Glass and other debris crunched underfoot.  Aurora trembled, taking a drag off her cigarette.  She hadn't smoked one in so many years she'd almost forgotten how it felt.  There was a comfort to the long pulls and the burning sensation she came with each drag.  She wanted physical pain right now... needed it to counter the ache in her chest and her bloody knuckles weren't enough.

Billy was out... somewhere.  She'd called the office and got his secretary who had said Billy had left in a hurry but didn't say where he was going... just that he took his black guns.  This, whatever he was doing, it was about Will.  Billy knew something.  Of course, he knew something, Godfathers always knew something!

Aurora paced and took another drag, trembling.  She was pregnant but she hadn't wanted a drink this badly since ... 

Dad.

Her eyes burned from all the tears, her throat was raw from screaming, and yet she felt she could scream for a lifetime and it would never get out all the venom that was rolling in her veins right now.  Will, her little brother, the boy whose birth she'd been present for... that ever-present little scab who she'd wished out of existence more times than she ever would admit to... was really gone.  He and his lovely wife.  But for all the rage that created in her belly, it was nothing beside the brilliant agony growing in her chest - the unrealistic levels of terror she was having at every thought about her middle daughter Tara.

Tara had been gone two days now.  Two.  She'd told Billy there was nothing to fear.  She trusted Tara... trusted the woman Tara had gone with... the woman who had put a knife to her throat less than a week ago.  A woman who had come for her head.  What if it was all a long game?  Giancarlo had lost a daughter... perhaps he'd sent Oriana to take a daughter from her in the worst most painful way possible.  Make Tara fall in love with her, lure her off on some romantic get-a-way and then send her back a piece at a time?  Call and let her hear Tara's screams?  

Aurora punched the wall again creating another hole in the drywall right beside the others.  Aurora's sobs were full-body, terrible wracking things that she could not control.  Every horrible thing that could be done to Tara was playing out in her head on repeat.  And all Aurora could do was pace... waiting.  It's all she seemed to do now.  Waiting to avenge her mother.  Waiting to avenge her father.  Waiting for more information on her brother's murder... waiting to find out if her nephew or her daughter yet lived.

A knock at her office door.

"Mrs. Mastrosimone?"  One of Billy's fucking sycophants.  Good-hearted, sure, but useless to her right now ... likely coming to offer her another distraction like these fucking cigarettes.  They were disgusting.  Aurora, trembling, pulled out another after disposing of the previous one.

"COME!"  She called out.

"The children are accounted for and in lockdown."

"Except Tara."  she snarled.

The young man hesitated, she could feel him stepping backward without needing to turn and look at him in the doorway.  "We're trying, Mrs. Mastrosimone."

Aurora screamed, "SMETTI DI PROVARE E FALLO!" 

The young man fled, closing the door behind him. 

"Find my baby girl ..."  she pleaded falling over her desk, staring down at one of the few photos she had of the daughter who she thought of as so much like herself. 

The car pulled into a shabby little place called the Crestridge Motel.  Oriana paid while Tara paced outside by the car.  She was frantically trying to think of what she'd say.  There was so much her mother needed to know.  If only she was closer, if only she could be there with her now ...

Oriana came out of the office carrying a metal key attached to a large bright orange keyring. The two quickly walked to room 11 and went inside.  Tara made a beeline for the phone.  Oriana, on the other hand, settled into a chair after peaking around the room.  Her gun out, her eyes locked on the door, Ori appeared as if she expected there might be trouble.  If there was, she looked as though she meant to be ready for it.

One ring.  That's all it took.

"BILLY?"

"Mom."

Her mother was crying.

"Mom... I'm okay.  I'm okay mom.  Mom... please."  Tears came to her eyes.

"Where are you?"  Aurora sounded as though she was trying to get control of her emotions.

Tara swallowed, "A few hours outside the city yet.  On our way back."

"Let me talk to her."

"Mom... Mom, I'm so sorry.  I love you ... I..."

"Tara."  Her voice was a bolt of lightning splitting the air and Tara's body went rigid and responded without thought.  Offering the phone to Ori she stared at the other woman, helplessly.

Ori took the phone, still keeping an eye on the door. "Orders?"

"L'italiano di mia figlia non è come dovrebbe essere, parleremo in italiano. La tua posizione attuale? Si trova a sud, est, nord o ovest della città? "

"Ovest. Nordovest."

"C'è una casa. Non ha legami con noi. Non ci ho mai nemmeno messo piede. È pensato per tempi come questo. Dovrai essere CERTO che non ti stanno seguendo - NON sottovalutare le abilità di questi persone. Loro ... se arrivassero a William, avrebbero ucciso Volkov. Se avessero ucciso Volkov ... "

Ori frowned. Not New York? "Eravamo in una macchina veloce in direzione di New York. Meno di due ore prima che potessimo essere lì. Ma se pensi che questa casa sia migliore, ovviamente andremo. Indirizzo?"

Ori glanced at Tara. The younger girl seemed frustrated by the Italian, but seemed to be putting more effort into trying to translate that venting any emotion other than her tears.

"Tara non dovrebbe vedere cosa succederà. I miei figli dovrebbero essere ..."  Aurora chokes up a moment, "... lontano dal pericolo."

Ori thought "Non esiste un posto simile" and considering saying it when Aurora asked the other question.

"Tu ... tu sei di Venezia, sì?"

"Si."

"Accidenti."  Aurora sighs and mutters, "Possa Dio perdonarmi.  Bring her with you. Quickly."

"I'll bring her."

"Do not fuck around with these people. They've crossed a line, there's no coming back from it. He feels I cost him his daughter I have no doubt he'd take mine if given the chance.:

"I understand."

Aurora draws a breath. "Put her on the phone. I'll see you both soon."

Ori holds the phone up for Tara.

Tara looks confused but walks back to take the phone. "No bunker then?"

"No."  Aurora said softly.  "Not for you, not this time.  You're with your father.  I need your help.  I think you understand that this is not something I can let go."

Tara looks up from the floor to Ori as she listens to her mother speaking.

Though Aurora can not see it, Tara nods and eventually says. "Yes, Mom."

"Your father isn't going to like my intentions, but facts are facts.  I need you to be the voice of reason when he tries to do something stupid.  I know I'm asking a lot of you here.  You're just a girl.  It's not fair.  Life ... it isn't fair and I know you wanted to keep hiding in your woods Tara, but the world needs people like you.  I need you.  Come home and help me make sure your father understands how much your siblings need him."  Aurora sobbed.  "I love you, Tara."

"I love you too."  Tara hangs up the phone.

"I'm supposed to do everything you say. No questions, no protests. So... what now?"

"I drive you home. Really fast. If there was anyone following us, they would have come after us in the woods. No way they could have caught us on our way out if they didn't know where we were going, and I didn't tell anyone. Besides, we switched cars... what, twenty minutes ago? We'll be fine."

But that doesn't mean we'll relax. Follow me out."  Ori flicks the safety on her gun, peers out the window and the door, then makes her way back toward the car.

“Mrs. Mastrosimone?”  Aurora picked her head up off the desk.  “Your husband is home, he’s downstairs in the kitchen.”

Aurora stood up and was going to race to Billy but the man, Bates – right?  Bates stepped in the way.  “There’s a few things you need to know before you go down there.  The first is that Billy was picking up your nephew from the train station.”

Aurora stopped as if she hit a brick wall.  Malcolm had traveled alone from Philly by train?  He’d been on a train when his parents died at home?  No… that meant Volkov put him on the train and if he put him on the train…

“Your brother, Volkov, was gunned down at the train station presumably moments after putting your nephew on the train.”

Aurora’s heart went through her feet, down into the floor.  The little boy had been there for his parents’ death and then Volkov’s as well?  Volkov had to be as close to that boy as Neil ever was to her.  It hit her then that Malcolm wasn’t here for a visit … he was here because he’d been orphaned today.  He was… eight?  She felt horrible.  She wasn’t even one-hundred percent sure of his age.  Her own nephew, her brother’s only son.

Will’s only son.  Now Gavin & Bella’s only blood-related descendant.

Bates took her arm.  “You okay?”

They’re almost gone… oh God – WHY!?!

