12:10 PM

Kinzie knocked on Will's office door and came in a moment later carrying a plate full of food in one hand and a beer in the other.  She put both down on his desk.  With a smile said softly, "Our people have confirmed a lot of Irish activity going on in the last few hours."

Will sat up straighter and began to eat his lunch.  

"There are a quite a few people asking questions around town about Tara and Gavin.  Word on the street is the Irish are looking for a guy... once they find him they're going to leave.  I wish we had more, but right now... we got nothing.  OH!  And Isabella apparently had a private flight land at the airport this morning.  Some big guy came in from Kansas by the name of Neil Harper."

Will smiled around his sandwich.  Bella had brought Nails out of retirement.  That was good.  She never should have sent him away.  He was good for her.

"I'll let you know if anything else comes up, but, let us know if you need anything.  I'm just outside the door and I'm not going anywhere.  I pretty much live here, as you know."  As always, his loyal friend and associate wanted to make sure he was cared for and to remind him that he wasn't alone.  That she and her brother and so many others were here... if he needed them.  All he ever needed to do was ask.

1:00 PM

Patrick returned with a sandwich and another tall glass of water.  Gavin was awake and waiting.  The priest smiled at Gavin.  "You look a bit better... your color has returned."

He pulled his chair back over and quickly muttered a prayer for the meal in Latin.  

"Your fiancee," Patrick was the first person to acknowledge that Bella was more than 'some piece of ass' he was 'nailing' as the others had put it when speaking about her.  Did he notice the ring?  Did that mean the priest had seen her?  If they had been leaving the ship it was possible that Race Street Associates would see them.  They couldn't be walking around the Pier without Tara's people knowing it - every set of eyes that could be bought here was firmly in the Byrne twins' pockets.

"Isabella."  Gavin offered.  It was time to see if he could get this priest really talking, earn his trust and favor - it could prove useful later.  People relaxed around folks who shared personal details of their lives.  It was an easy observation to make just watching people in bars.  One person reveals a small personal detail and the next reciprocates with in-depth details.

Patrick smiled.  "A pretty name."

"Prettier face."  Gavin smirked.  "So what about her?" he said opening his mouth for a bit of sandwich.  

"Our people around town tell us that she moved about twenty guys into your apartment building late last night.  They had a lot of gear.  You don't think she's going to do something to risk this exchange, do you?"

Gavin shook his head.  "No, but if you double cross Tara, don't expect to get out of Philly alive."

Patrick nodded, "Fair enough.  Trust me, Brian has no interest in doing anything but handing you off and taking what your sister will bring back home.  All of us have people back in Ireland we want to see again too.  Well, most of us."  He sighed.  "Brian is keeping a close eye on Fergus... but if he should find his way in here, just raise a racket so we know.  You don't need to be alone with him.  His soul is heavily burdened and I can't promise that he's thinking clearly."

Patrick fed Gavin the last of the sandwich.  "He needs help, so, just steer clear of being alone with him as best you can."

Patrick stood up.  "I'm on the second shift tonight so... I'm gonna catch some time on the rack before it gets too late.  I'll see you in a few hours."

3 PM

After no reply at the door, Kacey Adams sat down outside in the lobby of The Sewing Factory lofts with a cup of coffee.  He needed to know Tara was okay, that she wasn't facing something horrible alone.  So far as he knew he only had one way to get to her... and this was it.  So, he'd wait all day and all night, if he had to.

4:30 PM

Out one door and in another... Bella's feet ached and her wallet was getting lighter and lighter at each stop.  Neil carried a large box, but he didn't struggle at all.  Linval and Patches kept a watch for the trouble of the Irish or Italian sort.  This might be Race Street Pier, but today it didn't feel like home.  Today she felt like she was a stranger all over again and danger might be around any corner.

Bella stretched out her hand and shook the owner's hand as Neil offered a gift from their box to the bar's owner.  He looked at it questioningly as Bella explained.  A smile grew on the man's face like the last half-a-dozen bar and restaurant owners before him.  To ensure her 'sappy' request was met, she palmed a hundred dollar bill into the man's hand and shook it firmly.

"Eight."  She said as they left.  "This was a good idea." 

