Page 15

THIRTEEN

emmanuel

Walking into the kitchen, I spot Jer sitting at the counter hunched over the laptop Lawrence had last night.

"Any luck?" I ask, pouring myself a cup of coffee.

Jer looks up, dark circles under his eyes suggesting he hasn't slept either. "Some. The encryption is tough, but we're making progress. Looks like Lawrence was in contact with a group called the Boston Elite Syndicate."

I frown, the name unfamiliar. "Never heard of them."

"That's because they're American," Jer explains. "Five families that run Boston. The families have been working together since the sixties, if not longer."

I take a seat across from him, my mind racing. "So they turned Lawrence? Offered him protection in exchange for what exactly?"

Jer nods grimly. "Seems that way. From what I’ve found in their communications, they want power.

They want to take over every criminal organization.

But there's more." He turns the laptop toward me, showing me an email chain.

"Looks like Lawrence wasn't their only target.

They've been reaching out to members of other organizations too. "

My blood runs cold. "Which organizations?"

Jer's jaw tightens. "We're still working on decrypting the full list. But one name keeps coming up." He pauses, meeting my eyes. "Henry Gallagher."

Christ, that’s fucking huge. They want to take over the biggest crime family in the world. The Gallaghers are fucking menaces, and they wouldn’t hesitate to take anyone out who comes after them. Doing so is suicide.

I lean back in my chair, processing this bombshell. The Gallagher family is legendary in our world—ruthless, powerful, and notoriously difficult to infiltrate. If the Boston Elite Syndicate is going after them, they're either incredibly ambitious or incredibly stupid. Possibly both.

"Jesus," I mutter, running a hand through my hair. "They're playing with fire."

Jer nods grimly. "Exactly. And if they succeed in turning even one Gallagher insider, it could spark an all-out war."

The implications are staggering. A war between crime families of this scale would be catastrophic, not just for those involved, but for countless innocent civilians caught in the crossfire.

"So what's our next move?" I ask, already knowing I won't like the answer.

Jer's eyes meet mine, his expression grave. "We need to warn the Gallaghers."

"And I suppose you want me to deliver this message?" I say, my voice laced with sarcasm.

Jer's lips twist into a humorless smile.

"Not just you, Emmanuel. Maverick, Stephen, and I will be meeting with Henry. And after taking out Lawrence, we need to make sure this goes smoothly. Plus, having Henry Gallagher on our side means we’ll be able to find out who within the syndicate is behind this. "

I sigh, knowing there's no way out of this. "Fine. When do we leave?"

"Today," Jer says, sliding a file across the table to me. "Everything we know about the Boston Elite Syndicate is in here,” he tells me, pointing to the file. “Study it on the flight. We're heading to Dublin."

I raise an eyebrow. "Not long to study it," I quip. “But fuck, at least we’ll be home.”

"There’s that," Jer confirms. "Henry is expecting us at four."

I nod, flipping through the file. There are a lot of details about the Boston Elite Syndicate.

The Italians—the Mariano Famiglia, run by Cesare Mariano.

Then there’s the Delaney Clann—the Irish Mafia, run by Ronan Delaney.

The Bratva is next, the Morozov Bratva, run by Olezeka Morozov.

The East Street Kings aren't a crime family in the normal sense of the word; there are four men who are more dangerous than meets the eye.

The fifth family is the Harrington Mob, run by William ‘Mad Bill’ Harrington.

“There’s a lot of manpower with these families. Do we know if they’re all in on this?”

Jer's expression darkens. "If they are then we're all in trouble. But I know that going against us and the Gallaghers is a certain death. We’ll not take it lying down."

“Whatever you need, whatever it takes,” I tell him. The Houlihan Gang isn’t just some gang; it’s my family, and Jer is the man I respect above all else. He was there for me when I hit my lowest point and helped me forge the life I was destined to have. Without him, who knows where I’d be.

As I stand to leave, Jer calls out one last thing. "Oh, and Emmanuel? Be careful. The Gallaghers... they play by their own rules. Don't underestimate them."

I give him a grim nod before heading back to the bedroom. I need to get things ready for this afternoon.

I spend the next few hours poring over the file on the Boston Elite Syndicate, trying to commit every detail to memory. The more I read, the more uneasy I feel. These aren't just run-of-the-mill criminals—they're organized, ruthless, and incredibly well-connected.

By the time we board the private jet to Dublin, my head is swimming with names, dates, and potential motives. Maverick slides into the seat next to me, looking just as grim as I feel.

"Are you ready for this?" he asks quietly as the plane takes off.

I shrug. "As ready as I can be. You?"

He lets out a humorless chuckle. "Meeting with Henry Gallagher? Yeah, I'm fucking thrilled."

The flight is tense, with Jer going over our strategy one last time. We're to present the information we've gathered, warn the Gallaghers about the potential threat, and offer our assistance in dealing with it. Simple in theory, but I have a feeling the reality will be far more complicated.

We land at a private airstrip just outside of the city. A sleek black car is waiting for us, driven by Jason, Jer’s go-to car thief. Jason gives us all a nod but doesn't say a word as we climb in.

The drive is quiet and filled with heavy silence. Everyone is focused on the meeting ahead of us. Finally, we pull up outside a restaurant in the heart of the city. This is the restaurant the Gallaghers own.

