Cathal
The family, minus the women and children, gathered in our underground prison beneath the warehouse.
We’d gradually arrived in the back of what appeared to anyone watching as various delivery trucks.
Nothing unusual about that. It was what went on inside the warehouse, in the secret basement, that they would’ve been interested in.
Our families were well guarded at the commune.
The men sent to care for those at the farm and warehouse in Detroit had been composed of our people and some of the Hounds.
Darragh asked Alistair to remain behind.
He became better known after he married Aisling.
He wasn’t happy, but he stayed. But he was linked into both groups’ comms the entire time.
And they had cameras like the ones the military or the police wear, so he got real-time video.
Waiting was always the hardest part, in my opinion, but it is over now. Bronagh had told me to be careful before kissing me and sending us off. Her dad came with us, but we insisted he and his men stay in the back of the cargo trucks, so they had no idea where we were headed. They agreed.
Thankfully, the basement was larger than the warehouse above, which was huge.
There was plenty of space, so we didn't feel like sardines in a can. According to the cameras, the team at the warehouse had successfully captured the Methot brothers and their right-hand man. The men who fought back were killed. Those who were caught up in it, not knowing what the hell they’d just been chosen for, had been let go with warnings that if they opened their mouths, our people would hunt them down.
All their wallets, including their IDs, had been photographed.
It should be enough to scare them into staying quiet.
But if they didn’t, no one’s face had been shown, no identifying marks were visible, and no names were used.
The same happened at the farm. Some fought, and they went down.
Others immediately hid and then surrendered.
The two Methots seated, or I should say, tied to the chair before us, looked worse for wear.
They were scraped and bruised. Their clothes were dirty, torn, and wrinkled.
When the assault on the warehouse went down, we all watched the camera feeds on the monitors.
The two of them tried to run. They didn’t attempt to fight.
They hid like rats when they realized they couldn’t escape and had to be dragged out of their hidey-holes.
They begged to be let go and tried to bribe our people.
Their number one sat there stoically. He’d fought back but ended up overwhelmed.
From the photos Cody and Gianna had found, we knew which one Primo was. He was the oldest. He had slightly longer dark hair that curled on his neck. The two of them were thirty-four and thirty-three.
According to their history, the two of them had always been in trouble, even as kids and teenagers.
They’d always been the ones looking to make a quick buck and not work a real job.
Whispers about how they made their money began years ago, but only in the last few years had they grown louder as their lifestyle improved significantly.
No one knew for sure what they were involved in, but those who knew them hadn’t doubted it was illegal.
They had distant cousins, who were being dug into to see if they had any dealings in their business.
They seemed to have tucked away a mom. She wasn’t seen much, although they visited her every so often, according to Gia.
She lived in a small cottage outside of Sault Ste.
Marie, Ontario. Their dad had left them when the kids were small.
The plan was to get most of the details from these three. However, we’d still dig on our end to make sure everything and everyone involved were taken care of.
Alistair and Hollis walked behind them, causing the brothers to twist their heads to try to see what they were up to. All they did was remove the brothers’ gags. They left the third guy as he was for now.
“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stop this right now and let us go,” Primo said as soon as his mouth was clear.
“That’s right. You don’t want us as your enemies,” Lotario added.
They’d been bound and transported back in one of our custom planes with our guys. They’d been seated at the back of the plane, gagged. Whatever happened on the way back, the brothers had decided to try to bluff their way out of this.
“Oh, look who’s trying to act tough. You weren’t so tough when our people invaded your little meeting. You two ran and hid, then begged when they caught you,” Hollis said. Disgust was evident in his tone.
“They just want to pretend they’re not cowards in front of their subordinate here. At least he stood up and tried to fight back, and he didn’t hide or beg,” Alistair tacked on.
The rest of us murmured in approval. First, we wanted to divide them.
And one way to do it was to compare them unfavorably to their first-in-command.
According to the wallet they found on him, his name was Michel Lalonde.
He was thirty-six years old and from Ontario.
He had served in the Canadian Armed Forces, Army Command, for six years in his early twenties.