Neil nodded, happy he was able to do something to help ease her helpless frustrations.

"Just ten more to go."  With that, they walked on the Pier.

6:05 PM

Gavin could smell food.  His captors were eating again and his stomach complained audibly.  It meant, if his luck still held, that he'd be eating well tonight.  They had to be coming and going from the ship... was that chicken he smelled.  God, he wanted some. 

Gavin worked his hands in the shackles some more.  They weren't perfectly tight, so he had some wiggle room.  While painful, blood could be one hell of a lubricant.  Maybe, if he bled a bit and bent his thumb far enough, he could get a hand free and then this whole stupid ransom business wouldn't need to occur.  Bella and Tara wouldn't be in any danger and they could handle these potato eating bastards together. 

If he could just get his hand free... 

7:30 PM

"Officer Adams?"  Isabella said stopping dead in her tracks at seeing the cop in street clothing waiting for her.  Her bodyguards stayed close, only Neil didn't reflexively put a hand to a weapon.

Kacey put up his hands defensively.

"I come in peace."

"I hope so.  For your sake."  She stepped towards him.  "What do you want?  I'm rather busy right now, I ..."

"I know about Gavin."  He said flatly.

"Tara?"  She asked, tilting her head to the side.  

"She asked me for some help the other day.  I put it together that someone has him and I want to help."

Isabella shook her head no.  "It's kind of you but there's nothing you can do, nothing anyone can do right now."

"For God's sake, I'm not looking to arrest you here... you're the victim!  Let me do something to help her."  It wasn't a tone she expected to hear out of him.  Worried.  Indignant.  Isabella could see his concern was genuine.  If there was something he could do, he might really do it.

"Officer Ada..."  She sighed.  "Kacey."  Maybe it was how kind he was being or a moment of insanity, but she decided to treat him with a bit of warmth.  "There is NOTHING you can do today.  I swear to you, there isn't a resource in this world I wouldn't use to bring him home if I could... I would happily accept your help but right now, there really is nothing.  So, just go home."

"Tell me where she is."

"Her office,"  Isabella responded the way she would to anyone.  "I'm sure she hasn't left it.  When she's stressed she buries herself in work."

"Where?"  

Bella blinked hard.  "You don't know?"

"We don't talk about work much."  He said.  "With you as family she doesn't want to seem like she's using me for my ties to the police to help you... and out of respect, I don't push her either.  We... just, don't."

Bella's mouth hung open slightly in disbelief.  "I'm afraid I can't..."

"Please,"  Kacey said insistently.  "Let me be there for her.  She's got to be a wreck.  Her brother means the world to her.  I just... after she was sick I should have told her I wanted us to be closer.  To start, maybe taking that next step, if I had I could be there for her through this... whatever this is.  I don't... I don't even know how to reach her right now.  I'm out of my mind with worry she's mixed up in something terrible.  I know you know how that feels - to worry for someone you love and not be able to be with them.  So... just, tell me the address.  I'll say I found it some other way."

"You don't understand..."  Bella said.  "I can't.  She's... with the people that Gavin and I work for.  They're ... protecting her."  It wasn't exactly a lie, but if Tara hadn't told him who she was yet, Bella say more. 

"I'm not leaving until you tell me where to find her."

Bella shook her head at the man's stubbornness.  "Then enjoy your sleep here in the lobby Officer Adams because it's going to be a very long wait I'm sure.  Feel free to drink the coffee and eat the donuts I have for potential residents."

With that she walked away, shadowed by her army of bodyguards.

7:45 PM

Tara's office phone rang.  

"Tara?"  Isabella's voice.  "Listen, I know you got a lot on your plate right now, but you need to know... Kacey is downstairs in the lobby of my apartment building.  He's intending to sleep here in protest because ... well, he asked where you were I and I said you were probably still at your office.  I had no idea he didn't know where that was so... I thought fast and told him that actually you were with the people that Gavin and I work for and they were protecting you so I couldn't send him to you."

She sighed.  "He's... worried.  He wants to be there for you.  Maybe, if you're not in the middle of something, you could at least have someone bring the poor guy a note?  Or, if you haven't eaten yet, let him take you for dinner?  If you don't he may become a vagrant in my building and I'd hate to call the cops on your boyfriend."

