Mario had called.  Tara’s money was withdrawn as expected.
  
Her business manager made a few calls and came back in short order with a memo, dock 22 was currently empty but a ship left there last night bound for England.  It was a cargo vessel supposedly carrying textiles.  The next ship in was due tomorrow at around noon barring unexpected weather, though all forecasts indicated none on the horizon… save a bit of fog in the early morning.  That vessel’s manifest would show, according to their records, that it had a port of origin of Belfast, Ireland.  

As for whether Gavin had been taken without witnesses, again her gut paid off.  Kacey wasn’t going to hand over anything sensitive that would help Gavin, Isabella or ‘the mob’ … but helping his worried girlfriend who was clearly concerned about her wayward brother, well that was something else entirely.  The more time that she spent with Kacey the more apparent it had become to Tara that Kacey was a good man… and lawful, for the most part.  While he was certainly not one to file under possible corrupt badge to be used if the cause was ‘righteous’ Kacey might be able to be trusted to look the other way or let things slip that could help the ‘good guys’ – in this case, her.

“Billings filed a complaint of shots fired last night just a block up from McGregor’s Toy Store.  Damn.”  He said, clicking his tongue in disappointment.  “The officer who went out to look into the matter found a guy… dead on arrival – shock red hair, green eyes, 5’9” and all muscle.  No ID.  No witnesses knew him.  Said he & another man were involved in beating down the third man.”  

Kacey went silent a moment.  Tara could hear him flip a page.

“Hmm.”  She could hear him swallow.  “Witnesses say that the man who was on the losing side of the beat down pulled a gun and shot the red-haired fellow in the chest.  Apparently, the other guy who was still standing, he got the gun away from the shooter and pistol-whipped him.  A moment later two more men came in and so it was three men beating on one curled up in the gutter.  One witness claims the three men dragged the shooter away, unconscious.  No one dared follow.  I got several descriptions here.  Some contradict each other,” He scoffed.  “One even seemed to think one of the fellows was a Catholic priest if you can believe that?”

Kacey sighed and she could hear him close the folder.  “I’m sorry… but the shooter matches the description of the man you’re probably looking for.”  Considering he was at work it was probably wise he didn’t say her brother’s name or that it was her brother.  

“Tara… if you’d like to… I mean, I know how difficult this is considering all factors.  But if you should want to file a missing person report, I’d be glad to help you through the process.  No one should be hauled off like that – no matter what they’re mixed up in.  I know you must be worried out of your mind.  Just remember… I’m here if you need anything at all.”

Kacey would be there for her… but involving him might be tricky if she wanted to keep up her pretense of not being involved in the mob.  For now, Kacey left her to consider her options and made her promise to call him the moment she knew what she wanted to do.  He still had six hours of his shift left but he’d take a personal day if he needed to.  

Snipers were a small matter to arrange.  She had more than enough contacts to make that happen and with access to Jack’s vast network of debts owed, there was a line of men as long as her arm ready to make good to Godfather Mezzo what they owed by putting someone down.

All that was left was the small matter of piracy and the finer details involving her future Sister-In-Law who, if the short call was any indication, would arrive in quite the state… may God help her.

As much as Will used to chafe at being told about his white hat he had to admit that sometimes he walked right into it. Take today for example: Here he was going to the Sewing Factory Lofts to face down a dragon about a princess. Granted, usually the princess isn't usually the dragon's sister, but when did they ever do anything the ordinary route?

It had been a while since the last time he'd talked to Bella and he'd missed her. Somehow she always seemed to make the crazy parts of life seem more manageable. The feeling of missing her wasn't the ache that it had been, mercifully, but he'd still felt her absence all the same and was glad for a moment to be able to catch up. He'd had one such occasion recently but it hadn't exactly worked out to plan.

Hence, he was also looking for an excuse to apologize for his behavior when they'd last seen each other at the Arcadia Gym. He'd made a damned spectacle of himself and though things seemed to have gone well enough with Ellie he hadn't exactly shared how things were going in that part of his life and that wasn't really fair to Isabella considering how open she'd been about the possibility.

These thoughts and a dozen more ran circles around Will Bowden's brain as he left his vehicle behind, his guards dismissed for the personal chat he foresaw. He'd arrived at the door to the apartment building and nearly steeled his resolve to enter when to his great surprise he found Isabella Luciano...no, Isabella Byrne he reminded himself...straightening up from another vehicle parked at the curb, her arms laden with so many bags and boxes that he'd only seen a brief glimpse of her face. She'd been doing some serious shopping.

At least it made it easier to start a conversation.

"Good to see you Bella, provided that is you under all that stuff. You need a hand getting some of that in? I was actually hoping to visit for a bit while I was in the neighborhood."

It struck him that the stacks of boxes might very well mean she's in the middle of something. Particularly the sort of something that he still wasn't completely eager to face head on. His resolve began to waver just a tad.

"Provided of course you've got a little while. I wouldn't want to impose of course."

"Are you kidding!"  She said chuckling passing off some of her boxes to him.  "I just got off a flight from Detroit, I've finalized the seating charts, had my final fitting for and picked up my dress, shoes, all the accessories... all I want to do now is get this haul up to the loft and enjoy a warm cup of soup.  It's far from fancy but if you're hungry I'd love to share a bowl with you.  Tomato and grilled cheese?"

She hit the button on the elevator with her elbow.  "I do make a mean grilled cheese... seriously it's beyond good.  No one who has ever had one of my grilled cheese sandwiches was ever the same after."  She laughed her way into the large service elevator and then cussed realizing she needed to set her armload down to fish out her key.

Putting the key into the panel the elevator doors closed with Will and Bella inside and went up.  "I have no idea what state the place is in... Gavin's normally pretty neat, but no promises we won't find the place covered in unwashed dishes from dinner last night, the bed unmade or even his butt sleeping on the couch."  She chuckled and picked up her things.