“It was supposed to be Will’s job.”  She whispered as Bates took her to a chair.  “I was supposed to be first… Will was out… he was supposed to love my children for me when Billy and I were gone.  It’s not supposed to be like this…”

“We do what we must.”  Bates rubbed her back and Rora let him.  “Billy wants to see you, when you can stand again we’ll go down together.”

Aurora shook her head.  “I’m okay.  It’s the kid.  I’m worried about him.”

“He hasn’t said a word.”

Aurora sighed.  “Will didn’t talk for two days after mom…”  She put her hands on her thighs and pushed herself back up.  The weariness of grief was becoming a familiar sensation and she was running out of people to lose.  Did her father feel this way at the end?  Was that why he so willingly ran in front of the sniper’s blasts?  He could not bear to bury her too.  Death, she admitted to herself, would be a welcome relief if it meant never burying one of her own children.

Down the stairs and then the too-short walk to the kitchen where something was cooking … pancakes, she realized.  Pushing the door into the kitchen she first saw Billy behind the stove flipping flapjacks.  It was a little late for breakfast, but he probably didn’t know if his companion had eaten today.  Of course, by the look on his little face, Aurora was sure he wouldn’t.  The boy’s complexion was pale and sickly.  His eye vacant and his stare distant.  She’d seen that look on the face of his father, a few years older than Malcolm was now, nearly two decades ago. 

“There you are.”  Billy said in a far happier and more normal tone than he had to be feeling.  It caught Aurora utterly off guard.  “Malcolm, this is your Aunt Aurora.  Aurora, this is Malcolm Byrne.”

Billy could have punched her using all his strength and it would have hurt less than seeing a face so like her brothers, look at her with such… emptiness.  She wanted to run to him, to hold him… to hold Will she realized.  She didn’t know Malcolm and he didn’t know her.  He might not want her to touch him.  He might not, she realized in horror, think much of her at all considering what his father had been doing all these years. 

Did the boy understand any of why his father was doing all he’d done?  Did he think of her as a thief and murderer… a villain who was just as responsible for his father’s death as the ones who planted the bomb?  Maybe more so since she had a face, perhaps the face, of the mafia … Lord knew the press painted it that way when talking about and to Will.

Aurora didn’t go to him, instead she nodded to him and softened her voice, “Hello Malcolm.”

She looked back to Billy. 

“So, the children, they’re on their way home now? Malcolm will want to meet his cousins.”

Aurora shook her head.  “Bunkered.  All but Tara, but she just called a bit ago.”

“Good, so you sent her to the safe house?”  Billy asked.

Aurora shook her head no.  “She’s with Oriana.”

Billy nodded.  Of course, he knew that. 

“Oriana knows Venice.”

Billy quickly threw out, “And you’re thinking about your upcoming vacation there.”

Aurora eyed Malcolm and then said, “Yes.  I’ve called Catalina and told her I need to borrow Oriana for the trip.  Billy, we should … step into the other room and talk.”

“No.”  Billy’s voice was firm but kind.  “I don’t think so.”

“Malcolm really doesn’t need to hear any of …”

“You see that’s where you’re wrong.  Right now, what we need, what we have all always needed was to be together.  Family first.  Above everything.  What my young nephew doesn’t need right now is to be left alone.  Not for a moment and after everything he’s been through today I’m pretty sure nothing we say is going to make things worse.”

Aurora looked at Malcolm who seemed indifferent to the world around him, consumed by his thoughts.

“Okay,” she allowed.  “Let’s talk about this.”

“So you want to go on vacation to Venice with Oriana?”

Aurora nodded.

“Fine.”  Billy put another pancake onto a plate, the third in a stack.

“Fine?”  Was he really just going to let her go… no pleading her to wait, no promises that he was coming with her whether she liked it or not?  Nothing? 

“Fine.  After we get all the kids back here to the house with me, you’re on a plane to Venice with Oriana and Brigitte.”

Aurora shook her head.  “Brigitte?  Billy why in the name of God would I take Brigitte?”

“She’s not untrained.  You have worked with her, but that’s not why she’s going.  There’s someone you’re going to have to meet with and he might need to be handled in a different way and while I still believe you to be the most beautiful woman in all the world…”

“I’m not young.  But what about Oriana?  She’s young and beautiful and trained to take care of herself.”

“How far exactly am I supposed to trust the woman who came to this house to kill you?”  Billy stopped making pancakes for a moment.  “No.  For this, I want someone I can trust and the risk of the meeting is almost nil.  She doesn’t need a gun, she just needs to bat her eyelashes a little and she’s a good actress.”

“You’re crazy.”  Aurora said stepping forward.  “She’s a child and I’d spend every moment worrying about her rather than focusing on the job!”

“No.  She’s not a child.  She’s a woman.  She’s perfectly capable of this and more to the point maybe that’s what you need right now.”

“WHA-!”

“You’re emotionally compromised Rora and I want you to… NEED you to come back.  If I send Brigitte maybe you think before you do something reckless.”

Aurora looked wounded, hurt by Billy’s words, “You don’t think I’m capable of doing the job because I’m an emotional woman?!?”

“No.  Not because you’re a woman, but because you’re my Roar.  Damn it!  You just lost your brothers.” Aurora looked to Malcolm as Billy continued his tirade, but the boy acted as if he didn’t hear a thing.  “This man killed your father and I KNOW you.  You’re taking Brigitte and that’s the end of it!”

“I can’t believe you’re saying this…”  Rora was aghast.  “You’re using her Billy!  You’re putting our daughter in danger because you’re scared of losing me.”

“I’m not scared.”  Billy’s voice softened. “I just need to be sure you’re going to focus.”

“No.  I’m not doing it.”  Rora said firmly.  For a moment Billy and Rora’s eyes locked, two animals in a stare down.  In all the years of their marriage, Aurora and Billy had never had a moment like this.  They’d fought, sure, but always he gave in – even over Russia and that had been the worst fight they’d ever had.  Always when she dug in her heels she knew, he wouldn’t make her do what she did not want to do.  This time, she wasn’t sure.  Billy was as shaken as she was, she could see it now, behind those brown eyes of his – this wasn’t Russia.  This was worse. 

“Fine.”  He snarled, banging the spatula on the pan a little harder than he meant to.  Malcolm winced a bit, but Billy hadn’t noticed.  “Go.  Get on the damn plane.  Do things your way.  You’re not going to listen to me.  You NEVER listen to me.”

Aurora started to open her mouth but Billy cut her off and she simply gaped at him as he continued.

“My wife, the woman I chose as my partner in life and as my Right-Hand in all things business and family, whose judgement I trust so much I let my daughter continue to spend time with a… a woman who came to kill you – you don’t listen.”

He continued, “You’ve decided you know better.  You don’t want, or need Brigitte’s help not as my wife and not as my hand and I don’t have time for this shit.  I won’t fight with you.  I’ve got too much going on, too many balls in the air.  I need to keep our family together, our businesses running, send Addie and Charlie to handle some matters for us, Catalina to Boston because – ain’t this a kick – we’ve been in bed with the man who did all this for years now.”

Aurora narrowed her eyes.

“I just wanted to send you help, help you could actually use and help that I trusted.  Help from a daughter who has wanted nothing more than to be at your side for years.  I KNOW I can’t go.  I KNOW what dangers you’ll face.  I’m going to sit here ordering people around and waiting and…”

It was then, as he continued on about how much he had to do that she started to hear the truth.  Billy did want to go.  He hated letting her walk into danger, hated sending her with a woman he still felt was untested and might yet turn on her, hated not being there to protect her and comfort her when she need it most but he had the wisdom to see his place… finally. 

She’d won the long impossible argument, but this moment, when he needed her to know her place… to accept what she’d pushed him to do all these years… this would set the tone for the years that followed.  Would he be the leader of this family, and Family, who had a hand and wife who did not support him? A man who questioned him in times when he made tough calls – or one who obediently did as she was told even if she had doubts? 

She’d told him, all those years ago, that Russia was a one-time thing.  She’d prayed for years that it would be, but here they were again.  If she asserted that her word countermanded him it would be Billy the leader in the streets and Aurora the leader at home… at best.  At worst, she’d undermine every bit of progress they’d made together as a couple, as a team, as Don and Consigliere.

“Two things.”  She said, her voice much softer now – clearly disengaging any fight that might be happening here.

