The trio paced the floor. Lord John helped himself to his personal stash of alcohol to calm his nerves, but Ron and Nancy turned down his offers. They were on duty and had to keep their minds clear to deal with whatever Cecil would tell them.

On the outskirts of Belfast, the men from MI6 and Scotland Yard surrounded the safe house that supposedly contained the leader of Sinn Fein. They had been prepared to storm the house for the last two hours, but their commander refused to give the order until he knew for sure McGann was indeed in the house.

Just as darkness was falling, the door opened and McGann appeared. So did two other men. It looked to the commander that McGann was giving the two men some final instructions, and then he turned to walk around the car and get in it. At that moment, the Commander ordered his men to go.

Later, Cecil could not say who fired first, but the gunfire between the two groups was surprisingly heavy. Several of Cecil's men fell as a result of the gunfire from the house while several of the MI6 sharpshooters finally took out the two men. McGann kept trying to get into his car, but gunfire prevented him from even opening the door. He fell to the ground, still firing his pistol randomly, trying to hit anything he could.

"Cease Fire! Cease Fire!" Cecil yelled to his men. He raced to McGann's side to assess his wounds, saw multiple bullet entries and yelled for an ambulance.

"Get one here now!" Cecil leaned over McGann. "Where is Mrs. Bartlet, you bastard? Where is she?"

All McGann did was grin. "Go to hell." His eyes rolled back and he lost consciousness.

"DAMN! DAMN!"

The ambulance crew pushed Cecil out of the way and rendered first aid to McGann. They placed him on the stretcher, and then hurriedly took him to the ambulance. Within a minute, the ambulance siren screamed its way to the hospital.

Cecil cussed a few more times, then turned around to see about his men. Two were critical, but so far, the only dead were the two in the house.

Now, the phone call he didn't want to make.

But he had to.

Reluctantly, he dialed Lord John's number.

"Hello?"

"John, It's Cecil. I have some bad news."

John listened to Cecil's news, and then hung up the phone. He turned to Ron and Nancy. "Bad news. There was a lot of gunfire, and McGann was hit quite a few times. It doesn't look good for McGann. What do you want to do?"

Ron was livid. Even after all the warnings, there was still a gun battle and it looked like their last chance to find the First Lady was slipping away. Now, even if she was still alive, the chances of her being found were even smaller than slim. They were fast becoming nonexistent.

Nancy tried to calm him down. "Ron, Cecil probably didn't have a choice. I mean when you're shot at, professionals are trained to shoot back and they're trained to shoot to kill. Just like your agents are trained to shoot to kill. In the middle of a gunfight, instinct takes over."

"GOD DAMN IT NANCY! DON'T YOU THINK I KNOW THAT!"

Nancy cringed at the intensity of Ron's voice. She didn't remember anytime she had heard him yell so loud. "Listen, I'm just as frustrated as you are. We've been here, what three, four days now and it looks like we're going home with nothing? I know how you feel, Ron. I understand the disappointment you're probably feeling. We're disappointing Leo, but more important, we're disappointing the President. A President we both respect and love and hate to see him hurting so much. But there's only so much we can do. And if McGann dies, I'm afraid we've reached the end of our journey. And as much as I don't want to say it, we will have to accept the fact that we will never be able to bring Abbey Bartlet home."

Ron suddenly turned to John. "I want to go to Belfast."

"Why, Ron? There's nothing there. I mean McGann is in surgery. He may live or die, but either way we can't talk to him."

"I want to go to Belfast. Do we go on your plane, John, or do I get a commercial flight?"

John looked at Nancy, who shrugged her shoulders. "If he goes, I go," she replied.

"Okay. We leave at 11. And I go with you. I have no idea why you feel the need to go, but I am your host and I go with you. Besides, it's my plane."

"Fine. I don't care who goes. I go. That's all I care about."

The jet arrived in Belfast and was met by a car sent by Cecil. He figured that the trio would come regardless so he sent a car. The car transported them to Belfast Medical Center and they were escorted to the private conference room Cecil had requested from the hospital administration.

"Want some coffee?"

"No," Ron angrily replied. "First, I want to know McGann's condition and then I want to know why the hell your guys saw fit to unload their weapons when I specifically told you I needed the man alive."

Cecil knew Ron would be angry and he thought he was prepared for the intensity of the man's feelings, but he was caught off guard by the incredible negative feelings exuding from him. "Ron, we did everything by the book. My guys were being fired upon by automatic weapons. I have two men in surgery now in critical condition and several others waiting to go with minor wounds. They had to defend themselves. They responded as they had been taught to do so. If they had not fired back, we all would have been slaughtered out there. Those three men were well armed."

"Those are excuses, Cecil. Two men are dead and they could have been information sources if McGann dies. Now if McGann dies, what the hell are we going to do? What chance do we have in getting Mrs. Bartlet back, alive or dead? None at all. And it would have been all your fault. And I have to be the one to go back and tell the President of the United States that we failed in even finding his wife's body to bring back for a proper goodbye and burial. Do you know how that is going to feel? Like SHIT! Want to come with me and face the man? That will be hell on earth and I DON'T WANT TO DO IT! But your actions will require me to do it."

By this time, Ron was in Cecil's face. Nancy was considering stepping in and pulling the rottweiler off of Cecil, but the door to the room opened before she could make a move.

The doctor knew instantly he had interrupted a heated discussion, but he had news to relay.

"Director McGee?"

Cecil stepped forward, relieved to be away from Ron even for a minute. "That's me. You have news about Brendan McGann?"

"Yes. I'm sorry. He died on the operating table about ten minutes ago. His injuries were just too serious."

John, Ron and Nancy looked at each other and collapsed in the nearest chairs. Their journey had come to the worst possible end. Now what would they do?