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I drive us to the public admin building, parking several blocks away to keep the Nav out of sight. The building’s roughly in the center of our territory, and it’s conveniently deserted on Sundays. If I’d brought Brady with me, he’d probably have some master key with him, the way he has a key for goddamn everything.

But Finn has his own skill set. I gesture toward the locked door handle, and he gets to work. Bulky as he is, you wouldn’t expect him to be stealthy, but Finn excels at breaking and entering. Within minutes, he’s got the lock picked, and we’re inside the empty building.

We use the janitors’ access up to the roof. If I’d planned ahead, I would’ve brought binoculars. But as it is, we still have a decent view of the surrounding blocks. From here, we can see a good chunk of the patrol beat assigned to Connor and Rabbit.

Finn and I crouch behind the low lip of the roof’s edge. Then we wait.

I pull my black beanie down to cover my ears. It’s fucking cold for an outdoor stakeout. I scan the streets below, but there’s not much activity. A couple of dog walkers. The occasional car. Mrs. Callahan powerwalking with her ankle weights.

“There.” Finn jerks his chin toward a distant sidewalk, where Connor and Rabbit are walking like a couple of bundled-up goons. “Fuckin eejits,” Finn says. “We’re in perfect sniper position, and they’re not even gonna glance up.”

They walk casually enough, though Rabbit’s a little more obvious about swiveling his head to look around. I’m not sure Connor is looking around. From what we can see, he’s just a bored guy strolling along with his hands in his pockets.

“Lazy shit,” Finn grumbles, never a fan of any Muloney.

“Looks like that Rabbit kid’s doing okay, though.”

Finn grunts in minimal acknowledgment. We track the pair of recruits until they round a corner, disappearing behind a row of brick bungalows.

“What do we know about him?” I ask.

Finn takes a moment to get out his phone, and I try not to sigh with impatience. If I’d assigned Brady to be in charge of the recruits, he’d know everything about them off the top of his head. But I chose Finn. I know he’s more than capable when he applies himself.

As I wait, I struggle not to think about Brioni. I’m setting an example for Finn, which means I need to remain focused myself, to keep all of my responsibilities at the forefront of my mind. It’s a challenge that few men could handle. But I’ve been preparing for this my whole life.

“Rabbit Kitson.” Finn clears his throat, reading from his phone. “Played varsity soccer, graduated high school three years ago, odd jobs here and there, decent handyman, allergic to bee stings.”

“Bee stings?” I repeat. It’s interesting to note, if only because it’s a weakness.

“According to Peter.” Finn gestures to the notes on his phone. He should’ve verified all this information himself, but he’s only been in his new role for a day.

“What about the kid’s mam?” I ask. “He claimed she upped and left.”

“His story checks out.” Finn scrolls through Peter’s notes. “She left when he was fifteen, no contact since, died a few years ago. Rabbit may not be aware that she’s dead.” My brother glances up at me.

We’re both obviously thinking about Brioni. When her mam left, our whole family was there for her. We supported her as much as we could. But it still never felt like enough to me. Brioni’s devastation was so complete, no amount of family dinners could lessen her suffering. It didn’t matter how many nights I slept on her couch so she wouldn’t be alone in her house.

What Brioni needed was time. If I could’ve beaten the shit out of time to make it speed up, I would have. As it was, all I could do was be there for her as she discovered her own strength to heal.

I wonder how that Rabbit kid held up through his own ordeal. It could mean the making of a good soldier.

“How long ago did he join up?” I ask Finn. This time, he’s ready with the answer.

“Couple months ago. Before our recruiting push.”

“Did he seek us out, then?” If so, that’s a good indicator of a mole.

“No,” Finn says. “Peter and Gus found him drowning his sorrows at the pub. He crashed on Gus’s couch for a while before Peter set up house.”

“Gus has a soft spot?” I ask, surprised. I assigned him to guard Brioni because he’s one of our toughest men.

“I guess for Rabbit he does.”

“So the lad makes a good pity case.” I don’t like that. It’s too disarming. Finn grimaces with understanding.

“I’ll see if I can get my hands on some bee venom,” he says, and I feel my eyebrows shoot up. The threat of violence is Finn’s go-to, but this has an edge of cleverness to it, a departure from his usual brute force.

I’m impressed by my enforcer brother, and I clap him on the shoulder to tell him so. His mouth twitches as he tries to hide his grin. I keep my praise of my men spare. It’s more worth earning that way. And when I do give it, they’re that much prouder of themselves, that much more eager to work even harder for me.