"If he is, I won't hold it against you if you want to put his hand in warm water... god knows we need a new couch and that would be a great excuse."  The doors opened to a large open space, no walls so that every room save the bathroom lacked any real privacy.  The living room was connected to the kitchen and dining and the bedroom seamlessly.  There was no unwashed dishes, no trash, no unmade bed... and no Gavin.  None of which seemed to trouble Bella, of course, as she set her stuff down on the large dining room table.  

"Just put those over here.  I can go through them after I freshen up."  She headed towards the powder room.  "Feel free to look around!"  She called out loudly and disappeared into the only walled off space in the loft.

Tall two story windows let in light from outside so much so that it might well have been a greenhouse.  Around the walls that existed were shelves and shelves of books, records, and trinkets.  Odds and ends collected over the course of Isabella's life, a Broadway playbook, a small bronze elephant figurine, a matchbook from a bar in Montreal, half a ticket stub from a carnival ride in Atlantic City.  Casting his eyes about the room would cause William to slowly realize that everything from the photos to the smallest bit of "trash" on display was a small window into the life of Isabella... or Gavin, but most likely Isabella considering the ticket from the carnival ride.

The sound of the toilet flushing, the sink running, it was a warning she was returning.  If he didn't want to be seen looking, he could easily walk away from the physical remnants of her past or not.  "I absolutely refuse to use a bathroom on a plane.  It just seems strange to me.  I don't think a man was meant to pee in the air... is that weird of me?"  She asked moving towards her kitchen.

"So... you up for soup or not?"  

The whole trip into the apartment was surreal in how natural it felt. William had been foolish to worry about pretenses to come and speak with Isabella. It was a bit like coming up with reasons to get up and have a cup of coffee in the morning, it was just something you did because it was an ordinary part of your life. It was now that his mind began to realize how odd it had been NOT to see her these last few weeks.

"Maybe just a bit weird, but then who am I to judge?"

The interior of the apartment was a bit like looking at Bella as she'd presented herself to him. No walls, no games, just blunt and beautiful honesty. As he'd looked around the metaphor had become more apt with each token of her life spread out before him. He couldn't help but smile at the ticket stub from Atlantic City. It had been one of the most purely happy days he could remember having and a piece of him would always cherish the memory no matter what the future held for either of them. It was part of the reason that a drawing on the back of a bag still found a place in his most guarded possessions.

"I'd be glad to share some soup with you. Some things are better discussed over a meal too."

Finally William turned from the shelves holding pieces of Bella's soul bare to anyone who happened to enter. He hadn't even tried to hide the fact that he'd noticed the tangible little memories throughout the space. Of course a part of him had screamed that it was impolite and presumptuous, but at this point they'd already bared quite a bit to one another. In love, in mortal danger, and in pain. To not recognize these things for what they were would have seemed almost more of an insult than the alternative.

"It's a beautiful home Isabella. Maybe could do with a bit more art. Maybe some drawings if you know anybody up to it." A wink and a nod. They both knew she was excellent at the craft, even if she didn't always want to admit it. "But it really feels perfect."

William took the few steps to cross to the dining space and drew out a seat for himself. He settled in and watched as Bella moved through the space with the ease that a person only has in a place they've truly made their own.

"How have things been for you in the last couple of weeks? I feel like we've missed each other far too much lately. Especially since.."

Since I ran out like a moron and kissed your sister in front of a few thousand surprised faces?

"Since Seattle. I'm sorry I didn't talk to you first by the way."

She began prepping the meal as they spoke, "Now don't start apologizing or I'm going to be offended on behalf of Elie.  I'm not her keeper, okay - far from it.  Hell, most of the trouble she ever got into when we were young was all my doing.  If anything, between the two of us, she's got the lion's share of my mother's good sense and I got all my father's temper... though clearly, I'm not the only one who got his right hook!"  She chuckled at the memory of her younger sister fighting.  She had been truly amazing.

She looked up the frying pan which now held melting butter and met his eyes with seriousness.  "I thought I was pretty clear on the matter anyway... granted, I think you did about the most boneheaded thing which anyone has EVER done in regards to my father, but... maybe you like pissing off Godfathers."  She shrugged.

"You know the crazy thing is,"  The pan began to sizzle and Isabella worked mindlessly as she spoke, focusing on the food again.  "He thinks the absolute world of you.  If by some fucking miracle he didn't see those photos in the paper... you'd do well to secure his blessing to date her on the night of my wedding.  He can't refuse you then, he can't refuse anyone anything they ask on that night."

She chuckled.  "Luckily for you, I'm not a total asshole.  After witnessing your display in Seattle, seeing how you two ... clicked... I made changes to my seating chart for the wedding dinner."

She looked Will in the eyes and smiled warmly, "I've moved Tara to a location where she can bring her latest plus one, and I've put you and Elie together so you can make sure you fill up her dance card properly before Alexander Knight spots her and gets any bright ideas between songs."

"I can handle Alexander. He's a pretty reasonable guy when it comes down to it."

It didn't hurt that he was under Don Bowden's protection and as such they had some ground rules between them. Of course, far better not to rely on such leverage where it wasn't necessary.

"Thank you Isabella. For everything. As hard as it is to choke down, you may have been right all along. I've been happy lately."

Of course that could have something to do with the company I've been keeping.

"As for your father, believe it or not I was already thinking that way. I don't, in fact, enjoy upsetting Godfathers. I just have a knack for it. Luckily I also have a knack for finding my way back out of it and the wedding day is a saving grace. Unless of course he finds me before then, so I'll just have to stay terribly busy for now."

He grinned at Isabella, knowing full well that he was playing a dangerous game. Albeit one he was almost certain would be non-lethal. By Isabella's admission the Godfather was fond of him, and he'd been through a beating at his hands once before. He was pretty sure he could handle another if it came to that. He really hoped it wouldn't come to that though. Contemplation of that thought caused the grin to sag and give way to contemplation.