She chuckled, trying to make a joke in an obviously awkward situation.  

Tara sighed. It was taking everything she had to hold herself together; the thought of sparing time and energy caring for someone else was intimidating. 

"Is there a phone in the lobby I can call?"

A few minutes later, the phone in the lobby rang and someone handed it to Kacey.

"Kace? It's Tara. I'm fine. I'm fine. I just... really need you to go home right now. I'm perfectly safe... Isabella's people are looking after me..."

Not technically a lie. "Race Street" was made of of Isabella's people, after all. 

"... but it's just too dangerous for me to try to go walking around right now. I'll call you as soon as this is settled."

"I'm not worried about your physical safety Tara, though I probably should be."  He ran a hand through his hair.  "I just want to be there for you, in case you want to talk, or don't want to talk - hell maybe just hold you because I don't think Isabella's guys are doing that."  He chortled,

"Damn it, that's what you do when you..."  He sighed in frustration.  This wasn't the moment for that.  

"Look, um... just give me a moment.  Stay on the line!"  He darted over to a magazine rack and grabbed a pile of women's magazines.  He went around the desk and stole the secretary's chair.  Picking up the phone he leaned back like he owned the place.  

"If you're really not going to let me come to you - then I'll be here for you like this.  On the phone.  You don't have to say a word, I'll read to you if you do want to talk.  If you decide you want to see me, all you need to do is ask.  I'll stay right here, all night.  This chair is real comfy and I always wondered about,"  he glanced at the cover of the first magazine and read the headline, "... the fifteen things you're doing wrong on your first date."  

He laughed, hoping to make her smile.

"I've got one job when it comes to you, Dollface, and my stupid fear of making a misstep has made me an utter failure to you in this whole thing.  No one should be alone when they're hurting... it's something I know a bit about.  Let me help you, in whatever way you want, but let be here for you.  You don't have to tear down your walls, just... open a window.  You're might find you're better able to face all this if you have someone supporting you the way you support everyone else."

Tara flashed a pained smile and closed her eyes.

"Kace, I appreciate it. I really do. I'm going to fix this, and then we can talk-"

Her eyes snapped open.

"By fix this, I mean writing a letter. They want me to write a letter. Try to appeal to the better nature of these people who have him."

She easily talked through the lie.

"After that, I need to sleep. Tomorrow will be a big day. When it's over, I'll find you. And then you can make me feel better. After that, if you really want me to open a window... then okay."

"I need to go, Kace. You should go home too. But thank you. Really."

She didn't wait for him to respond, hanging up the phone and forcing herself to study the layout of the buildings and ships around the dock, planning on spots for the snipers to position themselves.

"Tara I... Tara?"  Kacey stood there with the phone to his ear realizing she had hung up.  Wincing, he slammed the receiver so hard against the phone that the bell inside rang at the impact.

"God damn it!"  He stood up in a smooth but violent motion, headed for the door in a huff.  

Isabella's voice called out from behind him, "Adams?"

He stopped two steps from the door.

"I always thought I picked the more difficult Byrne... I think maybe I was wrong."

Adams shook his head, immediately coming to Tara's defense.  "She's just got a lot on her mind right now."

"I really do hope you believe that."  She walked towards him, letting the door to the stairwell close behind her.

He didn't respond.

"She's not pushing you away, you know?  She's not rejecting you."

"Oh, really?"  He turned to look at Bella.  She could see the hurt on his face.

She nodded.  "If she wanted you gone, she has a much faster way of doing it... which strongly suggests that whatever she said to you on the phone just now, she probably meant most of it."

"She says your people want her to write a letter, to appeal to the kidnappers better nature."  He scoffed, clearly, he didn't think that was the way the mob operated.  

"Cut a girl some slack, Adams.  Her brother's life is on the line, she's with people she knows you don't agree with her being around, and they're planning things she knows you want her having nothing to do with... am I right?"

"She could have told me the truth."