We knew that from the preliminary research Cody’s team conducted during their flight home.
The Methots glared at us and cast narrow-eyed glances at Lalonde, who kept his eyes forward.
“You don’t want to do this. We have powerful friends and work associates.
They won’t take what you’ve done lightly.
If you kill us, there will be no one to try to talk them out of wiping all of you out.
That includes you, O’Sheerans, for protecting those goddamn Bragans,” Primo said, staring intently at Faolán.
“Oh, we’re shaking in our shoes,” Rory wisecracked.
“What the hell is your problem with my family? I’ve never heard of you,” Faolán told him.
“Don’t act like you don’t know,” Lotario snapped.
“It’s no act. I’ve never heard of you until a few days ago when we were told your names.
That first group you sent here to stop my daughter’s wedding, and if unable to do that, to kill her, told us your names.
But they had no idea why you wanted her dead so badly.
And we know you were behind the ambush of me in Las Cruces at the private airfield and running my daughter off the road in Tallahassee,” Faolán said calmly back.
I knew he was fuming, but he remained calm. We’d had conversations as we waited for their return on how we’d handle this.
“You deserve to lose everything that means anything to you. Your businesses and the territory you run, as well as your precious daughter. You thought hiding her away would protect her, but it didn’t,” Primo replied.
“But why does he deserve to lose them?” Alistair asked.
“He knows,” was all Primo said.
His brother nodded. It would take some pain to get to the bottom of their hatred of Faolán. First, we’d ask them the usual information-gathering questions nicely. Undoubtedly, they’d refuse to answer them. Then, we’d move to inflicting pain to loosen their tongues and open up their memories.
Alistair and Hollis spent the next twenty-seven minutes being polite and asking questions. They got nothing but silence or insults. I know how long it took because I timed it.
“Are we ready to change this up?” Alistair asked Darragh.
“I am. And I want to confer with you on how I think it should go. Let’s step over here,” Dar said.
When he moved further from the three men, all of us followed. We had none of the bodyguards or Hounds with us down here. They remained on guard duty above ground. They knew we could handle this, even if it had been one-on-one odds.
“We need to target Lotario first. Not only is he the weaker of the two, but Primo is protective of him. Did you see how he kept reacting whenever we mocked or pressed his younger brother? If Lotario won’t talk, then Primo might, to stop us from hurting his brother more,” Darragh stated.
“I agree,” I added.
The rest of the family and Hollis murmured their agreement. We were all good at assessing cracks in our enemies’ armor, so to speak.
“And if neither breaks, we’ll move to Primo and finally Lalonde. I don’t believe torturing Lalonde will cause either brother to crack,” Hollis stated.
“Let’s do it, but if we see anything that indicates we need to change it up, speak up,” Darragh instructed.
The whole thing took no more than five minutes. When we faced them again, Alistair said, “Let’s start with the youngest and work our way up. Get him laid out.”
Lotario’s expression changed for a couple of moments, showing his fear before he somehow got back to a hateful one.
His gaze shifted to the metal autopsy table.
Aidan and Shane were the two who untied his arms and legs from the chair and practically dragged him to the table.
He was slung down on it with a thud when they had to lift him onto it.
As Shane held his struggling upper body down, Aidan secured Lotario’s wrists in the restraints attached to the table.
Then they shifted to his legs. That time, Aidan held him down while Shane secured him.
“Let me go!” Lotario shouted, wiggling to get loose when there was no escape for him.
“Save your voice and energy. Yelling won’t change anything. Telling us everything we want to know will result in less pain and duration of infliction of it,” Alistair told him.
“And at any time, your brother is free to answer for you. I shouldn’t have to tell you what’s coming, but my cousin will. Cathal, would you like to tell him anything?” Dar asked nonchalantly. I moved to stand over Lotario.
“You came against my family’s home. You gave orders for your men to enter and kill my wife. You didn’t care if you killed anyone else. We don’t forgive those who do that. And we sure the fuck don’t allow them to go free or not to suffer before they die.” I told him gruffly.