Billy kept working, not looking at her while she spoke.  He was hurting emotionally and he was afraid.

“The first is that your wife and hand didn’t refuse to take Brigitte… her mother did.”  She shook her head and glanced to Malcolm.  “I love my children.  I want them all safe, as any parent does.”

She looked back to Billy, “All of them.  And considering my condition right now maybe I’m a bit more emotional about their safety.”  She touched her belly to remind Billy that she had all the reasons in the world NOT to be reckless.  This wasn’t a suicide mission for vendetta.  She had every intention of returning home to her kids and husband.

“The second is I’m sorry that you can’t come with me.”  Billy stopped then.  He looked up to her, and she could see it in his eyes.  “I know how hard it is to want to do something so much and know that you can’t… to choose to do the hard thing because it’s right.”

Aurora shook her head and averted her eyes, “And maybe right now I’m not capable of doing that.  Maybe I’ve… I’ve only been thinking about me and who much I need to do this thing and do it my way.  I’m hurt.  You’re right.  I’m… emotional.  I’m not my best and I need to be, for you and the kids.  So… I’ll do it.  I’ll take her with me.”

Aurora’s shoulder sunk.  She always choked on humble pie, but she prided herself on getting it down.  She’d let Billy call the shots, at least from the top level… but on the ground, she’d do whatever she had to.

“I’m not asking you to put a gun in her hands Roar, but she speaks the language and she’s a good actress.  She’s pretty and an obvious American but not you.  She’s young and beautiful and she has a talent for making people do what she wants them to do and you need that subtly with you if you’re going to get close.”

Aurora nodded and they were silent for a time.  She then looked at the huge pile of pancakes.  “You do realize he’s not going to eat that many if he eats at all…”

Billy smiled, “We have a house full of guards, the kids are coming back and I’m eating too so even if my buddy here doesn’t have any…”

“Have you asked him what he wants to eat?”

Billy looked over to Malcolm and sadly said, “Well he’s not up for much chatting right now.”

Aurora walked over to Malcolm and knelt down in front of him.  His vacant eyes connected with hers and only then did she say, “Hello.  I know you’re hurting right now.  It doesn’t stop.  I won’t tell you it goes away, but it won’t be this bad forever.  And you’re not alone.  You’ll never be alone.  Your parents, they love you and they are always with you Malcolm, the same way Grandma Bella and Grandpa Gavin were always with your father.”

Malcolm blinked at the mention of his grandparents.

“You know what?  I bet you don’t want pancakes… but I bet you do like ice cream?”  Something in his eyes seemed to wake up at the mention of ice cream, it wasn’t much but it was something and so Aurora looked to Billy who was already talking – taking his cue, her perfect partner still. 

“We do have ice cream, of course, I don’t know what kind he likes best so I can’t really get it for him.  So what kind is it, Buddy?  You got a favorite flavor?”

Malcolm wet his mouth and then eked out one quiet word, “Chocolate.”

Billy’s face lit up.  “Chocolate it is!”

Rora, still afraid of hugging the boy put a hand on his knee.  “You’re safe here, Malcolm.  We’ll get you a room set up.  Uncle Billy will send some men to your house to gather some of your things.”

“Speaking of …” Billy said.  “I heard from two friends of ours in Washington who are at Will’s house today.  An older man and a younger one.”

“Bob & Garrett.”  Aurora said standing up.

“I’m going to have him looking into that matter with the secretary.  I’ve got something for Gavin to handle at the docks… a small thing, I promise, no danger.”

“I trust you.”  Aurora said as his eyes met hers.

Billy nodded.

“Addie and Charlie I’ve got working on another angle and I’m sending Catalina to Boston to deal with that matter of our connection to them through business.  And… I’m thinking I’m going to keep Tara at my side the whole time.  I don’t really know how to start teaching her things but this is as good a place as any… with you gone, I’ll need help.”

Aurora arched an eyebrow.  That Tara looked so much like her wasn’t going to go unnoticed either.  She didn’t know if Billy meant for Tara to be mistaken for her in order to create confusion as to what was happening… but with him using Gavin to get information at the docks and him sending Brigitte to Venice it seemed likely.

“I thought we wanted the kids out.”  She said softly as she watched Billy filling up the bowl with chocolate ice cream.

“No one is out, Rora.  Your parents were Godfathers.  Too powerful to ever hope their children would be out… even Will.  He just fought the war another way, but he never stopped being a part of it – today proves that.  We can’t put our heads in the sand.  The kids need to know that whatever they choose to do in life we’ll support it – but we can’t let them forget they’re still connected to this, to us.  The truth is, even if they never spoke to us again, our enemies will never forget that they’re part of what we do.”

Aurora nodded.

“Family first.  Now.  Always.”  Billy said coming to the table with the ice cream.  “No more standing apart, fighting wars alone.  We’re more powerful together.” 

Billy took her into his arms then, for the first time since she’d learned of Will and Volkov and he held her tightly to him.  Aurora melted into his strength and imagined herself drawing from it.  She needed it so badly now.  She needed him.

“I’ll come back to you, il mio toro, luce dei miei occhi.”

Billy kissed the top of her head, “You’d better, profondità della mia anima.”

The house had become a fortress.  There were more men working for her parents here than she’d ever met before.  The shock came when they stopped Ori at the door and clearly intended to pat her down.

“HEY!  GET YOUR HANDS OFF HER!”  Tara growled, grabbing the forearm of a man twice her size, pulling his hand violently away from the other woman before he could touch her. “Since when did this family start patting down friends?”

“Miss Tara I’m just following your father’s orders…”

“Well, I’m ordering you to stand the FUCK down and recheck your instructions before I make you do something to me that you won’t live to regret.”

The man held up his hands defensively and nodded to one of the other guys who ran into the house to check with Billy.

Oriana looked at the man who'd stepped forward to pat her down.  "Look, pal. I know you're just doing your job and things are on edge at the moment. But you're not going to pat me down."

There was a hard edge to her voice with the last statement and a tone of certainty.

"I'll show you where all my weapons are, if you'd like. Even leave them here with you. Tara here knows everything I have on me, and I'm pretty sure you can trust her.”  Tara nodded her agreement with Ori’s statement.  “Aurora Mastrosimone ordered me to bring her daughter back, so that's what I'm doing. If you want to delay me from doing that, then good luck."

The door came open a heartbeat later, a woman with black hair cut in a severe bowl shape, nodded to them.  “Mrs. Mastrosimone says to send them up straight away.”

Tara raced up the steps and held the door for Ori, keeping an eye on the offending guards until she pulled the door closed behind them.

“I’m Carlin, your mother’s new body man when she’s here in the city.  She’s upstairs in her office.  She’s on a call.  Just keep your voices down when you go in.”

Tara nodded and led Oriana upstairs to her mother’s office, ignoring her father’s laugh in the kitchen.  She couldn’t imagine what could have her father laughing right now.  Pushing open the door, Tara was greeted by a sight that she never thought in all her life to see.  The office was in shambles.  Her mother’s things were tossed about, there were several holes in the wall, shattered glass and loose papers littered the floor.  Her mother dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, and Grandpa Gavin’s old leather jacket stood behind the desk, knuckles scabbing with dried blood, her eyes red from crying.  Her m1911s in place… she looked ready to run out the door.

“Log the flight plan.  I want to leave as soon as I can.  I’ll call you before we get in the car to head your way.”

A pause.

“Of course.  Thank you.  It means a lot that you’re coming with us on this trip.  This is the last one, I promise, after we get back you can retire to whatever tropical paradise you like.  Just pick one.  You’ve earned it. You’ve served my family faithfully all your adult life… it’s my honor to make sure you’re taken care of at the end of yours.”

Another pause.

“I’ll see you soon.”  She hung up the phone and looked at Tara and Oriana.  Tara’s eyes continued to sweep the room, surveying the damage. 

“Oh Mom…”

Aurora came around the desk and without hesitation interrupted Tara’s worry over the mess with her embrace.  “You have no idea how scared I was…”

“I was fine mom.  I was safe with Ori.”  Tara spoke into her mother’s shoulder.

Aurora looked to Oriana over Tara’s shoulder and gave her a nod.  “Thank you.”

Oriana nodded.

