. "No, it's fine. Get yourself some food and drink."  

[xxangelsofchaosxx]

Unbreakable Justice

Rosaline shifted in her seat as her arms folded over one another across her chest. Nicola noted how despondent she was over the current state of events, but didn't have much leeway to assure her their end of the bargain would be upheld. He lit another cigarette as the redhead followed his movements with sharp and intensely burning eyes. Rosaline tried not to make it too obvious that she was biting her tongue, but after almost a month of walking on eggshells in enemy territory she was very understandably pissed.

"So you're telling me I can't even see him?" she started in a harsh tone. "How am I supposed to trust you blokes if you can't give me anything to work with?"

"Is this a lecture on trust coming from you? Seriously?" he answered with a scoff that abruptly broke into a full laughter. Flicking the ashes from his smoke the man stood up from his seat and straightened his suit, the fabric perfectly cut over his triangular frame. He drew in another puff and let it go in seconds before his eyes fell up and down her face again. Rosaline held her glance on him, making it abundantly clear that she wasn't looking to play games with the feds at this point. Marco Nicola shook his head with his hand rubbing the back of his neck when he was able to finally pull away from her seething eyes. "How did you get involved with all of these bastards to start with? A little lamb like you should be dancing or singing, not playing cops and robbers with grown men."

Rosaline's eyes never left him. She studied him, noting his hand was nervously close to his gun. His clubbed fingers grazed the metal, making the girl feel uneasy. Her jaw tightened as a huff of air fell through her nostrils. "I've already told you all there is to it. I'm a Cassidy. Family is everything."

"Are you the only family he has?" he asked tilting his head slowly.

"No. He has his sons, his wife and--"

"Well you see, I only ask because..." he put the cigarette out in the crystal ash tray between them. "When the going got tough, there suddenly wasn't a soul who knew his name. Just you. And even then? He didn't mention you once when I interrogated him. Once he was put in the spotlight the rest scattered like roaches and now it's all on you to clean up decades of his ******** ups. The niece he didn't seem to give two shits about. If you ask me, that doesn't sound very fair."

Rosaline kicked back her seat as she whipped up to a stance, her hands slammed on the table top now face to face with the man with a deep frown etched across her face.

Marco's heartbeat was visible along his thick neck. Her abrupt movement was jolting to say the least, affirming that letting his guard down would mean she could have him on his back before he'd ever get the chance to pull the trigger. She locked eyes with him, the intense burning hues of green shielded more than just anger. Something in what he said triggered a pain in the back of her mind that she would have had no problem projecting on him at any given time.

Standing still for a moment, Rosaline's pursed lips formed into a strict, straight line. "I guess it's a good thing nobody ******** asked you then."

Throwing her jacket over her shoulders, the woman turned on her heels and left without another word. Marco looked to his men waiting outside for the signal to start trailing her. Just as a precaution. A woman with that much knowledge would be useful to them if she played for just their team. As much as he would love to give her what she wanted, he knew that putting her in the same room as Barnabas was unadvised by his higher ups. He figured that they thought so long as they held that over her head, the easier she was to manipulate. After that display though, he had his doubts.


Rosaline was getting sick of their little games real fast. Every time she met up with one of the feds they'd send her on a wild goose chase with some bumbling shmucks following her around town until she could shake them. Obviously they didn't trust her and by now, she had half a mind to tell her just who the hell they were dealing with, but she knew that acting out wouldn't help her uncle in the slightest. This was going to require a lot more patience than what she was born with.


She circled the town until she was sure that she wasn't being tailed anymore before heading to the pub. Eventually they gave up this little game, they had to. They knew that she knew they were following her. It only begged the question to Rosaline as to why they would continue to do it anyways. She thought on this as she entered the pub early enough in the afternoon to start opening. It was unusually quiet here today though. This was around the time that she remembered all the Reds had gone out to handle some business with the Black Orchids, but John wasn't there either.

Rosaline looked around, hanging up her coat in the back room as she called for John in a soft tone. Nowhere to be seen. Her eyes fell on the series of ledgers sitting on the desk under the lamp. She had seen the pub ledger, sure, but not the trade ledger. That was only trusted to John and Conner, containing all of their trades for moonshine ingredients, where they got their weapons, cars. It was just out in the open.

Was this the chance she had been waiting for?

Rosaline stood in silence, contemplating the opportunity given to her from the fates. She might not get another chance like this, ever. So what was stopping her?

"You're here early." John said with a small smile. Rosaline's eyes whipped to meet his glance as she returned half the smile, now stepping into this other persona she had built.

"Just thought You'd need a hand getting ready for when the boys show up." Grace answered sweetly. "Heaven knows just a successful meeting gets them all rallied up. I can't imagine what they're like when they secure a shipment."


She cursed to herself, still forcing a smile.

