"We'll be landing in Dublin within the hour," Donovan announced.

Alex stood up to stretch her legs and slapped Jake in the back of his head to wake him up.

"Up, we're almost there." Alex smiled innocently at him.

"There's other ways to wake a person up," Jake mumbled rubbing his head.

"Pay attention." Donovan said handing out the file. "Her name is Ciara Fitzgerald. She worked for the State Department as a Political Affairs Officer. Ciara was a liaison between the US Ambassador and the British Ambassador negotiating with the peace process."

"How long was she dealing with this?" Monica asked,

"She was involved in the process since 1998, after the Belfast Agreement was signed. She has first hand knowledge about all the groups that were involved." Donovan replied.

"Question," Cody raised his hand, "okay, and a couple questions. One. Why was she pronounced dead if she's alive? Two. What happened?"

"Members of the Real IRA kidnapped her from her home in Dublin." Donovan started to explain, "They made their list of demands. After two months of being held hostage, they decided they wanted to trade her for political prisoners."

"The government didn't go for it." Jake answered.

"The United States will not negotiate with terrorists." Donovan flatly replied.

"What did her family do?" Alex asked.

"What could they do?" Donovan asked, "She signed the memo stating where the government stands on hostage situations. All parties knew what they were getting into."

"I take it you have signed the memo once or twice in your career." Alex stated.

"Once or twice," he confirmed.

"Something tells me that her family wouldn't take that as a no." Jake commented.

"Off the record, a team was sent to find her. When they were close to finding her, they moved her." Donovan admitted.

"So, was she related to a Kennedy to get that kind of response?" Cody smirked.

"No," Donovan glared, "Ciara Fitzgerald is the Irish Ambassador's goddaughter."

"And you were in charge of finding her." Alex stated, "How long were you on the case?"

"The Real IRA had Ciara for almost four months before I was called in. After tracking them over half of Northern Ireland, we caught up to them in Belfast." Donovan explained sitting down.

"And then what happened?" Monica asked.




"My team was ready to go in when gunshots were heard, then a fire broke out. The heat was too intense to go in. By the time we were able to get in, half the house was up in flames. They knew the government would never trade for Ciara, so they shot her in the back of the head." Donovan explained, closing his eyes remembering that day.

"Ciara's death happened one month before you beached yourself." Monica commented adding the dates up, "You blame yourself for her death."

"Ciara was an old family friend. I owe it to her family to bring her back," he responded.

"If she is alive, why wouldn't she have contacted her family?" Jake asked.

"I'm not sure." Donovan replied, "But we'll find out. We'll be landing in a few minutes. Make sure all your paperwork is in order for Customs and Immigration."

"How long will it take?" Alex asked, "Are the lines long like in the States?"

"They'll be coming to the plane," he smiled at Alex and Cody's facial expressions, "Tom made a few calls after we left."

"What's the plan after that?" Jake asked.

"We'll be traveling to County Wicklow. Tom said the photos were taken almost a week ago. His informant will be meeting us when we land." Donovan said.

"Don't forget to breath when we land Jake." Cody laughed.

"You're going to meet with a Blarney stone if you don't watch it." Jake threatened.

"Wrong part of Ireland." Alex laughed.

The plane landed with no problems. Customs and Immigration were waiting for them as the taxied in. In less than ten minutes they were ready to disembark the plane and met with the informant.

The sky was overcast. You could smell the rain in the air. Donovan pulled his coat as he disembarked from the plane. At the end of the tarmac, Donovan saw a familiar face waiting for him.

"Ambassador Doyle," Donovan greeted, "I thought you would be in Washington."

"Tá fáilte romhat. Welcome Frank, it's good to see you again," the old man said embracing him, "it's been too long. If anyone can bring Ciara home, it's you."

"No disrespect, sir, that's if she's really alive." Donovan added.

"Come, I have rooms prepared for you and your friends." The Ambassador invited.

"Thank you, but no, "Donovan refused, " I'd like to leave for Wicklow right away."

"Bí ciúin. Be quiet," the Ambassador huffed, "your informant is waiting at my home. It wouldn't be wise for him to be seen with us in public. Come, I have apple fritters and Irish coffee waiting for you."

Donovan smiled. He knew when he was beat. "You win John," Donovan laughed, "we'll follow behind you."



The drive from Dublin Airport to Ambassador Doyle's home took thirty minutes. Thirty minutes too long. Cody kept complaining that Donovan was driving on the wrong side of the road and was trying to kill them.

"Watch out for the car." Cody yelled.

"For the last time Cody," Monica yelled throwing her coat at him, "They drive on the left side here."

Donovan followed the Ambassador's car into gated driveway. An armed guard was stationed in front of the gate as they passed through it. Jake and Alex were mentally noting the security on the grounds. Donovan pulled up and turned off the car. He got out of the car and looked around. Everything still looked the same.

Cody and Monica were looking around when a dog came running and barking towards them. "What the hell is that?" Cody asked moving out of the way before it ran him over. They watched run over to Donovan and knocked him to the ground.

"It's an Irish Wolfhound," Donovan smiled standing up petting the dog, "Her name is Pooka. It means mischievous sprite. Watch your wallet, Ciara trained it to steal."

"So, you've been here before." Alex laughed.

Donovan was about to reply when he looked up and the people walking out of the house. Seeing the one man walk out Donovan drew his gun and aimed it at him. "What the hell is he doing here?" he asked the Ambassador.

"He's here to help us." the Ambassador explained, "Patrick has all the information you need."

"He was with them when Ciara was killed. He helped them." Donovan accused.

"He was feeding us information on Ciara's whereabouts. You can trust him Frank," the Ambassador pleaded. "Let's go in and talk."

"I'll join you in a minute." Donovan said holstering his gun, "There's something I need to do first."

"He'll be back in a moment. He doesn't trust easy, especially when it comes to Ciara. Give him time," the Ambassador told his friend, showing them all into the house.

Alex watched Donovan walk towards the back of the estate. He knew exactly where he was going. Alex followed him to make sure his was okay. He walked into what looked like a family cemetery. Alex hung back to give him some privacy.

Donovan stopped at a grave that was just recently dug up. He moved his hand over the headstone. He dropped to his knees and rested his head on the stone. "Tá grá agam duit." he whispered, ignoring the wetness on his cheek, "Tá brón orm." Donovan stayed there a few minutes more before tracing his finger over the words inscribed on the headstone.

Alex watched Donovan walk back towards the house. She walked over to the headstone. Her curiosity got the better of her. She read the headstone. Ciara Fitzgerald. Born October 30, 1970. Died September 24, 2000. She looked at the word Donovan traced with his finger. Céile.

"This gets more and more confusing." Alex muttered to herself walking back to the house.