Aurora continued to look at Oriana as she pulled back from her daughter but then forced herself to look at Tara, taking her face between her palms.  “Your father has decided to stay here, with you and the family.  Your cousin Malcolm is here.  He’s… gonna need a very gentle touch for a while.”

“I know.”  Tara said nodding.

“Your father is going to lean on you.  He’ll need you to make calls, help with some of the aspects of business while he’s busy helping us from here.”

“How is going to help you from all the way over here?”

“Criminal empires don’t run on rainbows and sunshine and your father doesn’t just have muscle in his arms and legs… if he flexes the right way, he can make our enemies feel it and while some men are loyal out of a sense of duty – not all people are so altruistic especially when they’re watching a once great man spiral out of control and do things no man of honor would stand for.”

Aurora walked around her desk, “If he hasn’t already, soon he’ll be falling out of favor with the other families.  He’s brought some very dangerous attention to the Old Country and I’m certain they have not forgotten my last visit.  If I’d kill my own blood for touching my family – they know what I’m going to do next.  Anyone who has half a brain, who values their lives and their holdings, will begin alienating him.  He’s old, even if I fail, his time is nearly up.  None of them want to enter into a prolonged war with the American Mafia, especially not one with a reputation like our family has.”

Tara nodded to all her mother was saying and walked towards her desk, noting her picture there.  Picking it up, she smiled.  “My tenth birthday.”

Aurora nodded and smiled, feeling some happiness at the memory.  “You’d just lost that eye tooth.  Remember how you used to whistle when you talked?”

Tara rolled her eyes and put the picture down.

“So… you’re leaving soon.”

Aurora nodded and opened the drawer on her desk and pulled out a notepad.  “I took a little time to write down some important information for you, in case the worst happens.”

She offered it to her daughter.  Tara stared at the book like it was a poisonous snake at first and then she took it. 

“Under no circumstances are you to share the details in there Tara.  Omerta.  You must understand that’s the keys to the kingdom.  I’m trusting you to make sure your siblings are taken care of, that everyone is safe.”

“Why me?”  Tara asked.

“Because of all your siblings you were the only one who argued for their best interests, you fought to protect this family and you have good head on your shoulders.  Brigitte is easily distracted with all she’d got going on, Gavin has a hard time making the tough calls and the twins are too young… even if they weren’t we both know what they’d do with that.”

Tara let her chin fall but nodded.

Aurora swallowed and forced the word out, “Squirt.”  

Tara looked up, hearing her mother say the nickname was jarring.  “It’s just a precaution.  I’m coming home.”

“Of course.”  Tara said softly.  Downstairs a ruckus kicked up and voices drifted up to the office. 

“Their here.”  Aurora said.

“You took them out of the bunker?”  Tara looked at the door and back to her mom in shock.

“Your father’s call.  We’re stronger together.  He’s right and he needs all of you.  Keep the twins out of trouble the best you can, okay?”

“Don’t worry about that, they always listen to Brigitte.” As if summoned the door came open and the blonde walked in.

“Thank God you came to your senses…”  The door wasn’t quite opened as the melodic sound of Brigitte’s voice filled the air.  “… and what the hell happened in here?!?” 

Tara sighed.

“Brigitte will be coming with me and Oriana to Venice.”

“Oriana will … but… AND Brigitte?!?”

“I’ve always wanted to go there.”  Brigitte smiled, putting her weight onto her left leg and jutting her right hip out to the side, regarding her younger sister with a smirk.

“I’ve already spoken to Catalina.”  Aurora said to Oriana.  “You can call to confirm, of course, but I need to finish packing.  Brigitte will you show Oriana where we keep the gear downstairs and let her pick out whatever she thinks might be helpful.”

Tara’s mouth hung open, stunned at these turns of events.

“Tara, you should probably go talk to your Dad and see what if anything he’ll need you starting on.  Now, come here and give me another hug.”  Aurora held out her arms. 

“I …” Tara started to talk but cut off and went over to do as she was told.  After giving her mother a hug she receded and Brigitte came forward capturing her mother’s attention with some questions on what she needed to pack.

Tara stood silent watching Brigitte take center stage in front of her mother, she glanced to Oriana only a moment before starting to turn towards the door and nearly tripped over the bag she’d carried up and dropped to hug her mother.  Looking down at it she could hear her grandfather’s voice again and instantly she opened the bag.  Without hesitation, she strode across the shattered panes of glass from and the faces of dead men behind them.  Tara pulled the knife from its sheath and with all the strength she could muster she stabbed into her mother’s desk between her sister and her mom.

Both Mastrosimone women went silent.  Brigitte gaped openly at her sister but Rora stared at the knife as Tara spoke. 

“I need to talk to you.”  As Aurora looked up at her daughter, Tara added, “Alone.” 

Aurora looked to Brigitte.  “Take Oriana to a phone if she wants to call Catalina and then to the armory.”  She nodded to Ori, “Gear up.”

“Yeah.”  Brigitte said, looking at Tara as if she’d gone insane for a moment before shaking her head and looking to Oriana.  “Well, looks like it’s you and me.”  She motioned toward the door.  “Shall we?”

Oriana had been leaning against the wall with her arms crossed and her head down. Not her family- not her business.

Still, she raised an eyebrow when she heard that someone else was coming with them. Brigitte. Wasn't Brigitte- Oriana's thought were interrupted as a leggy blonde strode into the room. She kept her head down, until Rora addressed her.

“I’ve already spoken to Catalina. You can call to confirm, of course, but I need to finish packing.  Brigitte will you show Oriana where we keep the gear downstairs and let her pick out whatever she thinks might be helpful.”

"I'll call, just to confirm a few things. Then I'll go get my things ready."

Ori grinned as Tara stabbed the knife onto the desk. Good girl. That seemed like a talk the needed to happen. 

“Well, looks like it’s you and me. Shall we?”

Oriana nodded toward Brigitte and followed her out and into another office close by. The phone conversation with Catalina was quick: orders to stay alive, a few sarcastic jokes, and a heartfelt "Good luck" from her boss. When she was done, she glanced at Brigitte.

"Armory?"

Brigitte smiled at Oriana, letting her gaze go up and down her once before nodding.  "This way." 

Down the stairs, the two went into the main parlor where a giant of a man who could not be mistaken for anyone else but Billy Mastrosimone's eldest son was watching over two younger and much smaller siblings. 

"Give it back!"  said Isabella, a particularly nymph-like girl with long limbs and large doe-like eyes set in a heart-shaped face framed with raven black hair.

"No way, it's mine, I found it!"  said Jack, a slender boy, lithe and athletic, who ran from his twin through the parlor and into the den.

At the sight of Oriana, Gavin pulled off his peaky cap and held it in front of him.  He gave the lovely young woman who was about his age what some might have lovingly been called 'a big dumb grin.'

"Miss."  He said with a polite nod.  

"Cool it, Romeo."  Brigitte quipped passing her younger brother patting him condescendingly as if he were smaller than she was.  "This is... what did you call her... cookie sheet girl?"

Gavin suddenly looked uncomfortable and stammered in confusion, "Um... hi?"

Brigitte snickered and turned at the base of the stairs and moved towards a door where the woman Carlin was sitting.  Upon seeing Ori and Brigitte, Carlin stood and unlocked the door and held it open revealing a set of stairs going down to a basement.  Brigitte flipped on the light switch and began to descend.

Behind them the door closed again and locked.  Brigitte didn't look back, "My parents don't let the kids down here, for obvious reasons."  At the base of the stairs she flipped on a light switch that revealed a cement floor, downward sloped, a single drain that indicated the room might have multiple purposes in a pinch... but with what was down here now, it was highly unlikely they'd take an enemy into this space.

Weapons, ammo, body armor, practical tactical gear, tools, tents, climbing equipment, it was a warehouse of toys for those in the business. On the far wall a box of key hung, dozens.  Most appeared to be to cars or trucks but they are unlabeled.

"Welcome to the candy store.  You heard my mom, lady's choice.  Take your pick of anything you think you might need and while you're shopping you can tell me where you got that coat my sister stole from you.  It was pretty amazing.  I bet you could hide a damn sword under a jacket like that."

She laughed, "Not that we have swords... here at least."

Oriana raised an eyebrow as Brigitte looked her over- didn't necessarily blame her. After all, Oriana was wearing the clothes she'd put on three days ago and, while she'd jumped in the lake once or twice, she was far from her most presentable. She'd have to grab a shower before the plane, at least. Maybe a change of clothes. Still, weapons were the first priority.