"Over the phone?  With men like that sitting right there with her?"  Isabella rolled her eyes and crossed her arms in front of her.  "Come on Adams, surely even a lowly beat cop like you knows we can't trust the phones anymore.  Ma Bell is on the FBN's payroll just like everyone else these days."

Adams sighed.  She was cracking him.  Bella smiled slightly.

"Besides, maybe she needs to keep her world compartmentalized."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"Think of how some women sort their laundry.  Sometimes a girl has to sort her life.  Some days you can deal with the pretty delicates... other times, tough stains and heavy fabrics.  She's neck deep in stains and heavy fabrics today... and when she's done, she's going to need to wrap herself up in something delicate... especially if things go bad.  Question is,"  She stopped just short of arms reach from him.  "Are you man enough to let her do what she's gotta and be there to pick up the pieces when she's done?"

"I want to do more than pick up the pieces!  I want to be at her side.  I want to be there for her through the trials and tribulations and maybe prevent the breaking from happening in the first place."

"You think you're both ready for that?"  Isabella arched an eyebrow.  "Without even thinking about her... are YOU ready to tell internal affairs you're dating the sister in law of a former mafia don and the sister of a gangster?  How's that going to work with your pension?  If you lose your job, how do the bills of your in-laws get paid?  What happens to them if you can't pay their bills?  And what if the side of her that's capable of dealing with tough stains... isn't quite as pretty as the one who enjoys laundering delicates?  Are you ready to possibly lose what you have when you see the truth & when she sees you reacting to it?"

Isabella motioned towards her elevator doors. 

"I've got drinks upstairs.  I'm not going to sleep tonight.  I refuse to sleep in our bed alone.  I should, but I can't.   So, if you want to come up with me, then you can be the last man on my team tomorrow."

"You're a part of whatever's happening then?"

Isabella nodded.  "In a limited capacity, I'm... compromised emotionally.  I put everyone in danger if I'm too close to the center of the action.  But I'm bringing a doc in case anyone is hurt and some guns in case we need to get innocent people out of harm's way.  I can't tell you more than that unless you're saying yes to my offer.  My boss said I could pick who I wanted and I'm offering you that place."

"Tara will be there?"  He asked.

"I can't say.  Maybe."  She shrugged.  "It's not my call."

Kacey stood there silent.

"Tara Byrne has a sea of sharpshooters and savvy rogues all willing to fall on swords for her the second the right word is given.  She's important to a lot of important people.  She's a very special woman.  What she doesn't have a lot of, are genuine, sentimental, middle-aged albeit attractive, white-hat-wearing, honest-to-goodness, good guys.  You're a very rare breed Kacey and maybe that's why you're in the delicates pile?  But I promise you, with a single choice, any day of the week you can be like every other man she knows... if that's who you want to be to her."

Isabella around and began walking to her elevator, not looking back to see if Kacey was following.  He'd either come up and cross the line... or he wouldn't.  That choice was entirely his own and she'd carry no guilt about it either way, but at least his internal war would be less about imagined failings, and instead about what role he really wanted to play in Tara's life going forward - even if he didn't know what that really meant just yet.

10:31 PM

Kinzie peaked her head into Will's office.  "Something's up."

William didn't hesitate to stand up and follow Kinzie out into the restaurant at a brisk pace.  Through Dante's social hour crowd and out the door into the night where Kinzie stood on the sidewalk, wordlessly.

People milled about, going this way and that, enjoying the brisk autumn air.  William looked around for the trouble but saw nothing out of the ordinary.

"I don't see anyth..."  He began but Kinzie held up her hand and indicated for him to listen.  So, William did.  He narrowed his eyes and furrowed his brow.  Kinzie nodded, realizing he was hearing the same thing she and the others had heard. 

"Some play it at the top of the hour and some at the half.  I thought someone was trying to play a joke on me... but no, it's happening all down the pier, every bar, and restaurant that is open this late."

How much do I love you?
I'll tell you no lie

William looked down the street, straining to understand the lyrics to the song being played in no less than a dozen different businesses all down the pier.

"I've sent a few guys around to ask why they're doing it,"  Kinzie said.

How deep is the ocean?
How high is the sky?

"Is that Bing Crosby?"  William asked.

