"No one. Anthony was on guard duty but he's out cold now Eoghan's treated his kneecaps to some pampering."
"He kneecapped him?" Savvie blurted out. "Fuck, and I missed it!"
Declan chuckled. "You're sick, Savvie."
"Watch it," I groused.
"Nah, there's no denying that I've got a skewed moral compass," was my wife's response. "Plus, I'm telling you, I will stab one of these fuckers in the eye. There were two of them who brought us here. Did you get the second guy?"
"Jonesy left for Hell's Kitchen as we infiltrated—"
"Jonesy," she shrieked. "That piece of shit betrayed the Five Points and then betrayedustoo? What's he going to do as a hat trick?"
I had an idea... not that I was going to say it yet.
But the fuckers behind this ridiculous plot had made a massive mistake—taking me was one thing. Taking Savannah was another.
They'd rue the day they were fucking born for bringing her into this.
"The docks are empty?" I demanded, needing that reassurance before I could start to plan.
"They are. Hell, the whole place is a ghost town. But Conor got into the office; the boats are going out at four."
"So we're alone until then?"
"Or until Jonesy returns. We have no way of knowing when that might be."
"Are all of Da's detail in on this?"
"Conor says no. Their traces are showing the rest of them as being at home. He’s working on figuring out which man in your crew gave them a key to your car."
My mind joined the dots. "Connolly’s wife is Jonesy’s uncle’s great-niece."
"You guys need to spread out more, start marrying people who aren’t related," Savannah muttered.
"You’re preaching to the converted," Brennan retorted with a short laugh. "Apart from Dec here, of course."
"Fuck off."
I knew my brothers too well—they’d start bickering to help Savannah calm down, to help her relax, but we were in a hostile environment even if the place was currently unmanned.
That was when I heard the softest of noises beneath the usual city chaos, and the distinct creaking of some nearby gates.
"Conor says it's Lucas," Bren informed us.
"He's in your ear?" I asked.
"He is."
I held out a hand. "Give me the earpiece."
Brennan shrugged but did as I asked.
"Conor?"
"Oh, good, you're not dead."
"Not for another fifty fucking years at least," I told him.