“Now, why d’ya have to go and do that, brother?” Mickey stood up and looked over the bank’s counter.
“She were lookin’ at me funny.” Finn stood beside the dead woman holding his smoking revolver at his side, her brains spilling out onto the floor. “Any of you fuckers try anythin’, you’ll get the same fuckin’ treatment, fuckin’ hear me?” He screamed at the rest of the hostages in his thick Irish accent before tilting his head back at his brother and smiling.
“Look, Finn, didn’t we agree no killin’ on this one?” Mickey went back to stuffing the duffle bag with dollar bills, the group of hostages on the floor all crying and whimpering. “Now come on, look, I promise ‘ya he won’t do that to anyone else, just calm down will ‘ya now?”
“Fuck that! I might? Another one of these cocksuckers gives me the eye again and they’re gettin’ a bullet I fuckin’ tell ‘ya!” Finn stomped through the bank swinging his revolver around the room, the customers burying their faces into the burgundy carpet.
“Mickey!” A regulation police voice shouted from outside. “Mickey, we have the negotiator here, he’s willing to talk terms, we can figure a way out of this.”
“Oh fuck ‘em, Mickey,” Finn shook his gun at the window. “Fuck them, and why do the fuckin’ cops always want to talk to you and no’ me, eh?” He turned back to his brother, still holding his gun upright. “Why the fuck can’t I do the talkin’ for a change?”
“Finn, point that fuckin’ gun somewhere else and calm the fuck down, will ‘ye?”
“Fuck this, I wanna talk to the fuckin’ police this time.” He turned around and started towards the door, swinging his gun around at the hostages, as Mickey jumped over the counter to try and grab him.
“Look here all ‘ye fuckin’ cops!” Finn kicked through the entrance, gun and jaw held high taking a step into the parking lot, looking around at the myriad of lights spinning and adding a blue and red haze to the dawn light. “You know how many fuckin’ people we got in this bank, you fuckin’ back off or I fuckin kill the lot of ‘em!” He smiled at them, tilted his head again and turned to his brother, nodding.
Mickey leapt as the bullets rained. Finn’s face exploded forwards as the high-velocity rounds from the sniper rifles blew through the back of his skull and coated Mickey with the paste of his brother’s brains.
“Finn!” The cop’s voice shouted as the gunfire settled. “You don’t have to go out the same way too. Surrender now, we’ll go easy on you!”
He lifted his hands slowly off his head and rolled onto his side, his brother’s disintegrated face beside his. “Do or die, brother, do or die.” He muttered to himself as he rose to his feet, grabbing his brother’s gun out of his dead hand, raising both revolvers and stepped forward into the dawn light.