"I'm glad that Tara has someone. It was a terrible shock that she's been unattached so long. Hell, if things were different..."

No, not the time for such thoughts. The world isn't kind to what ifs. The proof of that was staring William in the face.

"Well, suffice it to say that it seems like things are working out for everybody right now, don't you agree?"

Isabella pressed a knife through one sandwich and the other cutting them into perfect triangle halves pulling the knife away in such a manner that showed off just how perfectly she'd melted the cheese.  She grinned with satisfaction.  Then as she considered William's words she poured thick red tomato soup into bright white china bowls.

"And here you go..."  She said putting the food in front of William before sitting down with her own.  She quickly muttered grace then looked to William to address his thoughts.

"I don't like being right at the cost of people's happiness... but in this case everyone does seem to be happy which, maybe, is all that matters.  I mean, I know you and Elie are just starting to see where things are going and the guy Tara's been seeing... well, I won't say much about him save for the fact that I don't know how serious it really is yet."

She took a bite of her soup and sandwich before continuing.  

"I can't imagine it's very serious... but she's asked me not to meddle in her love life until after the wedding and I'm a woman of my word.  So,"  She made a gesture of lifting her hands away and holding them up in the way one did for the cops to show you didn't have a weapon.  "I'm hands off."

It was then, the phone rang.  Isabella stood up and crossed the room to the black rotary phone on the corner of a small desk that he'd remember from the Ivory Tower.  "Hello?"  She looked set to greet whoever had revealed themselves to her as the caller but the words seemed to catch in her throat and never cross her lips.

There was a pause.  Isabella's olive complexion grew pale, her lips hung agape.  A look of terror grew behind her doe-eyes.  "Is he..."  She began was cut off by the caller who was clearly rapid firing information at her.  The look of fear morphed almost instantly into a cold fury.  She opened her desk drawer pulling out a gun.

"Tara, listen to me..."  Isabella said almost rude, which was highly unusual for Isabella really.  "Give me twenty minutes, I need to change and cross town.  We'll find him.  Whoever is doing this is going to pay for it, I promise you." 

No.  Not rude.  It was a voice that William had heard her speak with before when they'd gone after Garrett.  It was the voice of a leader who knew how high the stakes were, but one who was deeply compromised by the possible ramification of her choices.  A sort of paralyzing dread that could cause her to freeze with indecision or go on a murderous rampage at precisely the wrong moments. 

She was a dragon alright, Gavin's nickname was apt, but right now she was one backed into a corner and ready to snap at even those dear to her desperate to get back what belonged to her.  She didn't say goodbye to her future Sister-In-Law, she just hung up the phone, snatched up her gun from the spot she'd set it and then began to cross the room. 

She turned her head to face William as she was moving, "We'll have to catch up another time." 

Again, terse words.  She grabbed a practical shirt off the rack that hung suspended from the ceiling a metal pole hung from two very long bits of rope that Gavin had spent an entire day figuring out how he was going to rig without breaking his damn neck. 

"Gavin's been taken."

She went to her dresser and violently pulled it open and snatched out a pair of slacks. 

"Tara has their demands."

Marching towards her bathroom, she was just about to pass the pile of wedding supplies, when she stopped suddenly.  She might as well have been a car racing towards a brick wall.  The impact was palpable.  Even a blind man might draw lines between this moment and one in her past.  She looked down at the box from 'Johnson's Bridal Shop.' 

William might never have visited Johnson's, but he had seen a box from there once before.  She'd begged him to get rid of it for her.  She couldn't bear to throw out the dress she'd meant to marry her 'dead' fiancee in but she also couldn't bear to keep looking at it day after day for months on end.

Her hand cupped her mouth as a rogue sob escaped the place she'd tried to hide it away in.  For a moment the outrage against her enemies couldn't keep her focused on the task at hand.  The trepidation of what she might lose, or have already lost, threatened to swallow her whole.  William could see her going weak in the knees and instantly he was at her side in case she might collapse.  She didn't know if he'd been following her or sprinted to her side - all she could see was the box that held a dress Gavin might never see.

"I just need..."  her words were breathy and trembling.  "... a moment."

Logically she knew time was of the essence, she had to get to Race Street, but logic had no power in the face of this foe.  The all too familiar pang, the bitter taste in the back of her mouth that was like sucking on spent shells of ammo.  Her stomach turned as she imagined a coffin, this time not with Elias in it, but -

"I'm not helping you get rid of another one."  William's level voice stopped her thought train.    

She pressed her eyes together hard trying to banish the thought from her mind.  Gavin was the toughest son of a bitch she knew and considering what Elias survived that was a really strong endorsement.  If anyone could endure, if anyone would find a way to live through this, it was Gavin.  If the grave could not keep Elias from her... then it sure as fuck wouldn't even slow Gavin Byrne down.

"C'mon,"  He said turning her away from the boxes and wedding items to face him.  His eyes held hers like a steel trap. "We're getting him back."  He said with absolute confidence.

His face broke into a smile as if to try and reassure her that he had no fears or doubts, "Even if it kills me."

Isabella's facade cracked a touch and she quickly pecked William on the cheek to say thank you.  "I'll change and then we can go together to Race Street together.  Until we know who this is or what motive they possibly have, maybe it's best not to take chances.  Why don't you go let our guards know we're leaving soon."

True to her word, twenty minutes later they were standing in Tara's office.

Tara was sitting in her desk chair with her eyes closed; she wasn't asleep, but deep in thought. Her next call would be to Belfast to ask the underground there about any links between the owners of the ship leaving from Belfast and the men who'd been spotted in the street abducting Gavin. The priest, in particular, might identify the group in question. She snapped her eyes open as Isabella and William walked in. 

"Thank you both for coming so quickly. I'd like your thoughts..."

Speaking quickly, Tara outlined the many plans she'd already considered, asking her friends for input and any ideas of their own.