She followed the pretty blonde out the door, noting her confident, graceful movements.

And it was a full fledged family gathering, apparently. That fact wasn't shocking, considering the death of William Byrne. It was a lot to take in, though, as she saw the elven-looking twins sprint away to reveal a man who must be Billy's son. He'd greeted Oriana, but before she could respond Brigitte had interjected.

"Um... hi?"

Oriana gave the boy a small, sarcastic smile.

"Your mother was more of the 'cookie-sheet girl'. I mostly just got hit with it."

And then Brigitte was leading them along again, this time down a set of basement stairs. Seemed like a nice enough lair. Oriana flashed a predatory smile as the lights came on and revealed the supplies. 

"Welcome to the candy store.  You heard my mom, lady's choice.  Take your pick of anything you think you might need and while you're shopping you can tell me where you got that coat my sister stole from you.  It was pretty amazing.  I bet you could hide a damn sword under a jacket like that. Not that we have swords... here at least."

"Was pretty amazing? Did something happen to my coat? Or did you borrow it to wear? And I've got a couple places in the Garment district I like. When I'm not working, training, or sleeping, I'm usually shopping..."

She wasn't paying attention as much to the conversation as the guns she was tracing her fingers over.

"Might as well take more than we need. Mostly concealable stuff, but body armor, longer range rifles, and explosives just in case. Ammo. Lots of ammo. Climbing equipment. Lockpicking stuff- and anything else standard for an infiltration."

Oriana glanced at Brigitte, not insulting, but curious.

"Why are you coming with us? My understanding was that you'd never been much of a fighter."

She aimed a rifle across the room, checking the sights.

"Fighter?  I was six the first time I shanked a guy."  she shrugged.  "In fairness though I was trying to escape my kidnappers and I had only a rusty nail to fight them off with.  I had only just started training and honestly, it wasn't long after that when all my training came to a very abrupt halt."

She sauntered up to Oriana, touching the gun Oriana was fussing with, her eyes intently locked on hers.  "My mother always promised she'd teach me."

Her words were spoken like honey drizzling off the wand and twice as sweet,  "And I wanted to learn, I was an eager student... I wanted to be just like her one day.  A beautiful woman... powerful... dangerous..."

Brigitte tried to lift the money clip, it was coming up smooth as silk over silk at first but something snagged - it didn't seem Oriana noticed and so she kept trying.  Damn front pockets!  It was so much harder to lift a thing from someone who kept their items in front tight pockets!

And how much shanking have you done since? Still, she admired the way the blonde brazenly strolled up to her and ran her finger along Oriana's rifle. If Ori had been a man, she might have shot it.  

Suddenly, Oriana felt a hand in her pocket, but she masked it well.

"But you just couldn't keep your hands out of other peoples' pants, huh?"

"But you just couldn't keep your hands out of other peoples' pants, huh?"

Brigitte smirks and she lifts her hand out of the pocket and leaves behind the item she was pulling.

"Well, you can't blame a girl for trying... and you're very observant. Good eyes... lovely eyes."  Brigitte laughs.

"My eyes have had a lot of practice. More than your hands, it seems."

Brigitte shrugged and took a step back. "Mom laid off the 'find a treasure' game a long time ago. I've had few enough chances to keep practicing - though, I admit, I did. Most folks never notice my fingers at work and those who do... generally don't complain."

"Finding a different sort of treasure, then? I'm sure your parents love that."

Brigitte smirks, "What dad doesn't know won't hurt my many good friends.  Though I can't help but thinking that both sets of skills might be the reason for me coming along... why else send me? Honestly, I'm as shocked as you that I'm being invited along and not Tara especially considering recent developments."

"You seem to be particularly proud of your skillset in that area."

Brigitte nods, "I am proud, and why shouldn't I be? A girl should know what she's capable of doing well."

"Yep. Great plan. Your father, obviously, is a Master strategist."

Ori mock recaps.

"And then, when faced with a squad of rifleman.... our specialist jacked through them all until they collapsed in a contented heap."

Brigitte laughs. "Are you threatened by my coming along?"

"You coming along is absolutely a threat to me."

"You're ... something." Her eyes sparkle mischievously.

"You're gorgeous. Have some talent. Seem to be aware of both those things. But if I have to worry about you in combat... you could do more damage than a bad guy."

Brigitte rolls her eyes, "I'll flash my perfect set of tits.. blind them all with lust and you can run away. Rest assured I'll save the day when the chips are down."

Ori raises an eyebrow, glancing at the tits in question.  "Don't seem bulletproof to me."

"You'd have to be very close to notice... of course that's not every girl's cup of tea."

"But you're right. Lack of combat experience paired with wild overconfidence is definitely the perfect mix."

"That and... I'm not sure I want you that close. Could I interest you maybe in a nice hot shower, some fresh clothing and a brush for your hair... I like my partners dirty but there are lines even for me. I have some shampoo you can use. Smells of honeysuckle."

Ori checks the rifle sight again.

"Not into flowery scents? Maybe something else... I'm sure Tara has something we can use. Neutral and uninteresting."

"I suppose I do need to shower. Three days in the woods. If they can smell me coming, I'll be just as much of a liability as you."

"There's the spirit! We'll get you all cleaned up and you can watch my ass properly. Once you save my life a few times we'll be great friends."

"I'm paralyzed with joy."

Ori sighs and puts down the rifle.

"Excellent. Well pick out your toys... and then we'll ascend the stairs and I'll show you where you can scrape off three days of nasty and slip into something more comfortable."

"I don't have a change of clothes with me. Maybe grab some sort your Mom's old stuff? Anything she wore before she kids might... although she is shorter."

Again Brigitte looks her up and down pointedly, lingering on her hips a moment longer than polite. "You're about my size. Thinner in the hips perhaps, but I won't hold that against you. I'll get you something of mine."

"Fine. I guess that makes sense."

Brigitte nods. "Dark colors I'm guessing, practical. Nothing stylish. It'll be hard for me to find something to that order... but I'll see what I can manage."

"Pants. Blouse. Both black. Or as close as you can get."

"I've got you covered." She begins walking towards the stairs. "Just knock when you want out. Then come up the stairs. Third door on the right. I'll put the clothes on the bed for you."

"I can't carry everything I need. I'll come back later with a bunch of guards, if that works."

Brigitte shrugs. "Put it in a pile in the center of the room or something. We'll ask Carlin to have someone come fetch it and take it to Patches for loading on the plane."

Ori nods and watches Brigitte walk up the stairs for a few moments before shouting, "Try to keep your hands out of everyone's pants, huh?!" At least one guard coughs. Oriana smirks.

As the room plunged into silence Aurora’s eyes went back to the knife, “If you’d found it as a girl, you would have brought it to me.  You wouldn’t have kept it hidden unless… unless you’d known I didn’t accidentally lose it?”

Tara sighed.

Aurora pulled the knife out of her desk.  “How much did you hear?”

Tara looked at the floor.  “All the parts you wish I didn’t.”

Aurora’s brow furrowed.  “I was… hurting, I…”

“I know.”  Tara offered gently.

“I was drunk… too drunk.  I hadn’t worked through my pain.  Everything I said was said by a child still struggling to understand all the parts of herself …” She looked up to Tara.  “Please tell me you know that I don’t really feel any of those things.”

Not looking at her mother’s eyes she said, “I know you don’t.”

Aurora reached across the desk and took Tara’s hand.  Their eyes met.  “I mean it Tara.  I love you.  I was just lost – so very lost,”  Tara’s dream came back to her then, her mother’s words about her life experience seemed to echo her grandfather’s, “… but I found myself again, Tara.  You and your brothers and sisters… your father… our family, it saved me.”

Tears welled up in Tara’s eyes.

“I felt like everything had been stolen away, buried with the dead, and that I would never be happy again.  It had been years of looking backward and not seeing what I had right in front of me; but all of you showed me that neither I, nor my happiness, had really died with my parents and friends.  I am not defined by the people who came before me or the society we choose to live in; but it was only after I felt that I’d lost everything that I began to really find myself, Tara. I can only hope you will forgive me for what you heard that night.”

“I do.  I forgive you.”  Tara said softly.