Standing outside waiting is Stephen, his dark eyes watching everyone.

He doesn’t miss a thing; he takes in everything.

That’s why he’s the best at what he does.

He’s the Eraser. He uses a woodchipper to get rid of his enemies and makes sure there’s nothing left of their bodies to be identified.

He’s one of Jer’s most trusted men. He’s been by his side for years now, slowly working his way up the ranks alongside his best friend, Freddie Kinnock, A.K.A the Thief.

As we step out of the car, I can't shake the feeling we're walking into the lion's den. Jer leads the way, his face a mask of calm determination. Maverick and I follow, with Stephen bringing up the rear.

Inside, we're led to a table where an old man in a sharp suit is sitting with a wide smile and holding a glass of whiskey.

He's older than I expected. His hair is completely gray but his eyes are sharp and calculating as they sweep over our group. This is a man who has seen and done things that would give most people nightmares.

"Jerry," he says, his voice a low rumble. "It's been a while."

Jer nods respectfully. "Thank you for seeing us on such short notice, Henry."

Gallagher's gaze shifts to me, Stephen, and Maverick. "And these must be your young protégés. The Silencer, the Eraser, and the Cleaner, if I'm not mistaken."

I feel a chill run down my spine. The fact that he knows our code names is unsettling, to say the least.

"You've done your homework," Jer says without missing a beat. “We’ve a problem, Henry.”

He waves his hand for us to take a seat. “Would you like a drink? Anything to eat?”

As we take our seats, I can feel Henry Gallagher's eyes on me, assessing. I meet his gaze steadily, refusing to show any sign of intimidation.

"No, thank you," Jer replies to Henry's offer of drinks. "We're here on urgent business."

Henry leans back in his chair, swirling the whiskey in his glass. "So I gathered. What's this problem you've brought to my doorstep, Jerry?"

Jer launches into an explanation of what we've discovered—the Boston Elite Syndicate's attempts to infiltrate various criminal organizations, including the Gallaghers.

As he speaks, I watch Henry's face carefully, looking for any reaction.

But the old man's expression remains impassive, giving nothing away.

When Jer finishes, Henry is silent for a long moment, his eyes distant as he processes the information. Finally, he speaks.

"And you're certain of this information?" he asks, his voice low and dangerous.

Jer nods grimly. "We lost one of our own over it. He was turned by the Syndicate, but we... handled the situation."

Henry's eyes flick to me at this, and I have a feeling he knows exactly who "handled" Lawrence. I keep my face neutral, meeting his gaze evenly.

"I see," Henry says slowly. "And you've come to warn me out of the goodness of your hearts, is that it?"

There's a hint of sarcasm in his tone that sets me on edge. Beside me, I can feel Maverick tensing slightly.

"We came because this affects all of us," Jer says firmly. "If the Syndicate succeeds in turning even one of your people, it could spark a war that would engulf us all. I’m guessing you had no idea that they tried to turn one of your men?”

He shakes his head. “No, but I’ll be ensuring that whoever it is they’ve spoken to is dealt with.”

Jer sighs. “Not just one, Henry,” he tells him, pushing the document with every name they contacted on it. “We’re talking at least a dozen of your men they’ve spoken to.”

Henry Gallagher's eyes narrow as he scans the list of names. The calm demeanor he's maintained throughout our meeting starts to crack, a dangerous glint appearing in his eyes.

"A dozen of my men," he says, his voice low and menacing. "A dozen traitors in my organization."

The tension in the room ratchets up several notches. I resist the urge to reach for my weapon, keeping my hands relaxed on the table. Beside me, I can sense Maverick and Stephen doing the same.

"We don't know for certain that they've all turned," Jer says carefully. "But they've all been approached by the Syndicate. It's possible some have remained loyal and simply failed to report the contact."

Henry's laugh is cold and humorless. "Failed to report? In my organization, that's as good as treason."

He stands abruptly and begins pacing behind his chair. The movement puts us all on edge, but we remain seated, watching him warily.

"You've done me a service by bringing this to my attention," Henry says finally, turning back to face us. "The Gallagher family doesn't forget its debts. What do you want in return?"

Jer leans forward slightly. "We want to work together on this, Henry. The Syndicate is a threat to all of us. If we combine our resources, we stand a better chance of stopping them before this escalates into all-out war."

Henry considers this for a long moment, his eyes sweeping over each of us in turn. When his gaze lands on me, I feel like he's looking right through me, seeing every secret, every kill.

"And your young Silencer here," Henry says, a ghost of a smile on his lips. "Would he be part of this joint effort?"

I feel Jer tense beside me, but his voice is steady when he replies, "Emmanuel is one of my best. If you need his skills, they're at your disposal."

Henry nods slowly. "Very well. We have a deal, Jerry. We'll work together to root out this Syndicate and any traitors in our midst. But nobody outside of the five of us knows that we’re in business and it’s to stay that way."

As Henry and Jer shake hands to seal the agreement, I can't shake the feeling that we've just made a deal with the devil. But if it means stopping the Syndicate and preventing a war, it's a risk we have to take.

"Now," Henry says, sitting back down and refilling his glass. "Let's discuss strategy, shall we?"

As the conversation turns to plans and tactics, I listen carefully, committing every detail to memory. Whatever comes next, I know one thing for certain: this is just the beginning of a very dangerous game.