Isabella's thoughts and mood were dark.  It took everything she had not to feel hopeless and to stay focused on making these bastards pay for ever crossing someone she called family - let alone someone she desperately loved.

Tara outlined her ideas and Bella listened carefully to them, occasionally glancing towards William as if she was wondering what he was thinking.  Isabella might have thought that all of Tara's ideas were perfectly sensible in any normal kidnapping situation... but this wasn't just 'some person' ... this was Gavin.  And, being that it was Gavin, it raised all sorts of alarms in her head.

"Personally,"  She began to speak as unflappable as she could force herself to be, which wasn't flawless (not by a long shot) all things considered.  "I think the snipers are a sound plan.  Hell, taking the boat before it enters the harbor isn't bad either.  Put our people on the boat.  Let it come into dock and then, when those bastards step out to negotiate with us, our people jump 'em from behind or snipers put bullet between their eyes."

She shook her head, "I think we need to address the elephant in the room here.  We're in this business too.  We all know that no one in their right mind targets a man of Gavin's skills and talents for kidnapping.  There's too much risk involved and if what you say is right, they paid the price with the lives of one of their men so far... no telling how many since." 

"Look, people who are after ransom, they kidnap pretty wives, children, and old people with legacy cash.  Not murderers for hire.  If someone jumped Gavin, it's got to be personal which means the cash exchange might not yield the sort of results we want.  We should consider that this isn't a diplomatic exchange we're planning... if we're lucky, its a rescue mission."

"I'd bet my shoes this must have something to do with all the freelance work Gavin's been doing lately.  Maybe he shot someone whose family is holding a grudge?  Maybe he crossed the wrong group of people out of Ireland?  Fuck!  To be totally honest he's been doing so much off books to recover from my father draining your & his accounts just so he could get me here, and most of it without me or Race Street Company, that I have no idea what person or group he could have made as an enemy!"

She was exasperated and wracked with guilt. Gavin could be in danger because he gave away every dime he had to get her here.  And now he was trying to recover, to take care of her in a manner to which she was accustomed.  He was trying to be... a good husband.  Her shoulders sunk a little at the thought.

"If it's personal... they'll milk us for what they can, but most likely this ends in a double cross.  My advice... but this is your mission Tara so please take this for what it is - advice... is to embrace the parts of your plan that focus on an aggressive response.  Send a message, we don't negotiate with people who screw with our family.  We make sure no one ever is dumb enough to come after us again.  Shoot first, ask questions of whatever survives, and pray to God they didn't kill him before coming to the table to talk."

She pauses.  It was a terrible thing to say... but it's what she would have done in their situation.  "Three days seems a long time to wait... a long time to keep someone as deadly as Gavin as your prisoner.  If he is still alive, there's a good chance these idiots might find a wolf at their throats long before they ever come face to face with his sister, best friend and future wife."

She glanced to Will, hoping he had some good insight to add,  "What do you think Will?

Will listened to Tara and Isabella carefully, each laying out their thoughts in detail, though not without a coloring of rage and fear. Will's worry was just as tangible, though for him it wasn't just for Gavin. The man was family and his life being in danger was a terrible thing, but moreso he knew what it would do to Isabella to lose him. He'd seen her that way once before and wasn't sure he could pull her back twice. Recovering Gavin alive had to be first and foremost.

"I think if we're looking to send a message that would be the way to do it, but it takes a lot of risks for Gavin. By all means, keep your snipers in case something goes wrong but if they got to shoot our odds of getting him back go way down."

William took a moment to wrack his brain. The kidnappers coming from Belfast, Ireland was a bit of a surprise. Even if Gavin had been doing side work, what kind of person would come that far that quickly to avenge it? He couldn't make heads or tails of it.

"It might not necessarily be personal. For someone to set things up in Ireland for this it would have taken weeks. I don't buy that out of all the poor Irish bastards here in Philly Gavin messed with one of the only ones with that kind of resources and didn't figure it out. It's probably more likely that somebody figured out you and Gavin," 

He nodded in Tara's direction, face still screwed up in thought,

"Were in with the mob and had access to money. Hell, with the guns they're asking for it could even be the IRA. If they wanted to get in Race Street's pockets they probably looked for a mark they'd get a shot at. Tara spends her days working and surrounded by security so she's out. Jack is protected as all hell and as dangerous as any man I've met. Me and Adonis rarely leave our guys behind unless we're visiting someone just as dangerous as we are. None of the rest of us has anybody that's off on their own much at all except Tara."

Shaking his head in disbelief at what he was about to say William continued on. It was obvious, but he never would have guessed it until it happened.

"Gavin's the easiest target to really screw with our pocketbooks, dangerous as he is. Anybody who does any looking would know how much he means to Tara. If they chose Gavin as a mark they'd know there was a risk of him doing some real damage in the grab so it would just be the cost of doing business. Whoever this is, they knew the kind of resources we had going in and went for it anyhow knowing how much they could get out of us. I say we pull together what they want and play along, at least until we get our eyes on Gavin. Once we know he's safe, then we can go in guns blazing to make them regret their decisions, but until then I don't think it's wise to take too many risks. What's to say that boat isn't coming in with a signal to the kidnappers to let them know all's clear? If they find out we took their escape out from under them then they might kill Gavin anyway. No sense keeping the goods when you know the ransom isn't gonna happen."

Will knew that what he was saying wouldn't be satisfying to hear. These people had fucked with them and didn't deserve a shred of mercy. They'd earned Isabella's advice, but they weren't the only part of this equation.

"I'd say for now we put as many contingencies into place as we can, but focus on playing their game. Let them think they've got control of the situation and play it defensively. Set ships out in the harbor to get them on their way out of town, but play their game until we've got Gavin back safe. If they're after the money and guns then they won't put their hostage in danger any more than they've got to. Right now they got too much to gain by keeping him alive."

