by Diana Ryan
I nodded but he didn’t see me because his eyes were stuck on Ava.
“Like I said, you are a lucky man, Agent Hill. A lucky man.” Drew got up off the bench. “Come on, Nolan.”
We crossed the street, carefully following Ava into the student center.
From a corner by the front doors she took the stairs to the second floor and wandered into the student lounge. Drew’s phone rang just as we were about to climb the stairs, so he turned and took the call in the lobby. He motioned for me to go on, so I continued to the lounge and took a seat on a leather bench butted up to the wall near the exit. I had to watch her a few moments to convince myself she was fine.
From my perch in the corner she looked like normal Ava in every way I could tell. She had found a seat on a couch, people-watched for a while and then, before I could duck out of the way, she looked directly at me.
Crap!
In that split second I couldn’t help but smile as I felt myself connect with her gorgeous brown eyes. But she wasn’t smiling—she cocked her head and wrinkled up her nose.
It was true then. She had no idea who I was. My heart sunk with a thud.
Ava bent down to get something out of her backpack, and I dodged for the exit. Once out of the room I peered back in through the long window next to the closed door. Adam was there sitting on the couch next to her. Where did he come from? He was smiling and talking with her and then she put her head on his shoulder!
What the hell was going on here?
That rat.
I turned away quickly—suddenly my head was spinning and my stomach started to turn sour.
“Nolan!” Drew called from the bottom of the steps. I turned around. “Come here,” he called.
I took one last look into the room. She was standing now, Adam still on the couch. At least they weren’t touching anymore. I reluctantly walked down a few steps toward Drew. I’d much rather be monitoring what Adam was doing with my girl.
I reminded myself Adam was an expert on what Ava had been through and, as hard as it was to admit, she needed him right now, not me.
“Did you get a gander at your lovely lady? ‘Cause we have a schedule to follow. Gotta get a move on.”
“Hold on a sec.” I quickly hopped back up the stairs and looked into the window one more time. Adam was gone, and Ava was standing up in the middle of the room looking puzzled. I wanted desperately to go in there and wrap my arms around her and kiss her before I had to fly off to Ireland.
My heart ached horribly for her. I had a long journey ahead of me.
With sorrow in my voice I turned back toward Drew. “Let’s go.” I started walking down the stairs when I heard my name again, this time from behind me.
Adam emerged from the door at the top of the stairs and quickly descended. “Nolan! What in the hell were you doing in there?” He came to stop only a foot from where I was standing. He was pissed.
“It’s fine,” I said, backing up a little. “Ava only saw me for a split second.”
“That’s because I plowed into her to distract her!” He was inching closer to my face and I started to feel a little territorial. “You’re lucky I was here or she could have gone into serious shock! I told you—”
But Drew cut him off before he could finish. “Hey, hey there ol’ pal!” he said, stepping in between Adam and me, trying to prevent a fight. “Listen, buddy. No harm done. She’s fine. We need to jet, anyway.”
Adam was acting a little too protective for my comfort and I knew exactly where this was going. I angrily stared at Adam for a few seconds.
“Don’t you dare fall for her.”
“You’re being completely ridiculous, mate.” He held my gaze for a few more moments, and then I turned and walked right out the front door of the building.
Once outside, I turned to Drew, “Why do I get the feeling that guy’s a complete jerk?”
“Oh, I don’t know. He seems okay to me. A little high strung, but okay.” He clicked the car locks open, we hopped in, and headed out of town toward the airport.
It killed me to leave her behind with that guy. There was no way I could be there with her, but something about Greene rubbed me the wrong way. I felt completely trapped. I guess I’d have to believe that Agent Greene was the best person to watch over Ava for these few weeks until we could get enough info to truly take down Myers.
Chapter Four
Tuesday, October 14th
The FBI used a private wing of O’Hare International Airport in Chicago. It was early evening once we arrived from north central Wisconsin, got our bags checked through security, and boarded the plane. The eight-hour flight to Dublin did not feel that lengthy probably due to the fact that they flew us out of the Midwest in one of the agency private jets. Drew and I took advantage of the space, spreading our files out and discussing the mission at hand in comfort and peace.
An hour into the flight Drew was staring into his tablet looking confused. “I’m having trouble downloading the data packet to my computer. Bowman filled me in briefly, but I’ll need some more information.” Then he looked up at me, “I guess you’ll have to give me the skinny, kid. Why exactly are we off to the magical country of leprechauns and whisky?”
“We have been sent to Ireland to track down the family history of Mr. Ethan Myers.”
“YES!”
Drew looked up from his tablet. “I got the downlink,” he said matter-of-factly. I watched him scroll down through the document. “Alrighty, we are looking for any and all info on Mr. evil Myers.”
Drew leaned forward, picked up his coffee cup, and took a long drink, thinking. “Not that I want to complain, because I’m pretty stoked we are heading to Ireland, but why don’t we just get the geniuses over in Info Tech to scour the Internet or something? You can Google anything these days, you know.”