Kinzie nodded.  "His new one, it's called 'How Deep is the Ocean' ... it's a pretty song."

How many times a day do I think of you?
How many roses are sprinkled with dew?

"Not enough to justify this.  Let me know the moment you hear what it's all about and tell our guys to step inside,"  Will said, heading back inside, unable to make heads or tails of the whole thing.  "Just to be on the safe side."

Kinzie nodded and went back to work.

11:01 PM

The first few times he'd heard it, it made him sad. 

How far would I travel to be where you are?

How many times had he wished she'd scratch or break that damn record? 

How far is the journey from here to a star?

She'd played it enough times to drive a man half-mad, ever since she'd decided on it for their first dance at the wedding. 

And if I ever lost you, how much would I cry?

It was amusing as hell that now he was actually thankful to hear ol' Bing crooning.  The fact that it was playing so regularly, it couldn't have been a coincidence.  Sure, popular songs got played in the bars and restaurants over and over... but what were the odds that tonight's most requested song would be the one they were meant to be dancing to a week from tonight during their very first dance as man and wife?  The odds of it had to be pretty damn slim.

How deep is the ocean?  How high is the sky?

It was a message, from Bella, it had to be.  And at that moment, as if by divine intervention, he pulled for all he was worth and his thumb folded inward better than it had all day.  Slowly his bloody hand slid the shackle.  Like a wounded animal Gavin instinctively pulled it in front of himself - cradling it.  His shoulder burned from being in the position so long, his wrist was a mess of scratches slowly oozing blood but nothing he wouldn't recover from in short order - ideally before the wedding.

He willed himself to move, he had to get the other hand free faster than the last one.  Luckily with one hand free and the ability to turn and see what he was doing, he knew it was possible.  

Footfalls.

Gavin could hear someone coming.  He had no weapons, they'd taken his from him.  He had nothing in reach he could use to free himself faster with or subdue whoever was about to walk through that door.  Who would it be?  Was it Father Patrick with his dinner?  The young priest was the most cordial of the men but the bastard would alert the others to his newly found freedom for sure.  He was their meal ticket, without him, Tara wouldn't pay them shit.  And rightly so. 

Quickly he put himself back into position.  He tried to act as if everything was as it had been.  Maybe the Priest would quickly feed him and be convinced to leave him alone again if he played at being tired.

The door opened, but it wasn't Father Patrick who was backlit in the doorway - it was Fergus Conall.  

Gavin looked up at Fergus Conall with a blank stare. With only one hand free, there wasn't much he could do. So he returned to his accustomed position, staring at the man in silence and waiting to see what he was there for. 

Wordless. 

The looming shadow didn't hesitate or try to explain what he was doing or why.  The knife came free of the sheath on his belt with a familiar sound and Gavin knew the score.  There would be no playing as though he was still bound and hoping that Fergus would leave without a fuss.  Gavin strained and pulled his still bound hand, hoping to make the chain come free so the fight would be evened out, but the metal links did not slide as smoothly as he would have liked. 

The swipe was well broadcast as he thought his prey helpless and bound.

His mistake.  

Gavin threw his free hand up to catch the man by the wrist and deflected the blow downward instead.  The knife bit deep into his thigh and the force of Gavin's motion sent the blade skittering across the ship's steel floor.  Fergus snarled something in what his prey could only assume was Irish Gaelic.  

Through the haze of pain, Gavin watched a stumbling shadow quickly come through the doorway carrying a metal pipe.  The priest wasn't quiet about his approach.  Fergus turned. 

Gavin began pulling ruthlessly on his still bound hand until the chain came untangled.  In the meantime, Fergus easily dodged the attack from behind and used his leg to sweep the Priest's feet out from under him.  The priest hit the ground with a wet meaty thump which suggested the reason he'd stumbled through the door was that he, also, had already sustained an injury of some kind. 

It was clear, Fergus had turned on his own.

As Gavin saw the knife appear, his mind and his body seemed to detach from each other.

His body moved instinctively, trying to redirect the knife. With most men, the knife would have moved harmlessly past him or even hit the floor, but Fergus was strong enough to fight it and plunged the knife into Gavin's thigh.

Even as this was happening, Gavin's mind was somewhat surprised by the fact that he was afraid. 