Tara listened carefully as both Isabella and Will chimed in with their 

"So, snipers are a go. We'll have them then set up after we arrive, to make sure we're following instructions. If they find someone already on the rooftops, they can take them out- silently if possible."

"We'll hold off... for now... on trying to capture the ship ourselves while it's at sea. But if they dock anywhere else... New York, Boston, whatever... and if they take on crew at all, we'll make sure to have some people ready."

"Isabella, usually pretty wives, children, and old people don't fetch as much money as Gavin. If they know his connection to me... to you... an ambitious enough team might have tried it for the huge payday. I agree that diplomacy isn't likely to solve all our problems, but I plan on trying everything we can- and if I need to pay, I'll pay. Once he's safe... well, then we'll handle other business after that. 'Shoot first' might endanger Gavin. I'm with you on that one, Will. "

She tapped her fingers on her desk.

"I hope we find out more about who did this... maybe the ship has ties to someone in Ireland we can get info on, or someone here in the States."

"But your point about Gavin getting free is a good one. We need to blanket the streets, covering as many potential locations as possible. If he gets free, I want a goomba on every street corner ready to call in the cavalry."

"Anything else you think we need to do before this gets started?"

Bella stood still with gaze distant and detatched, she was thinking about something that was said and what if anything she should add.  She nodded her acceptance of the other woman's choices, she certainly couldn't argue with her logic.  It probably was only her rage that made her want to charge in guns blazing - god knew how much she wanted blood for this! 

As Tara asked if there was anything else, she drew a breath.  "You know... I do have some contacts in Belfast."

This wasn't anything she thought she'd ever admit to anyone.  Honestly, she'd thought she'd left that part of her in Detroit... but here she was, wondering if her time as the leader of the Ivory Tower wouldn't finally pay off in a major way.  Could that part of her past help save Gavin's life?  Did she have some REAL way to assist? 

Maybe.  Don't get your hopes up yet, Bella.  Calm.

"I've never really tapped them before, I figured it was one of those 'in case of emergency' sort of situations - even when I was a Don."  She shook her head.  "They aren't fond of Italians so I knew they wouldn't want to hear from me, these guys in particular, but there are old debts and they take their honor as seriously as we do.  Blood debts don't wash away from the soil of Erin... that's what her Grandfather use to say at least."

She looked to Tara.  "It took Lucky Lucy a long-ass time to get them to accept the Italian half of her family, including the man she married, but in the end all the good the Italians did her for her kin ... they did come around, eventually.  But, to the point, the first Don of the Ivory Tower had family in Belfast and they are all tied up with the IRA.  She put contact numbers in her journal and while I didn't keep much of what was in there... well, I figured that you might never know when you'd need an IRA contact." 

She shrugged.  "Some of the numbers might still be good... if you want them, they're yours.  You're my family.  Everything I have is yours to ask.  Guns.  Money.  Contacts... my blood if it comes to it, but I think in this case the contact information might prove more useful.  Just say the word and I'll get you a name and a number."

Tara barely hesitated before nodding and giving the order, "Do it." 

And just like that, she was walking out of the office.  The familiar past she was trying to banish from her mind just a moment ago, now had to be embraced.  The IRA wasn't going to be interested in talking to the future Bella Byrne of Race Street Company.  They didn't owe her shit... but Belfast, Ireland was a very long ways from Detroit, Michigan. 

SEVERAL HOURS LATER

Tara and Will's people let them know, a full minute before Bella set foot up the steps, that her cars had arrived.  Bella was in the company of more bodyguards than she'd had since her time as a Don.  She clearly was taking no chances. 

As she came through the door both Will and Tara could see her guards begin talking with Will and Tara's guards - quickly and quietly.  Before the two could see what came of that unknown discussion between security, Bella closed the door and stood there a moment... listening.  When the hall was quiet, as if the guards had moved a distance away or had gone downstairs to the street, she finally spoke.

"I have... considerable evidence that operatives of the Irish Republican Army have your brother."  She walked towards Tara's desk. 

"I got a man on the phone who still has ties with my Father's operations... though he thinks it's the Tower."  she shook her head, "He has no idea that there isn't a Don Luciano anymore and so he was willing to talk with what he thought was a business associate, just like I hoped.  I asked him about the ship, he confirmed that the shipping company who owns it is sympathetic to them and helps them move supplies and men from time to time."

Bella took a seat beside Will, opposite from Tara's place behind her desk.  She was on the edge of her seat, tense.  "I took a chance and asked him if he knew about a kidnapping operation currently happening stateside.  He was really reluctant to comment on anything of that sort... so I made some promises, sizable ones, but nothing I'm not capable of pulling together with a little help from my relatives once this is done.  He decided it was worth his time to talk to some friends of his and, well, that's what took me so long.  I was waiting by the phone."

"When he called back it started out as an Irish history lesson.  He started telling me a story about the troubles they're having over there, namely a series of intense riots that occurred in Belfast, Ireland during the summer and autumn of 1886.  I couldn't figure for the life of me what connection riots, which happened before you and Gavin were born, could possibly have with this... but knowing how these guys are about grudges, I just kept my mouth shut and let him talk."

"He starts out telling me about this young Protestant, an unknown, who gathered up a group of brethren and for some unknown reason picked a house... a house like any other.  It wasn't ever used in the IRA's workings, it never should have been a target of Protestant aggression.  It had been selected for its purpose specifically for that reason and so no one, not even now, can say why he did it."

"But the young man and his group sealed up the house in the dead of night, while the occupants were inside asleep in the basement where they'd been told to stay for their safety during the riots ..."  For a moment Bella could almost smell Martina's burnt skin and her stomach twisted.  "And he burnt it to the ground."

She paused, thinking about just saying the words but compassion or discomfort kept her from just saying it.  She wondered if Gavin knew why he was where he was now and what impact it was having on him and what it might mean for them down the line.  Would this just be another footnote for him, a thing he rolled past like he did most hardships?  Or would this one leave another scar that he allowed so few to really see? 

