A Requital of Gratitude

Chapter 3: Restitution and Revenge -Part 1

By Samuel

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In chapter three, Nicholas O’Bannon and his crew hit the Kansas City underworld where it hurts most, while securing Aunt Nellie’s safety.

Nightfall was settling in as Nick and his crew arrived in Concordia, pulling up to a weathered sign reading Motel Concordia. Anonymity was their primary currency, so Nick booked all eight rooms on the top floor for ten days under aliases, casually offhanding to the desk clerk that more associates would be joining them shortly.

Nick immediately gathered Declan, Casey, Keefe, and Rion in his suite to lay out the blueprint.

“Here’s the order of business,” Nick said, his voice quiet but commanding. “First, we find Aunt Nellie a safe and comfortable home where she can heal without a target on her back.” The men nodded in silent agreement.

“Second,” turning to Keefe and Rion, Nick continued, “You two are unknown faces in Kansas City. That said, without drawing an ounce of attention -I want you scouting the Irish Blue Street Boys; map their central hub, trace their daily routines, and pinpoint every weakness in their armor.”

“Consider it done,” Keefe replied without hesitation, Rion giving a firm nod beside him.

“Casey,” Nick said, locking eyes with his long-time lieutenant, “you fly back to New York first thing tomorrow morning. I need you to assemble at least six of our best men and bring them back in two vehicles loaded with enough firepower to fight a small war. Wait for my word before you make the drive back.”

“Got it,” Casey said.

“Declan and I will stay here to handle local logistics and get Aunt Nellie settled. Nick concluded, “Get some sleep, gentlemen. Tomorrow we move.”

The next morning, while Casey caught an early flight back to New York, Nick and Declan scoured the surrounding area for elder care facilities. They found what they needed at the Mary Usher Senior Living Home—a quiet, secure facility offering private one-bedroom suites, round-the-clock medical staff, and full meal service. Impressed by the facility’s security and discretion, Nick booked a suite immediately. He paid the first year’s lease in cash and arranged to continue future payments in cash.

Over the next two days, Nick and Declan furnished the suite. They stocked the kitchen and anything they thought Aunt Nellie would need, including a fifty-four-inch television in her living room. They figured Aunt Nellie could add her personal touches once she arrived.

Meanwhile, Keefe and Rion began their reconnaissance in Kansas City.

What they uncovered painted a grim picture. The Irish Blue Street Boys still operated out of their old riverfront warehouse, but their racket mutated into something far more vile. Beyond extortion and protection, they had expanded heavily into narcotics and human trafficking, snatching young boys and girls off the streets. Fear blanketed the city. Local precinct captains, civic leaders, and community elders were either on the gang’s payroll or too terrified to speak out.

At the center of it all was Pieter “Dutchy” DeVries. The hulking Dutchman had seized control of the syndicate after Fin’s disappearance. Paranoia governed his every move; haunted by what had happened to his predecessor, Dutchy never traveled without a six-man security detail split between two armored sedans. Three goons, including his driver, rode in his vehicle, while a secondary car trailed closely behind. They formed a tight, armed perimeter every time he stepped onto the pavement.

A week after their initial hospital visit, the doctor cleared Nellie for discharge. Nick and Declan arrived at the hospital, escorted her to a few local shops to pick out a new wardrobe, and brought her straight to her new home at the Mary Usher residence.

As soon as she entered her new suite, Nellie settled into a plush armchair while Nick and Declan squeezed onto the small sofa across from her. Smiling warmly, she got up to brew tea and offered the cookies sitting on the counter.

As she passed the teacups, Nellie looked at Nick with fond, inquisitive eyes. “Nicholas… are you married? Do you have children, or perhaps a young lady waiting for you back home?”

Nick caught himself off guard. “Aunt Nellie, where is this coming from?”

“Just an old woman’s curiosity,” she said softly. “You never speak of any women other than your mother and little Catherine.”

Nick lowered his gaze to the floorboards, the warmth in his expression dimming into a familiar shadow.

“I had someone,” he admitted quietly. “Jasmine. She was wonderful, Aunt Nellie—kind, beautiful… I adored her. But when things grew serious, and she began talking about a wedding and starting a family, I ended it. I broke her heart, and it tore me apart to do it.”

He looked up, his eyes hard with cold resolve. “It was the lesser of two evils. I couldn’t subject a wife and children to the life I lead. I couldn’t let them pay the price my mother and sister paid because of my choices. I miss her every day, but I have to live with the path I chose.”

Nellie watched him closely, seeing the lingering grief etched into his features. She gave a slow, understanding nod and reached over to pat his hand.