“You can’t say it like that, Tara.  It’s not something you have to say because it’s expected… please… what can I do to prove it to you?”

“I wanted you to have the knife for two reasons.  The first is so you can have it with you when you kill Giancarlo.  He took your father from you and he took Uncle William and Uncle Volkov… you should have a piece of your father’s life with you when you finally finish him off.”

Aurora nodded letting Tara’s hand go.

“The second is because I had a dream about Grandpa Gavin while I was out in the woods with Ori.”

“You went to the woods?”

Tara nodded and continued, “He told me I think too much and upon reflection there are times that maybe I do think too much.  I’m always worried about the outcomes, always trying to find the best way to make things fall.  I don’t want to let people down.  I don’t want who I love to suffer.”

Aurora looked down, realizing that Tara had carried a heavy burden with her for many years now and done so silently, dutifully, and only now did Rora really see that there was a rift between them.  There had been space between them for longer than just the recent weeks since their return to the United States, it had been there since Tara was just a girl.

“I’m not what you think I am.  I’m not going to get married and have children the way you’re hoping we all will.”

“Tara none of that matters now…”

“It matters to me so please let me finish.”  Tara snapped.

Aurora closed her lips.

“It’s hard to disappoint you.  I’ve studied hard to be the smartest kid I could be, trained every day to make sure I was every bit as strong and fit as you hoped for, I learned all the arts of the woods so that I could help and be less of a burden and…”  She shook her head.  “It was never enough for me to feel like it made up for just… being here.”

Aurora’s eyes welled up with tears.

“I know that you’re happy as a mom.  I know you don’t regret having us … at least not now.”

“Tara…”  Aurora smothered her sob with her free hand, the other still clutching her knife.

“And maybe sometimes you still wonder about what life would have been like if you’d made different choices … everyone does that … but I know you’re glad for where you ended up.”

Aurora nodded trying to tell Tara, without interrupting that she was right.

“But I need you to know that while I can make myself a woodsman and a hunter, and I can have a hundred degrees in every subject under the sun, hell maybe even become a Godfather one day…”  Aurora could see the pain etched on Tara’s face.  It was a terrible thing to watch your children suffering.  Worse to know you had a hand in it.  “I… I can’t make myself be someone I’m not.”

Aurora came around the desk and without a word pulled Tara into her arms, an iron grip from which Tara would not be released until Aurora was damn good and ready.  She kissed the top of Tara’s head.  “Stop.”  Aurora insisted.  “Just… stop.  I know and it’s not all that you are.  I love all parts of you Tara Mastrosimone.  All of it.”

“You don’t understand… I won’t get married, I won’t have children…”

“Shh.”  Aurora countered.  “You don’t think I know?  You really don’t think the woman who you grew inside… the woman who gave to you all the best of herself… doesn’t know?”

Tara looked up at her mom and in disbelief sobbed, “But… how?”

“Some things can’t be learned from books, they can only be felt.”  She brushed a tear from Tara’s cheek with her thumb, “I wish I had been paying closer attention sooner. I promise you I won’t make the same mistake twice.  You see… even now I’m still learning.”

Tara hugged her mom tighter.  “Please … take care of Ori … I … care about her, Mom & she’s hurting too.  Like you were.  Still figuring herself out.”

Aurora nodded and kissed the top of Tara’s head, “She’s coming home, Squirt, I promise you.” 

Four suits of body armor. A half dozen rilfles, three scoped and three without. A dozen pistols, half of them equipped with the latest model Maxim Silencers. Grenades. TNT. Ammo. Climbing equipment. Lockpicking tools. It was a good haul, and Oriana was sweating by the time she'd dragged it all to the center. That shower was sounding better and better. Trudging up the stairs, she banged on the metal door. A guard quickly opened it to let her out, and she found herself following Brigitte's directions.

Brigitte. Shit. What a piece of work that one was. A succubus, at worst. A shameless flirt, at best. If she'd thought to throw off Oriana by embarrassing her, at least the blonde had learned her lesson. Someone like her just needed to handled with a strong hand. Smirking, Oriana walked through the unlocked door that Brigitte had indicated. 

The picture hanging on the wall was a recent family portrait, so it must belong to one of them. A quick glance around showed that this room didn't belong to a boy. Either Brigitte's room or Tara's then, and there didn't seem to be enough makeup and hair products to be Brigitte. Tara's room, then. Oriana strolled around for a bit with her hands on her hips, curious but refraining from opening or moving anything around. There wasn't much to look at; after all, they'd just moved in.

Completing a quick circuit of the room, Oriana saw a pile of black clothing on the bed that must be from Brigitte. Safe inside the compound, she removed her gunbelt and left it near the bottom of the bed before glancing up again at the black pile. Well, she was doomed to wear whatever the girl had brought; Oriana's current outfit was probably better off being burned than washed. With a resigned sigh of acceptance, Oriana ignored the clothes from Brigitte for now and walked into the bathroom. 

It was nice, about as ornate as Oriana had expected from the obvious wealth of the household. Not too flashy, though. 

As she removed her clothes, which were stiff and salty from three days of dirt and sweat and sun, she felt like a snake shedding her skin. The knives and ankle holster got rinsed off quickly in the sink and dried, then left on the bathroom counter. As she removed her shirt, Oriana caught herself looking at the vertical scar above her navel, courtesy of Aurora. Funny how things worked out sometime. Her pants seemed like they could stand up on their own, and she tossed the last scraps of her clothing directly in the trashcan. Turning on the extra set of lights, Oriana checked herself for bug bites. If there had been any ticks or leeches or- nope, she was clean. Sighing with relief, she turned to the shower. It took two minutes and lots of cursing to find a temperature between ice-cold and scalding on the unfamiliar faucet, but eventually Oriana succeeded. 

Then she walked into heaven. After three days without a real bath or shower, the strangeness of the hot water made her feel like she was floating. She turned up the temperature as she acclimated to the heat, filling the bathroom with steam. God, she was tempted to take a bath, but she knew she'd fall asleep- and the Mastrosimones having to track her down didn't seem like a great start to the mission. She washed her hair three times, using whatever products Tara had. She also used half the bar of soap to scrub every inch of her skin three times over. Shen she finally felt clean, she replaced everything she'd used and tried to get the dirt on the bottom of the bathtub mostly down the drain.

Finally clean, Ori leaned over and let the water strike between her shoulder-blades. She could hear the laughter in her mind: a dozen girls who'd finished a hard day of training, laughing and throwing soap at each other because they had all night to themselves. Ghosts now. Some on jobs. One, at least, by Francesco. Four by Ori's own hand- five if you counted Lucia, who died for her. Viola and Serena might be out there somewhere- might still be with Francesco. The thought made her blood boil for a moment before she buried it. Some days, she wished she could catch up with Viola and Serena. They'd been her team, back in the day. Perhaps that's why they'd survived, when the others hadn't. Ori had pushed them hard, trained them well. She'd always been close with Viola. Serena had been an asshole- but her asshole. Fuck. Every time she thought about seeing them again, she had to remind herself they'd probably try to kill her again. And they deserved death, for what they'd helped do at the orphanage. 

Maybe the thing to do was build a new team: a new group of people to lean on, to trust. Tara. Brigitte. The other kids, maybe. 

Or maybe it was just the pipe dream of a woman desperate to recreate the only family she'd ever known. 

Christ, how long had been in here? Did the hot water really start to die or was that just her imagination? Ori turned the faucet off and her skin immediate broke into gooseflesh. She toweled off and wrapped it around herself before picking up at hair-dryer and starting to work on her hair. Finally satisfied, she headed out toward the bed. She started to rifle through the clothes that Brigitte had left there when she realized that the blonde had neglected something important- nope, there it was... even if it barely existed.

She was holding up the g-string and thinking of a way to get her revenge when she heard the door open. Dropping the clothing back into the pile of black clothes, Ori reached for her revolver and had it pointed at the door when Tara walked in. She raised the gun's barrel immediately, not really expected trouble in such a well-defended place. Then again, Tara, whose red eyes suggested she was already emotional about something,  didn't seem to have expected Oriana to be wearing a towel. She'd started to stammer an apology when Ori raised a hand to stop her.

"Brigitte told me you were waiting for-"

"I'm sure she did. That sister of yours is really something. Just give me five minutes."