"One of the fathers, a young man with strong ties to what is now the IRA, lost his three-year-old son in the fire. Fergus Conall - that's his name.  That's our future dead man, the brains of this operation.  He's been hunting the man who murdered his son for 32 years.  He followed him out of Ireland to Canada.  Caught up with him in Quebec after he apparently made the mistake of marrying a young woman and tried to start a family and new life there... but they managed to escape Conall by fleeing into the wilderness of Newfoundland."

If there was any doubt in Tara's mind before, it was certainly gone now.  "It's his obsession and the IRA, wants to see justice done.  So, they sent him a small team last month after he claimed he'd discovered the means to find George Byrne and put him in a grave once and for all.  It's their understanding that George has a child... or as we know, children.  Their team was meant to get an answer from George's children about where George is hiding by any means necessary."

Bella leaned forward putting her hands on Tara's desk, "Since the mission wasn't about ransom, my guess is that Gavin told them the truth about where George is and maybe they're hoping to not go home empty-handed.  I'm sure the IRA will deal with us.  They're probably hoping to turn this whole shitty situation into something profitable.  Will is right.  They need guns and money and will do whatever they can to get it - even giving Gavin back alive and well."

She shook her head grimly, "But this Conall fellow, Tara... I'm really worried about a guy who's spent 32 years of his life engrossed in a vendetta.  And knowing that he's currently holding the person responsible for stealing that vengeance from him, doesn't make me feel any better about Gavin's predicament.  I'm not sure any of the muscle they sent to work for him has any idea what someone like that might be capable of ... I'm not sure I do, but I've got too good of an imagination to sleep well on it for the next two nights."

She could see Tara thinking about it.  Trying to decide what to do next.  Processing it all.

Knowing Gavin might be just down the street, in the harbor on board some boat, was galling.  He'd jumped out of planes, killed half-a-dozen men or more to get to her and here she was trying to feel like making phone calls was helping.  All she wanted to do was run down there and rip apart every ship until she found him... even if that plan was utterly impractical and would most likely get him killed.   

She tried not to think about the state Gavin might be in right now, but that was an impossibility at this point.  Gavin hadn't waited to try and save her from that prison, even though he was still healing from a deadly wound.  Bella didn't know if she had it in her not to be the dragon in this situation.  She prayed something in what she said had given Tara a plan that could be put into action sooner rather than later or this would prove to be the longest two days of her damn life.

Tara sat quietly talking with Will, drawing a sense of calm just from his presence. He was a good man to have in a crisis. Still, her eyes flashed immediately to Isabella when the woman entered her office. Tara listened quietly, her mind racing.

IRA... makes sense. Elite operatives, lots of experience... a team of them might have handled Gavin. 

Riots... makes sense, but...

Shit. Tara felt her blood run cold as the puzzle pieces clicked together.

She was quiet for a long time.

"I own the docks. Every possible resource should be directed to passively gather information there... we should have an ear on every street corner. There's only so many places you could hold someone like this, if you don't have connections here. We'll investigate any IRA connections in Philly, check out their places... talk to hotels and wave some money round... look at abandoned places where no one would bother to go, and we'll see if anything turns up."

Tara looked at Isabella steadily. Fire and ice.

"You can't go rogue on this one, Isabella. One wrong move and this could all go to shit. I know how hard this is for you..."

She paused again.

"If we were going in guns blazing you'd be there, of course. But I know your temper. If these men drag out Gavin and he's half-dead, can you trust yourself from snapping? From giving anything away at all? This is going to be a negotiation first and vengeance second."

"I... want you to think about sitting this one out. On the front lines, at least. I'd like to stash you somewhere with a medical team led by Dr. Santoro. If all goes well, we'll be back and I'll need to turn things over to you to take care of him. And if things don't go well with myself, Will, and our team of snipers, then you and twenty soldatos with rifles are the last plan."

"We'll keep our ears open for more info. We'll set up ten snipers to take them down. We'll have the guns and money ready to go, and Will and I will go to the docks and handle the negotiations. Isabella, you'll be in a support role, ready to deploy either a medical or military response... we'll have a chain of couriers updating you."

At first, it was Tara asking what she wanted to do.  She was asking her to consider her temper and the options.  She needed Bella to measure and weigh the risks involved, both for the team and (mostly) for Gavin.  Then, by the end, it wasn't a discussion anymore.  Bella was given her orders and this was the reality of the situation. 

She'd yielded her right to make calls like this when she'd walked away from the Tower.  While she'd pretended to be a Don today to get information, the truth was that she wasn't a Don anymore.  She didn't give orders... she took them, even (and especially) when the stakes were at their highest. 

She was a Caporegime and one of the Godfather's highest placed women had just told her the part she would play.  More than that... Tara was Gavin's blood.  While it was destroying her to think of her fiancee in the hands of these greedy warmongers and one obsessed madman; it really couldn't be compared to the pain and fear of the woman who had known Gavin since they held each other inside their mother's womb.

Bella's minute facial movements had morphed seamlessly through a variety of emotions as Tara spoke:  serious contemplation, hurt, anger, bitter resignation, and finally acceptance.  She nodded in agreement with the woman she meant to call sister, come hell or high water. 

She didn't need to say how much she feared hating Tara for the rest of their lives if Gavin didn't come back from this or worse if Gavin did but Tara didn't.  Losing Gavin to death would be one thing, losing him to that manner of sorrow though... it likely would be unbearable.  She knew if Tara failed to bring her brother home safely, the woman would never forgive herself and Bella strongly suspected that would be a fate far worse than any she might make empty threats over.

"I pick the Soldato."  She said. 