After saying their goodbyes, Nick and Declan returned to the Motel Concordia, where Nick extended their top-floor reservation for another three weeks. Later that evening, in Nick’s room, Keefe and Rion laid out their full reconnaissance report.

With all the pieces on the table, Nick leaned over the map, his jaw set. “We start by gutting their revenue. Tactical, surgical strikes. We sow paranoia and distrust in their ranks, bleed them dry, and weaken them before we tear down the whole structure.”

“Where do we hit first?” Rion asked.

“Their pockets,” Nick said. “Keefe observed three of their men making a regular Monday morning run at ten o’clock to deposit the week’s cash at Cornerstone Bank. Two weeks from now, we ambush that run on the highway. No unnecessary gunfire if we can avoid it. They don’t know I’m alive, and they don’t know we’re in Kansas City. We’ll use two white, late-model sedans bought cash-on-the-barrelhead from a lot in Overland Park to blend in, force their car off the road, take the bags, and vanish.”

Declan smirked faintly. “And after that?”

“After that, we lay low and watch how Dutchy reacts,” Nick said. “If they keep the same route, we hit them again. We store the getaway cars separately in hidden garages outside town. Once Casey returns with our reinforcements, we shift to their heavy operations.”

Nick’s eyes turned stone cold. “Rion confirmed three safe houses where they hold trafficked children before shipping them off. When Casey gets back, we raid those locations, liberate every child, and ensure they get back to their families. Then we crush their loan-sharking hubs.”

“A double hit,” Declan noted, approvingly. “Drain their bank accounts and destroy their street leverage in one swoop.”

Two weeks later, the plan went off like clockwork.

At 10:15 AM on a deserted stretch of highway outside the city limits, two white sedans boxed in the gang’s transport vehicle, forcing it into the soft shoulder. Before the three goons inside could draw their weapons, four masked men had them covered at gunpoint. The job was clean, quiet, and over in under ninety seconds.

After swapping vehicles at a pre-arranged drop site, the crew gathered in Nick’s motel room to tally the haul. Four heavy canvas bags yielded over five point five million dollars in unmarked hundreds, fifties, and twenties—a massive cash hit to Dutchy’s weekly liquidity.

The following afternoon, Nick had Declan drop him off at Aunt Nellie’s flat for a quiet visit.

She met him at the door with a warm embrace before bustling off to bake shortbread and brew a fresh pot of tea. As she sat down, she tapped her finger against the morning paper on the table. The front-page headline screamed: Local Enterprise Ambushed in Broad Daylight -Community Demands Police Action.

The article reported that four armed men in two white sedans intercepted a private transport vehicle, leaving no witnesses. The mayor issued a public statement condemning the violence, though locals knew the mayor was firmly in Dutchy’s pocket.

Nellie looked at Nick over the rim of her teacup. “Four men, Nicky. Is this your work?”

Nick met her gaze steadily. “I won’t lie to you, Aunt Nellie. Yes.” He continued, “It’s the first step in dismantling the Blue Street Boys. They’ve bled this city dry for years. Every dollar we take from them is going straight back into the communities they stole it from.”

Nellie sighed softly, her expression a mix of maternal anxiety and quiet grace. “I won’t judge you, Nicky. I know the pain you carry. I just worry for your life.”

For the next two hours, they set the violence aside and spoke of sweeter memories; of Nick’s mother, of Nellie’s late husband Edward, and of the quiet moments before the darkness overtook their lives. By the time a soft knock sounded at the door, both had wiped away quiet tears.

Declan stepped inside and gave Nellie a gentle hug, then turned to Nick and said, “Time to move, chief. The boys are downstairs in the car.”

Nick stood up and pulled Nellie into a long, fierce embrace, holding her close. She kissed his cheek lightly as they parted and said, “You’re a good man, Nicky. Fate brought us back together for a reason. You are the son me and Edward never had. Stay safe.”

When Nick and Declan returned to the Motel Concordia, the front desk manager gestured them over, whispering, “Local detectives were here an hour ago asking questions about the four guests on the top floor. They left thirty minutes ago to secure search warrants.”

Nick kept his face entirely neutral. “Did they search the rooms?”

The front desk manager replied, “No, sir. I told them you were out.”

“You did well,” Nick said calmly.

They moved quickly and silently, taking the rear stairwell up to their suites. They packed their bags within five minutes and loaded them into the trunk. Nick thought the police catching their trail was a stroke of bad luck, but was glad they used aliases. This bought them just enough time to get away.

Nick pulled out his burner phone and dialed New York, giving Casey a brief update: The heat is on in Kansas City. We’re pulling back to regroup. Stand by.

At dawn the next morning, the four men were back on the interstate heading east toward New York, leaving Kansas City in their rearview mirror.