For a decade, he'd not particularly cared about dying. He actively avoided it, of course; life was fun, and he preferred to stick around and help Tara- but the thought of death had never been truly intimidating to him. In many ways, an eternal sleep had sounded tempting. There was a moment, a couple years ago, when Gavin would have risked his life for a song. But as he'd spent more time at Race Street building relationships... and now with Isabella... for the first time since he was a child, he felt an icy fear grip his heart. He kept his poker face, but his motions as he tried to escape were more frantic than usual. 

When he was finally free, he saw Fergus taking down the priest. Reflexes somewhat slowed by his confinement and the wound on his thigh, Gavin went for the knife.

Gavin had an opening.  He moved to stab Fergus in the back, but the older man must have heard him coming.  Instead of finding purchase with the knife's blade in his back, Gavin found himself grappling with the massive Irishman.  

The priest, still bleeding from his earlier brawl with Fergus, reached out and managed to grab the metal bar he'd entered the room with.  From his place on the floor, he swung it at Fergus' ankle and connected solidly.  Fergus went down to the floor, hard, still locked in a grapple with Gavin who was trying his damnedest to get the knife into his enemy while also keeping an eye on that gun just under the left breast of his jacket.

Gavin was atop Fergus.  Gravity was ever so slowly working in his favor. On the edge of his vision, Gavin could see Patrick trying to pull himself upwards several times and fail as the knife descended closer and closer to Fergus' chest.  

Eyes locking on each other, Gavin could see the sheer unbridled hate this man held within him.  If there had ever been anything of a man in that gaze, it likely had died long ago.  Fergus was as much a mad, violent monster as his father, maybe more so... this, the boogie man his boogie man feared, was older now.  He wasn't in his prime as Gavin and Tara's father had been when Tara had struck true with the axe.  

Fergus' arms trembled and spurred on by the hint of success Gavin found a burst of energy and drove himself down hard.  He felt the blade pierce through the cloth and then skin and muscle.  He felt the familiar peel and tear, Fergus cried out in pain and anguish knowing his failure was now nearly complete.

The struggle was less and less now beneath Gavin's grip, a metal cuff still held fast to his wrist, a long chain dangling from it.  Fergus was dying beneath him and would be in no condition to get up and give chase.  In very short order, unless Gavin was wrong, he would be nothing more than food for worms and be joining the son and wife whose deaths had defined most of his whole life. 

Father Patrick was bleeding pretty good from a few wounds, the young priest had dragged himself over to a wall, a smear of red blood marked his path.  He was leaning against it now, his eyes finally coming to rest on Gavin as if wondering what Gavin might do next.

The strength of Fergus was fading fast due to his wounds; Gavin kept the pressure on, slamming his strength down a couple times into the man's chest to continue to wound him. When Fergus was nearly dead, Gavin stabbed him one last time in the heart before taking the man's gun. He held the gun in his right hand, the less injured one, and he kept the knife in his left.

Exhaling and keeping an eye on the entrance, Gavin went to check how badly hurt the priest was. 

Patrick smiled ever so slightly as Gavin stopped at him to check his wounds. 

"Forgive me?" 

His words sought absolution, but his tone suggested a lot of pain and no small amount of fear.  Appropriate considering this fresh-faced young man didn't look like he'd been hurt like this ever before. 

While Gavin was no doctor, he suspected that with medical attention these wounds were survivable even if they did look pretty bad.  Most of the blood was red, not coming fast, and had very little had that worrisome black color that seemed to come from the worst wounds.  Plus he was still awake and able to speak.  Granted, no one with holes in them should go too long without help.  That was certainly a fact that couldn't be ignored.

The ship, however, wasn't silent anymore.  People knew something had happened.  If Gavin was going to be confronted if he stayed much longer.  The decision to stay might mean they kept him to trade with Tara tomorrow... assuming they didn't take things real personal about Fergus.  

The priest's eyes on him didn't suggest he was angry with Gavin or wished him ill will.  Likely if even if Patrick could have stopped him, he wouldn't have.  Though, who could say what the others on the ship... Brian, Quinn, or any of the ship workers might feel.