It wasn't a question.  If she was going to be forced to entrust her future happiness into someone else's hands... even if those hands were family, then she sure as hell wasn't going to give ground on picking her team.  She'd given up everything for a life with Gavin... to lose him while she was standing by doing nothing, would be unthinkable.  If she had to lead a team to avenge the man she loved, Will, and Tara... well then, these Soldato would need to be a very specific sort.  If Tara didn't like her making demands from the bench, well she was right about one thing, Bella was prepared to fight and she needed very little provocation at this point to do it. 

"Done."  Tara agreed, seeming to understand that Bella was desperate for some feeling of control in this utterly powerless situation.

Bella nodded and looked at the floor, thinking.  When she looked up it was to turn towards William. 

'You just can't escape me, can you?  Doomed to follow in the wake of my miseries.  May God bless you, William, and forgive you for whatever you did to deserve this fate.' 

She forced a smile at the thought.  It was a sad thing, dark as the day she and he had tried to make a small bit of light outside of Garrett's home. 

She said the only thing she could bring herself to say to him without breaking her facade of control,  "Bring them BOTH," She glanced toward and indicated Tara ever so briefly, "...home." 

She reached out her hand, brushing Will's cheek with just her fingertips.  All her worry & care for him was silently conveyed in that brief touch.  There was nothing she needed to say to Will about her desire to see him again, that they hadn't already conveyed to one another.  If he didn't know by now just how much he meant to her, then he was the biggest fool she'd ever known.  If it had been anyone else... anyone but Tara and Will, she could never have turned her back on these negotiations.  She would have demanded to have been a part of it.  Be damned the risk.

She turned back to Tara once more,  "I'm going to pick my guys and have them on standby.  Until you need me, I'll be at home ... I've got a Sherlock Holmes story that I still haven't finished."  She gave a dry chuckle as if this were funny for some reason. 

"Call me if plans change unexpectedly.  Otherwise ... I'll be waiting for your orders."  With that, she crossed to the door speaking in a barely audible voice as she went, "Fallirai di nuovo, Caronte, o riempirò il tuo traghetto." 

The IRA was nothing to fool around with. William had never dealt with them himself, but they had been an ever present force in his childhood home. Half the neighborhood thought them heroes and the other half thought they were all the things that went bump in the night. Both sides spoke about them with a sort of reverence. He'd only been talking of the cuff when he'd mentioned them, but Isabella's reassurance was enough to make him feel a quick chill. If even half of the stories he'd heard in his life were true they were now dealing with men who weren't afraid to die, and that made them just a bit harder to negotiate with.

Even more shocking had been Bella's acceptance of a place behind the front lines. It had been a reasonable decision by Tara, but one that would have Bella pulling her hair out in worry and fear. After having a happy life with the man she loved taken away once this whole thing had to be playing hell with her heart. Not being able to do anything about it would kill her. When she'd looked up at him he half expected that she'd want him to tell Tara why it was a bad idea to leave Bella at home. Either that or that she'd be angry that he hadn't spoke up against the idea. Instead, she'd asked for the one thing he couldn't promise. But it was the one thing he HAD to do or die trying. So he'd smiled and nodded his acceptance. He wasn't sure he could find the words to say what he'd wanted but her touch had suggested that she already knew.

Her mumbling on the way out the door caught him off guard, and he found himself trying to piece together what he'd heard. Fail again...fill your boat...damn it he should have been working harder on his Italian. Wait, was she threatening a boatman?

Oh shit. She was threatening the boatman.

He couldn't help but want to laugh even with as deadly serious as this whole situation was. Only Bella would threaten death in the face of such risks and do it with a straight face. With the faintest hint of a melancholy grin, William turned his eyes to Tara.

"Somehow I don't think she's gonna sit quietly. Mind you I don't think she'll cause any trouble if she can help it. For my part I think I'll spend the next couple of days at Dante's that way I'm close by in case anything comes up. I'll also have some of the guys from the gym keep their ears open in case they run into anything. A few of them live in the Irish neighborhoods so you never know."

William leaned forward, letting his worry show for the first time. Will knew that where Bella tended to be fiery in her emotions, Tara tended to put up walls. In a time like this it was a way to get through to the other side, but it tended to tear a person up.

"If there's anything you need in the next couple of days, I'm not far off. Any time, any reason. OK?"

Somehow he doubted she'd let her guard down that easily but he had to give it a try.

Tara tested her poker face as she heard Isabella: "Fallirai di nuovo, Caronte, o riempirò il tuo traghetto." 

A promise for more death... hopefully she was referring to the perpetrators and not herself. Tara nearly said something out of concern, but kept her mouth shut. In the last decade, she'd taught herself a moderate amount of Italian and French and could have a rudimentary conversation in German or Spanish. Linguistics was a nice break for her, and it had its advantages as well in her business. Her language studies had begun as a way to ensure she wasn't being taken advantage of; there had been plenty of occasions where men she hoped to work with would turn and have a conversation in Italian. Her usually move there was to get their attention with Gav-

She was dragged back to the present as if a bucket of cold water was thrown on her; blinking, she listened to Will.

"She'll have to sit quietly. She's family, but she's... compromised. I can't control myself and her at the same, worry about her and Gavin at the same time."

She caught her breath.

What was there left to do?

Nothing.

Her brain raced with things to try to occupy itself, but all her chess pieces had been deployed...

With no work to throw herself into, Tara finally felt the situation hit her. For a moment, she nearly threw herself to cry on Will's shoulder. But she'd heard about him and Elie... for her and Will, it seemed like that ship had sailed. Perhaps if her illness hadn't called her away... but there was no repeating the past. Will was a friend- and a business partner. And you don't cry to a business partner.

Not trusting herself to talk, Tara tried to match his melancholy smile and nodded.

CHAPTER 4

🆃🅷🅴 🅻🅾🅽🅶 🅳🅰🆁🅺 🅽🅸🅶🅷🆃

'In an obscure night
Fevered with love's anxiety
(O hapless, happy plight!)
I went, none seeing me
Forth from my house, where all things quiet be'

Day Two. 

