Donovan pulled his rental car onto I-465. He knew the drive would only take forty-five minutes to his destination. He drove this route many times before. He remembered the last time he took this route.

******************************************

He disliked having to attend these training seminars. What he disliked the most was having to speak at one. Ever since he ended the Freeman standoff, the bosses wanted him to teach his strategy. They couldn't understand that it's not something you could teach, but learn by experience. He was in the middle of a sentence when he saw his friend, Tom Callahan walk in. He stopped mid-sentence when he saw the look on his face.

"Tom." Donovan said, "What's wrong?"

"Frank, I need to speak to you alone." Tom replied.

Alarmed at his friend's tone, Donovan repeated the question.

"What's wrong?"

Moving Donovan away from the class, Tom whispered to him. "We received a call from the State Department. You need to return to Virginia right away. It's Elizabeth."
Before Tom was finished with his sentence, Donovan was already out of the room.

**************************

Six hours later FBI Headquarters

"What happened to Elizabeth?" Donovan growled, pissed since no one can give him a straight answer.

"Elizabeth is missing." Tom said straight out.

"Missing? How long? Tell me everything." he demanded, trying to regain some composure.

"Thirty-six hours." Tom replied, waiting for the explosion.

"Thirty-six hours? She's been missing for thirty-six hours and no one at the State Department used their heads to check on her, to see why she was an hour late?" Donovan asked, his anger becoming more apparent.

"They did Frank." Tom replied.

"Thirty-six hours is not right away Tom." Donovan retorted.

"According to the them, she's been only missing for twelve hours. She wasn't scheduled to work the day she went missing." Tom replied watching Donovan pace back and forth.

"She wasn't scheduled?" Donovan repeated.

"She had an appointment in the morning. She took the day off." Tom replied quietly.

"The only thing we found in her car was this note. Can you understand it?

Donovan took the evidence bag from Tom. He looked at the note.

****Fillean meal ar an meallaire****

"Christ." Donovan said leaning against the desk, closing his eyes.

"What is it Frank? Can you understand it?" Tom asked.

"It's Gaelic. An Irish proverb. 'Evil returns to the evil doer.' " Donovan explained, knowing who has Elizabeth.

Suddenly Tom's phone rang. He quickly answered it. "They found her Frank." Donavan's heart leapt in his chest.

"Let's go." he said heading out the door.

************************************************

The caller gave directions for Frank Donovan to go to an abandon farm in Virginia.
Donovan stopped the car near the barn. He watched the HRT team secure the land around him. There was no way to secure the inside. Getting out of the car, he slowly walked towards the barn.

"Careful, Frank. We have no visual of him yet." Tom said in his headset.

"You're advice is noted Tom." he replied, looking through the barn door. Inside he saw her. She was tied to a chair. She wasn't moving. Is she, he thought. No, don't even think of it, he said to himself. Then he saw her head move. She was alive, but for how long? They didn't know if she was hurt and if she was, how bad was it? When she moved her head, he could see some bruises. The bastard hit her. Seeing the bruises enraged Donovan. Without thinking or securing the barn, he ran to her.

Donovan reached her and held her face in his hands. She looked at him in shock. He quickly looked her over. Only bruises on her face. He pulled his knife out of his vest and started to cut her ropes.

"Remember me, boy-o?" A voice yelled for the darkened barn. "Ya killed me sister."

"I remember you O'Shea." he yelled back, quickly taking the ropes of Elizabeth.

"Time to pay!" he yelled, stepping out of the shadows, gun drawn on Donovan. Donovan saw him out of the corner of his eye. The light reflecting off the gun.

Everything happened fast. Bam. Bam. Bam. Bam. The flashes from the muzzles lit up the room. The smell of gunpowder stung Donavan's nose. From behind him the HRT team ran in, guns drawn, securing the area. O'Shea was lying on the ground, dead. So many things were running through his head. The first thing he wanted to do is beg her forgiveness for not telling her about O'Shea. He turned to hold her and she wasn't there. He looked around for her, finding her lying on the ground, bleeding.

"Elizabeth, no." he whispered. Bending down to her, he held her while the paramedics came in.