The night seemed be busier than anything she'd seen since she got there. John was thanking god up and down that their own shipment had just come in, even more so that Rosaline came in early to set up or else he wouldn't have been able to set up the tap in time. Rosaline was far too distracted by her own thoughts to really indulge in the boy's stories. She listened, or at least pretended to, but her thoughts always dragged her back to what Nicola had said earlier that day. As much as she told herself that he was wrong, there was something ringing in her chest at the thought of Barnabas not really caring about her. Sure he was a little strict with her, but it was better than what her life would have been without him.

She looked around as the Reds cheered for their leader's triumphant return. Men raising their glasses to Conner and a tall man escorting him. Rosaline thought about this for a moment, how happy some of them were to see him. Conner didn't seem to have any significant family, just these men who followed him blindly--gladly-- into whatever the night brought them. It was loyalty she'd never seen before. What made him so different?

She approached his table, faking a slight smirk as she placed his preferred whiskey and two glasses on the table. He looked like hell. "Usually when a man goes looking for a fight, he doesn't look half as proud as you do. What wouldn't I pay to see the other guy." she said with a teasing sing song tone.  

[Unbreakable Justice]

While everyone cheered around him, Conner sat in a quiet lull. He was quite exhausted from the events of the day mostly, but he also was quite worried. Rarely such things went smoothly as they had without something ominous waiting in the background for a chance to tear them apart. It was that line of thinking that he had developed in the war as a survival strategy and it had worked out for him in the battles and out of them. Staying on his toes is what kept him alive.

Unfortunately thinking like this was also a big enough distraction that he flinched when Grace put down the liquor before him. He sighed and put the bloody cloth back against his nose and shook his head at her statement. "Most the guys I fought are back at the docks still and Jack doesn't look too bad, he's just got a few cuts," Conner noted before putting down the towel to pour himself a drink as the bleeding had mostly stopped. "It could have ended a lot worse if someone else had come to find me. I was lucky that Jack was on patrol, not Marco. He would have beaten me within an inch of my life."

Even Jack's expression soured at the mentioning of the officer in charge of him. He gave a slight shiver and poured himself a drink from Conner's bottle. "That man has had a craving for his blood since he got back from the war. I can't begin to explain why it's so extreme, but it is and none of us will survive out here with such a madman on our tail. If he finds out that I'm a Red, death will be the least of my concerns."

The man shrugged and Conner frowned. "For now though, I just hope he stays out of my pub and I'll be the one to put my gun up to the back of his head," he growled before downing the drink and reaching for more. Before pouring himself another glass though, he soaked the towel in it and started cleaning up his wounds with one hand, grumbling but staying relatively quiet. "Until that day happens though, we shall be drinking in peace and enjoying some food in our bellies after a hard day at work. That's all I can ask for."  

[xxangelsofchaosxx]

Rosaline flicked her eyes to Jack and back to Connor, slowly piecing together what information they had just given her. He was a Red posing as a cop? She did her best to not let her mouth chip into an etched smile as her thoughts scattered across the surface of her mind. What did she do with this information? If she exposed a Red in the force, that would get Marco off her back--even more so, it had to be enough to free her Uncle Barnabas. It just had to.

The woman gently bit her painted red lips as she shifted on her feet, placing the tray on the curve of her lip. Jack looked like a good fellow and while she did hate to think about what would happen to him--or really anyone in that man's hands for that matter--she owed no loyalties to these men. They sure as hell weren't her family, and as far as she could tell, not much of friends. In fact, she was pretty sure Conner on some level hated her guts. Her eyes darted up and down the younger man's face, noting his distinguished features before shrugging off any other thoughts. It was just business. Simple as that.

Grace smiled softly before nodding towards the men. "You boys just let me know if you need anything. And if you want to use something cheap instead, you know what to do." she added with a slight sigh.  

[Unbreakable Justice]

Conner raised an eyebrow at her over her subtly suggesting that he uses a cheaper liquor verses the nice Irish whiskey that he was currently dabbing his bleeding knuckles with. He leaned back and gave her a slight dirty look for the statement and kept working on his hand before taking a swig from the bottle. "Fine, give me something cheep and strong. I guess using imported liquor on flesh wounds is a bit extreme," he nodded before letting a loud yawn out.

"You getting sleepy on me?" Jack teased before pouring himself a glass out of the whiskey. "Or are you just getting too old to keep up with all your fiasco? If you need a cane, I can go buy you one."

A left hook was brought across the officer's face for the remark, breaking back open the forming scabs to start the bleeding all over again. Conner hissed and pulled his hand back to put the towel over it again before shooting another glare. "I'm gonna knock you flat on your a** and your teeth out... I'm twenty two, I'm not even close to old," he sighed as he practically restarted cleaning out his hands. "This might need stitches..."

"It will be if you keep hitting the wall with them... How about you knock that corset loose on the redhead instead?" he suggested nodding towards Grace as he took another drink.

"I am not interested in woman. Casca ruined that for me."

Jack shrugged. "Well unless you're deciding to never have sex again or be gay, I suggest you get over that b***h and focus on someone a little more your speed."

"And you think a barmaid is my speed," Conner grumbled before putting his feet up on the table.

This time his friend leaned in a little closer as he poured them both another drink. "You and I both know she's not just a barmaid."