Tara nodded as Oriana slid her gun back into its holster and grabbed the whole pile of clothes. She got dressed as best she could, eventually settling on a pair of slim, form-fitting black pants and a navy blue blouse. After running a comb through her hair a few times, she tied it up behind her head and returned to the bedroom, where she wiped down her gunbelt and spoke to Tara.

"Sorry. I kind of spaced out in there."

"It's fine. We've all got a lot to think about."

Tara paused before she said, "I gave my mom the knife."

"I'm sure she liked that."

"She did. We had... a really good talk."

"I'm glad." Good closure if anything happens to her, thought Oriana, not that I'd say it out loud. "Seems like you'll be stepping up for this one."

"... yea."

"You'll be great, Tiger. Just don't tell anyone your nickname." Tara's smile didn't feel entirely forced. "Your mom and Brigitte and I will be back before you know it."

Finishing wiping down the gunbelt, Ori strapped it on and shifted her hips as if to adjust it. With a sigh, she tucked her thumbs in the belt.

"I'd better go. Don't want to keep your Mom waiting. Any idea when we're taking off? We can walk and talk, if you want. But I won't begrudge you jumping in the shower if you want to. I feel like a new person. Might've killed the hot water, though."

Ori shrugged, smirking. Her mind was already starting to turn to the mission.

"And do you think I should talk to your father before we leave?"

"Dad is in the kitchen with my cousin Malcolm.  He's William and Angie's boy."  Tara's face dropped a little, growing sad, thinking about what the kid had been through.  "He was there today when their car blew up and Uncle Volkov took him to the train station so I don't know how much he saw of his final moments.  I just.. the poor kid isn't talking to anyone.  Not sure how much you want to see of my father trying his best to make a broken-hearted little boy smile... might ruin his big angry 'I'll torture you' vibe for you."  Tara smirked, clearly trying to be a little funny.

Ori frowned. "If I'm being honest, I have a lot more practice with torture. But I suppose I should at least check in with him since he's the man in charge."

"Mom's in her room."  She nodded towards her mom and dad's room down at the end of the hall.  "She's finishing up getting ready I think.  While you talk to Dad I'm ... gonna go find and kill my sister."  She shook her head.  "I'm sorry you have to put up with her for the whole trip but if you have shiny things to throw at her, she tends to get distracted like a magpie.  So, that's a good way to get her off your back, speaking from experience."

Tara wanted to tell her that she was going to be worried about her & that she wanted her to come back safely.  Hell, if she was being honest her grandfather was dramatically screaming in her head 'DO' like a crazy man, desperate for her to listen but Tara was scared to death of doing anything of the sort.  Rejection, at this moment, would have ended her whole existence.  She was sure she'd just crawl under a rock and never come out again.

"Kick some ass, and come back, okay?  I don't have many friends and I'll be pretty disappointed if I had to start all over on this training business with some other bad ass.  Just easier to keep the one I got rather than to go through all that witty banter and rapport building all over again."  

"My only worry about Brigitte is that she'll compromise us in a combat situation," said Ori. "Other than that, I can handle her just find. I grew up with a dozen other girls. Brigitte doesn't have anything I haven't dealt with before."

"Kick some ass, and come back, okay?  I don't have many friends and I'll be pretty disappointed if I had to start all over on this training business with some other bad ass.  Just easier to keep the one I got rather than to go through all that witty banter and rapport building all over again.

"I'll be fine, Tara. You be careful here as well. Do as much planning, coordinating, and strategy as you can handle, but stay out of the action. I'm good, but a couple days with me doesn't turn you into a pro. Play it safe."

She checked her guns one last time. 

"Not sure how we're going to be, but keep practice if you can. If you're worried about the noise, your parents have a few silencers in the basement. Don't hurt your ears by shooting inside."

Ori tucked her thumbs into her belt and sighed.

"Never thought I'd be going back so quickly."

She wasn't sure how to end the conversation; her last statement hung in the air. The months Ori had spent alone and the loss of her "sisters" had left her in an awkward place when it came to engaging with others. But Tara had said it herself; they were friends. Ori tried to channel some positive fragment of her younger self as she walked over and gave Tara a brisk hug and a pat on the back.

"Bye, Tara."

Then she was out the door, heading to go find Billy. 

"You bitch!"  Tara slammed the door behind her.

"I hear you saying bitch, but I'm pretty sure the word you meant to say was 'Angel' ..."  Brigitte snapped her suitcase shut.

"She was showering!"

"And..."  Brigitte turned, "Did you get a peek?"

"I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU!"  Tara's face was fire engine red.

"Oh... you did!"  Brigitte plopped onto the side of her bed and patted it.  "Dish!"

Tara crossed her arms and didn't move.  "Nothing happened!"

Brigitte frowned, "Well that's highly disappointing."

"I told you I don't even know if she likes women."  Tara scowled.

Brigitte smirked, "Well... I don't know how you spent nights with her and couldn't figure it out, but take it from me... she likes women."

Tara's mouth fell open, "Did ... did you ask her?!?"

Brigitte shook her head, "Goodness no.  I'm not going to out you like that."

Tara sighed.  "Thank you."

"I just flirted with her."

"You..."

"Relax."  She waved a hand dismissively.  "I'm not her type.  I think she's more into boring, bookish, and unglamourous short girls with no sense of style.  Besides, I think we both know what type I go for."

"Mookish Men."  Tara rolled her eyes.  "Thank god for small miracles, but you gotta promise not to keep flirting with her.  I mean... just cause you don't have any interest in her doesn't mean she doesn't fall for you and then..."

Brigitte stood up and walked over to Tara, "I know you don't put much stock in what I have to say most of the time and about most things, but I'm pretty sure you believe me when it comes to relationships so here's my thoughts on that..." She kissed Tara's forehead, "If it's meant to be, it will be.  Just be yourself Tara and stop worrying about what she's doing and with whom.  Honestly, most people date half a dozen or more folks before finding Mr. or Ms. Right.  It's normal.  If Oriana has six girlfriends before she figures out that the perfect girl has been standing next to her all along... what does it matter?  In the end, it's not the one you come to the dance with, it's who you take home."

"You say that... but I don't know.  I don't think I could handle thinking about another woman with Oriana." 

"Well, Kiddo, you either need to find your inner courage and make a move... or just accept that you might be waiting a while.  A girl like her is bound to have some... let's call them adventures before she settles down."

"Why would you say something like that?!?"

"Honesty is a gift we give?"  She shrugged.  "She's got a very Grandpa Gavin vibe to her; you know rugged, damaged, but a decent person in truth.  Grandpa Gavin was the sweetest guy in the world, Tara, and trust me when I say this - he would be saying the same thing I'm telling you.  Just.  Be.  Yourself.  Everything else will come and if it doesn't... then you'll find someone else."

"I still can't believe they're taking you with them."  Tara sighed.  "But I'm happy for you."

"Was wondering if you told Mom about my tirade if I'm being honest."  Brigitte picked up her suitcase.  Tara just shook her head 'no' in response.  "Well, good.  That means this is something else entirely then."

Brigitte stopped to hug her sister at the door and Tara hugged her back.

"Take care of Papa... I know how he'll worry."

"Take care of Mom... she's gonna have tunnel vision.  It's up to you to keep her head in the future, not the past."  

Brigitte nodded and pulled back to smile at Tara reassuringly.

"As for Ori," Tara inserted, "Don't take care of her, in fact, just leave her be if you can help it."

Brigitte smirked, "We never did get to do that classic sisters thing... fighting over a guy."

Tara shook her head, "And we never will.  I saw her first."

Brigitte chuckled.  "You can't dibs on a person."

"I just did."  Tara asserted.

"Well, I guess that's it then... I can't break dibs.  It's like a law or something... almost sacred."  Brigitte walked over and opened her bedroom door.

"And take care of yourself too,"  Tara added.

"I always do."  Brigitte gave her sister a wink and disappeared into the hallway wearing a bright smile.  At long last, she was going to be on a mission with her mother like she always dreamed and in her opinion there had never been a more important one than this one.  Finally, she was going to see the bastard responsible for taking her beloved grandfather from her pay for his crimes.

Billy looked up from his desk as Oriana stepped into the room.

"Oh good, you're here. Close the door."

