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When he cut the call, and Declan immediately rang, I grunted, shut off my phone, then turned my focus onto the Lenisters.
Knowing who they were, any guilt I could have felt at taking them out dispersed some. Handlers could bullshit with the best of them, but there was a logic in what he was saying.
It was one thing when the marks appeared to be peaceful hippies, but ECD foot soldiers? Those assholes had a special place in hell reserved for them.
For myself, I was honored to deliver them to the Devil’s waiting room.
Suddenly, the hours-long wait I had ahead of me, all while it drizzled, wasn’t that much of a chore.
Finn:How’s Ireland?
Eoghan:Rainy.
Finn:Lol. I thought that was what you wanted.
Eoghan:It was.
Finn:So the honeymoon is going well?
Eoghan:It is. The plan went awry. Inessa insisted on us seeing some sights, but it’s all good.
Eoghan:Out of curiosity, do you know why Declan keeps calling me?
Finn:No. Maybe answer the phone and you’ll find out?
Eoghan:If I answer the phone, then I have to deal with whatever crap he wants to offload onto my shoulders.
Finn:True. Want me to find out what’s going on?
Finn:In fact, don’t worry about it. Whatever he needs you for, I’ll handle it.
Eoghan:You sure?
Finn:I’m sure.
Eoghan:He won’t be calling me for anything pleasant, Finn.
Finn:I know. I said I’ll handle it. What are brothers for?
Eoghan:Appreciate that.
Finn:No problem.
Eoghan:I mean it—thank you.
Finn:You know what we talked about before you left?
Eoghan:The James Bond shit?
Finn:Yeah.
Eoghan:What about it?
Finn:You did the job?
Eoghan:I did.
Finn:You okay?
Eoghan:Stopped crying after missions when I was a kid, Finn. If that’s what you’re asking?
Finn:No. Never mind. Speak later and enjoy the rest of your honeymoon.
Eoghan:Thanks, bro.
