The boat was cleared of all cargo and they were getting ready to shove off. Before we left, Doc had given me some things the boys left in his storage room, including clothing and a huge duffel bag full of cash.

"They muss be running behind." Father Sibeal admitted.

"They really have to hurry, then." I mumbled, bouncing on my heels. I was still nervous despite all the alcohol coursing through my veins.

"Don' worry. They know the importance o' making it on time."

Suddenly, we heard slamming, like someone beating on metal. On the far end at the bow of the ship was an extremely loud crash.

All of the crew had huddled together near the raucous at the front of the ship and Father Sibeal nodded at me. I broke off into a run, making my way through the crowd and finding a surprise at the center. The MacManus brothers had made their long awaited appearance just before the ship had shoved off, slowly standing from the crash they had exhibited. Without thinking, I finished my run and leapt into Murphy's arms, my lips crashing into his as he caught me in his strong arms. "It's nice to see you too, love." He smiled against my lips. He placed me back on my feet gently and as soon as he started to pull away I began to cry.

"Are ye okay?" He asked, cradling my chin in his hands.

"I was so scared I'd never see you again." I sobbed.

"Rebecca, dear, are ye drunk?" Connor laughed.

I nodded weakly. "Aye." I began to laugh.

"Oy, look at what ye've done ta the poor lass there, Murph!" Connor laughed, slapping his shoulder.

"It's nice to see you too, Connor." I smiled, falling into Murphy's chest again. The blue prison garb absorbed my tears as I breathed in the calming, familiar smell of Murphy. The crowd slowly dissipated. I got the sense that they knew the twins would be showing up. They were probably Saint Fanatics as well. That, or they were afraid of what would happen if they tried to say anything.

"So many years, lass. An' yer still as beautiful as ev'r." Connor laughed, taking my hand to his lips and kissing my knuckles.

The Hispanic man behind them cleared his throat. "Rebecca, dear, this is our Mexican." Murphy smiled.

I shook his hand. "My pleasure, Senorita. Name's Romeo."

"It's nice to meet you."

"Now, let's go see 'bout a drink." Connor chided.

Soon after arriving in Ireland, we found ourselves in a bar off the docks in Killorglin.

It was in that instance that we met Sean O'Sullivan.

"Oy, is that an angel I see before me?" The tall, well built Irish man stared daggers at me, his orange hair shaggy on his forehead, his scruffy orange beard shielding a smirk.

After the long voyage over to Ireland, being trapped on a barge where I was virtually the only woman, I would be lying if I said I felt like a glamorous goddess.

As I was processing the situation, Connor jumped protectively in front of me. "Best avert yer eyes."

"Alright, alright. Settle down, mate." The man put his hands out protectively in front of him. As if they were summoned, three equally burly men fell in suit behind him. "I'm not lookin' fer trouble!"

"I'm speakin' fer the lass."

"Consider 'er spoken fer. I'm nothin' if not a reasonable man."

Murphy and Romeo walked out from the bathroom and assessed the situation, their eyes darting back and forth between where Connor stood and the men loomed over him. Murphy fell in line behind his brother, pushing me behind the both of them. "Problem 'ere?"

"Not at all. I was juss introducin' m'self. Name's Sean O'Sullivan." He extended his hand to Connor. Connor didn't accept, only stared at the men just over the Irishman's shoulder. Sean seemed to understand his concern. "Boys, yer no longer needed 'ere." He spoke in the direction of his boys. They listened and filed back to their booth in the corner.

Connor and Murphy watched them walk back and then looked back to Sean. Connor took the man's hand. "Connor. This 'ere's me brudder Murphy."

"The MacManuses?" He mused, his eyes now huge and almost glowing.

"Aye." Murphy answered.

"Oy, we've 'eard a lot 'bout ye. I'd be 'onored if you boys would join me fer a drink."

"I think ye'll find that our little organization is a lot like what you boys 'ave been doin'." Sean said. He had been rambling on about his "establishment" that he co-ran with his own brother, Liam, who was out on business.

I swirled the stirrer in my drink, kind of zoning out as Sean spoke. Murphy had one hand on his beer, one hand sitting on my knee under the table.

"Yeah? 'Ow's that?" Connor asked.

"We get rid o' the scum." One of the dark haired men said simply.

"What Otis 'ere means to say is that we 'elp the cops do the dirty work round 'ere." Sean elaborated. "We 'ave families ta protect. I'd be 'onored if you boys would join us fer one o' our little excursions. Get a feel for our business."

"Much obliged, Sean, but if ye know anythin' 'bout us MacManuses, ye know that we work alone." Connor protested.

"'Ad a feelin' ye'd say that. Well, we've got ta get goin'. Busy night 'ead o' us, an' all o' that. 'Ere's my number. Call me if ye change yer mind." He handed Connor a card, threw a few large bills on the table, and he and his men filed out back onto the dark streets.

"It's getting late. I'd like to actually sleep in a bed tonight. Maybe take a proper shower." I announced.

"Aye. Maybe we should go find a place ta stay fer the night." Connor thought aloud. Murphy nodded and we left the bar.

We were finally safe in Ireland, or so we thought.