He waited until the door was, in fact, closed before he continued.

"I am going to assume my wife or my daughter have told you pretty much everything you need to know. I know you're a trained assassin, so I don't need to explain to you how dangerous any of this is. My wife is going to go kill a man, but she can't do it by herself, so you, the trained assassin, are going to help her. My daughter is going with you as an information gatherer, and to help keep her mother focused."

He sighed and put the papers down onto his desk, there was something of a ship's manifest on there, but it was labeled for Boston, not New York harbor.

"My Tara put in a good word for you, I hope you know that. In fact she asked me to be nice. Well me being nice normally constitutes a hug, but you don't seem the hugging type. No offense meant." He smiled and continued as he pulled out a notepad. "You already know about Tesauro Mari, he's going to be the man that Brigitte flirts with in the city. But there are a couple of others that I've been able to gather some information on that might be helpful."

He slid the notepad over, open to a page with only two names and a few notes.

Stefano Govoni - Equivalent to a Senator in Italian Government, corrupt, keeps cops and govt. from looking too deeply at Venice.

Ansovino Mattaranzi - Nephew and last surviving blood-relation to the Godfather, not well known, very well hidden. May be leverage (DO NOT KILL).

Billy watched as Oriana read the notes and then when she looked up.

"Questions?" 

Oriana closed the door behind her and listened to the head of the Mastrosimone family. 

"I am going to assume my wife or my daughter have told you pretty much everything you need to know. I know you're a trained assassin, so I don't need to explain to you how dangerous any of this is. My wife is going to go kill a man, but she can't do it by herself, so you, the trained assassin, are going to help her. My daughter is going with you as an information gatherer, and to help keep her mother focused."

"You know your people better, Don Mastrosimone. Mari knows my face, so I won't deny that having Brigitte there might prove useful. She would, however, be a liability in a combat situation. Your wife and I, fighting together, can do a great deal of damage- but our effectiveness is limited if we have to worry about Brigitte. I'm the hired help here, and I'm not questioning your decision in the slightest- but I might advise that you have a private flight ready for her to leave the city. People you trust, who can't be bought. Tara told me that this is mostly about revenge for Mattaranzi losing his own daughter. If he gets yours..."

She let the sentence trail off; she'd made her point.

"I'll have to thank Tara for putting in a good word for me; you're right, though, in that I'm not the hugging type."

Oriana studied the notepad that Billy had given to her. Govoni seemed standard.

"Didn't know he had a nephew. Could be good leverage, as you say, which is why you want to take him alive... makes sense."

"If you have no further orders or instructions for me, I have no questions. I understand that I crossed paths with your family in a strange way, but when I have a mission I complete it."

Previously, your wife has handed me a blank check; I assume you'll all be just as generous for this, as well.

Billy nodded.

"Brigitte has her orders and she will follow them, I'm sure of it. She won't leave the country until she has her mother though. That being said, she's not dumb enough to try and fight alongside you. She knows her role in this."

He then turned the notepad back and slipped it away again.

"Miss Montini, if you understand what I'm about to tell you, then you will understand how imperative it is that my wife come home." He took a silence and let the clock on the wall tick loudly for a few seconds before leveling his gaze at the woman across from him. He studied her as best he could in those few seconds. Tara was right about a lot of things, she was wrong about one or two.

"With your shield, or on it."

And with that, he gestured to the door.

Oriana couldn't hide her frown. Even if Brigitte wasn't fighting, Oriana didn't like the idea of the blonde cowering in a hotel room by herself. Still, she wasn't the boss.

"With your shield, or on it."

She studied Billy carefully. 

"I'm not a Spartan, Mr. Mastrosimone. I don't believe in honor. But I'll come back with your wife and daughter."

Oriana stood, bowing her head respectfully and moving toward the door, where she glanced back at Mr. Mastrosimone. The man, perhaps, had more of an education than she'd suspected.

"Iacta alea est.... let's hope we get lucky."

Rora closed her bag and then her eyes listening to the sounds of a house full of people, her children laughing and yelling at each other, and her husband noisily clanging around in the kitchen.  The house was alive in all the ways that Hollowpoint had once been and it occurred to her then that if she did not come back from this trip, her life would have been as well-lived as she could possibly have managed... just as her mother's had been. 

She'd not just done well for herself, but she had done well for her children and the grandchildren she had hoped to see one day - God willing.  Now, all that remained was to close the books on this enemy - not out of revenge for Gavin though she wanted it... and not out of revenge for Will and Volkov, though the asshole richly deserved it.  No.  She was going to Italy for the only reason that ever mattered and ever would matter.  It was the last thing on both her parents' lips and it would be the last thing on her own.

Family.

All that remained now was to make sure that no matter what happened next, she gave them all as good a chance as she could at thriving without her - just in case.  She'd given the keys to the Luciano-Byrne empire to Tara... apt hands to handle it.  Though he would not find them yet, she'd left a locked box in Gavin's room with her pearl-handled M1911s only minutes ago and taken the black guns from Billy's box.  Her life, having come full circle from the first time they were used until now... the last time they would ever be used.

She could not know what futures the twins would have and so she could only leave them tokens... small things that she hoped they would treasure on their paths to whatever lay ahead of them.  For Jack, she left the deck of playing cards she'd found in Gavin's things when he'd passed.  For Isabella, her mother's locket which Will had given to her the day she had died which held baby photos of she and Will.  One to remind them to continue to have fun & take chances, the other a sobering reminder that family was at the heart of everything that mattered.

Billy's decision to send Brigitte had made her so angry she could spit... it meant that if she died, her daughter would die with her most likely or that she would forever carry the guilt of not having saved her... the same way Will felt about their mom.  There was nothing to be done for that now.  She just prayed that what tools she'd given to the girl through her life, combined with her own natural resilience, would make her the survivor that Rora herself was.  God, send that it was so.

All that remained now was the hardest part... the one she'd left for last.

Dear Billy,

I wish there was time to make you a recording so you could hear my voice, the way my father was able to hear my mother's... but there's not. I find myself, in this quiet moment before I leave for Italy, listening to our house alive with the voices of our children and the promises of a future yet to come.  I am thinking about my own mortality and knowing I can not go to face this in denial of the truth.  The basic most difficult truth in life to accept:  I will, someday, die.  

To be clear, I do intend to use everything at my disposal to die old and in my bed and with our great-grandchildren all around me... but we both know the likelihood of that is slim at best and so this letter must serve as my final words to you in the event I do not return home as we both hope and plan for.

The first, last and only truth you need is this one:  I have never loved anyone as deeply, truly, and completely as I have loved you and it has been the great victory of my life to have been your wife, your hand, and the mother of your children.  I have left nothing undone.  I have lived as completely as possible.  I had a childhood of laughter free of worries and fear, I was a young adult who faced adversity and overcame again and again - surviving so much that took our peers from this world, and I have spent the fullness of this part of my life on an adventure with you doing what Mastrosimones do... taking broken things and making them good again. 

Business. 

People.

We have worked hard to make children who will carry on with that legacy after us.  I have, as best I was able, left this world better than I found it and I look to the end knowing that I will face God without regrets and in the certainty that my faith and good works will grant me a place there waiting for you.

Do not disappoint me.  Do not fail to join me in Heaven when your time is done, Billy.  Work hard.  Finish what we started.  Kings County United is the last thing we began together, leave a legacy behind worthy of us both.  Do good.  Be good.  Be better.

Love our children as fiercely as two parents for every hug you give them are from me too.  Every forgiveness you grant them, know I've urged you to it (especially when you don't want to forgive them their faults.)  

And though you do not want to hear it now, know that I give you my blessing (as I gave my father) to love and be happy in these years we must be apart.  I have only ever wanted your happiness.  If you choose misery instead, know that I am suffering too.  Today you won't like that I've written those words because you can't imagine a day when it won't hurt... but when the moment comes that you find some spark of life again (when the thought of me won't cause your breath to catch in pain anymore) don't hate yourself for feeling it.  Instead, know that I'm smirking at you, making some dirty joke, and daring you to do what you don't think you can bear to do.

I have to go now.  We'll see each other again someday soon.  Either here, or in heaven.  No matter where I'll be loving you - My Godfather.  My Husand. The Light of My Eyes. My Bull. My Billy.

-Roar