6 AM

"Shhh!"  The priestly lad woke Gavin gently.  "The others aren't awake yet... figured you must be starving after not eating yesterday."  he helped Gavin up who said nothing.  

He held a cup to Gavin's mouth.  Gavin didn't immediately drink and so he offered, "It's just water." 

When Gavin didn't drink again he continued, "I'm sort of in the business of mercy, I can not remove your shackles but I can ease your pain - if you'll let me?"

Gavin eyed the young man's cross again and nodded, this time drinking the water and wetting his chapped lips.  

"I'm Patrick."  He said softly.  "I hope you don't mind hard boiled eggs?  They should help you keep your energy up."

Patrick pulled a small chair over to the edge of Gavin's reach and began peeling the first of two eggs.  "I found them in the ship's larder.  I had two myself.  It's not probably what you're accustomed to but..."

"It's fine,"  Gavin said, testing out his hoarse voice, flexing muscles still sore from his beating and from sleeping on a hard floor with his arms bound behind his back.

"A ransom letter was taken to your sister yesterday by a contact of ours."  He offered Gavin the first egg and continued, "She's had people all over asking questions, but there's not a lot they'll be able to share even if the wanted to.  Still, I think it's fair to say that we picked the worst possible place to stow you."  He smiled.

Gavin nodded.  "You could just let me go.  By the time I get to my sister you and your friends could have this boat out of dock."

Patrick shook his head.  "I'm sorry.  I truly am, but I can not.  None of this was meant to go the way it has... Arthur is dead, you're here in pain... we hoped you'd get to your car and we'd explain things and that we wouldn't need to take you by force.  Fergus said you were the sort to run and that as your father if you did, we'd be years in searching again.  None of us wanted that so we agreed we'd do what we had to in order to be able to ask you questions.  And now we see what we've reaped from that harvest - a terrible mess that I pray we can sort out."

The priest glanced towards Gavin's scars peeking out through the tear in his shirt.  "Please believe that I never wanted anyone to come to harm - well, aside from George, of course.  My Grandmother was in that house... I didn't know her of course, but my father was too sick to come and so I'm here for him.  I told him I'd see it done and then come back to tell him he could go to his own grave knowing the account was settled." 

He tilted his head to the side, "Seems you handled that for us some time ago though.  Strangely apt that God should make the instrument of George's demise his own child considering the nature of his crime." 

He offered the second egg to Gavin and as he chewed, Patrick stood.  "Tomorrow, in the evening, a ship is coming in from Ireland and heading back out in the early hours of the morning.  We mean to leave on that ship after we've traded you to your sister for some supplies, money, and guns that will help in our troubles.  This is almost over now.  Just endure a little while longer.  I'll do what I can to make things easy on you - I'll just have to do my best to make sure it's when Fergus is distracted.  I'll see you after our lunch time."

With that, the priest left.

9 AM

A report is delivered to Tara's office compiled from various eyes and ears all over Race Street Pier.

It's believed six men are fresh off the boat from Ireland claiming ties to the IRA.  One of whom is a priest by the name of Patrick Hannigan.  Father Hannigan is new to his collar just three months.  He's so young that Tara wouldn't even consider dating him.  There's no way he has an immediate tie to the riots of 30+ years ago... unless they affected his parents.

Corrupt Agents downtown confirm that the dead man downtown is named Arthur Murphy, Interpol has him as a known Irish dissident and terrorist.  A quick glance at his alleged crimes suggests Gavin did the world a favor by putting a slug into his heart.  Speculation at the moment was, based on the physical descriptions of those at the scene of the crime, that his younger brother Quinn was likely here too.  Quinn's rap sheet read similarly to his brothers - not reassuring at all.

The Agents also ran down the name Fergus Conall and found very little.  The man, it seems, is a ghost as far as the government is concerned.  No ties to a nation, no family living.  A wife dead in childbirth.  A son dead by fire.  Then... nothing.  A man with, as Isabella feared and suggested, nothing to lose.

Brian MacLaughlin however, that was a face and name her contacts knew well.  The bear of a man had a mug shot which ended up in Tara's morning notes.  A labor leader for some time, he is allegedly associated with a  laundry list of crimes.  His name is associated, however, with a lot more Irish 'victories' than the police have him pegged for and being old enough to be her father said a lot about the respect he probably had among his peers.  Folks who lived and engaged in the 'troubles' of Ireland didn't typically die of old age.  

The final report confirmed things Tara could have easily anticipated... they were trying to learn what they could about Tara and Gavin and anyone associated with them.  They had people asking questions, watching known Race Street properties... and Gavin's apartment where Bella was staying.  Their attempts to do their homework was admirable.  Unfortunately for them, the time for research should have been BEFORE they'd chosen to fuck with her and her family.  There would be few who'd tell them ANYTHING about the Byrne twins and Race Street Company outside of one really important detail - anyone who would even dream of crossing them, was in deep shit.

10:30 AM

A private plane taxied to a stop at the Philidelphia airport.  Down the steps, two suitcases in hand came an unlikely passenger.  Tall and wide, a simple face and kind eyes, smiled at the Italian woman who was waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs.  His dirty overalls and peaky cap made him the perfect image of a midwestern farmer, but he hadn't come to Philly to sow seeds or dampen the earth with water.  

Putting his bags down he pulled the much smaller, sleep-deprived woman into his mighty embrace and ran his fingers through her hair in a comforting fashion as she wept against his chest.  He kissed the top of her dark head but said nothing even though he wanted nothing more in all the world than to tell her that everything was going to be okay.  That he was here now & he'd make everything okay in the way he'd failed to do for her after Elias was taken.  That even though she'd sent him away, he'd never really left her... just as her beloved Wolf wouldn't either.

But Neil couldn't.  He'd given that up for her... and would gladly do it again.  

Pulling back he wiped away with tears with his thick calloused thumb and smiled at her then urged her towards her still waiting for car.