“Of course Info Tech has been digging deep on this one, but somehow Myers has either blocked or pulled all records of his family from all public and private archives.”
“Ah yes. Nowadays it’s possible to wipe yourself from the inter-workings of the web. Sounds like Myers is hiding something, Mr. Hill.” Drew scrolled through a few more pages on his tablet, smiling widely, as if this was very exciting for him. “Although I have to admit it sort of sounds like finding a needle in a pineapple field.”
“Pineapple field? It’s haystack.”
“Needle in a haystack? Maybe where you come from.”
“And where do you come from?”
“I hale from the beautiful white-sand beaches of Hawaii.”
“Really?”
“Born and raised Honoluluan! You should come back with me sometime. You’ll never see more gorgeous half-naked women on the beach anywhere else in the world.”
I smiled at him, letting my mind wander to a tropical scene enhanced with bikini-clad babes.
“You’ll also see ridiculously overweight half-naked women on the beach, but I usually try to avert the ol’ peepers.”
Laughing, I let my daydream go and scrolled through my tablet until I found the document I remembered Bowman showing me a few days ago. I ran my finger down the page. “Here’s what we know—Myers’s grandparents were living in Ireland between 1899 and 1950 and his grandfather, Alec, was a local physician.”
“I assume the agency wants to get into Myers’s head. I’ve seen it before.” Then Drew put on a deep and official voice, as if he was reciting something he’d heard a million times. “If we ascertain his past we are well on our way to deeply understanding what makes Myers tick, in turn we can deduce what he’s planning next.” Then his voice returned to normal. “At least that’s the plan.” There was something condescending about the way Drew said that last part.
“Bowman is confident the solution is in Ireland,” I offered. Was I a fool to believe what Bowman had said? I started to feel anxious, and Ava’s beautiful face popped into my mind.
My heart interrupted, You need to find a way to ensure Myers will never hurt Ava again.
<
br /> “We’ve got to figure this out, Drew,” I said out loud.
Drew noticed the agony on my face. “Hey, Nol, don’t stress.” Then he put on his best superhero voice and raised one hand into the air. “We shall succeed!”
No matter how goofy he was, I knew I was happy to have Drew on this assignment with me. “Thanks buddy, I hope we will.”
“So where does Agent Bowman suggest we start?”
“Bowman thinks we should begin by physically looking through the historical records at St. Patrick’s Cathedral, one of the oldest and largest churches in Dublin.”
“Sounds like a great place to start.” We had a rather large job in front of us.
I spent the rest of the plane ride reading the documents, surfing the web, napping, and listening to Drew play the guitar. He wasn’t half bad at playing and singing, but his lyrics definitely needed some help.
We arrived at Dublin airport at three a.m. Wisconsin time, nine a.m. local Dublin time. We deboarded the plane, and then were taken to a bare and cold room to wait to meet our foreign agency contact. I checked my email and Drew played on his tablet while we waited.
“Who is the contact?” I asked Drew. “Do you know the guy?”
“Nope.” Drew replied, not looking up from his tablet.
A second later the door opened and a rather tall, attractive woman walked in. She had a slender nose centered between two sharp, yet kind blue eyes, and long, silky-smooth, strawberry-blond hair. She wore a low-cut navy blazer, a short navy skirt, and matching high heels. She somehow managed to appear very professional and very sexy at the same time. Drew was just about drooling onto the table.
“Hello, agents. I’m Agent Darcy McCombe.” She flashed a badge and then continued in her local Irish accent. “I am a liaison with the Irish Intelligence Agency. My job will be to provide any local intelligence you may need while on assignment here in Ireland.”
“Wonderful. Thank you very much, Agent McCombe. I am FBI Agent Drew Smith and this is FBI Agent Nolan Hill.”
I almost busted out laughing as Drew introduced us so seriously. An obvious departure from his typical jocularity.
I jumped in with some additional information. “Our mission is to retrieve records belonging to the ancestors of a US citizen who is wanted by the FBI.”
“Thank you, Agent Hill. I’ve been briefed. I have collected a list of places you may want to begin your search. But first, you must be exhausted from your travels. Let me take you to your hotel which will be your home away from home during the duration of your stay here in Dublin.”
Agent McCombe stood up from the table and clicked her heels out the door.
I could barely stand up before Drew leaned across the table and whispered in my ear. “Damn! Did you see the ass on that one?”
“Yeah. Pretty nice.” I hadn’t actually noticed, there were other things on my mind.
Agent McCombe expertly walked us through a series of deserted hallways in the airport until we emerged into what seemed like a back alley. A car with dark windows was waiting patiently for our arrival. We all climbed in, Drew eagerly taking the seat next to Agent McCombe. I shook my head, hoping that Drew’s libido wouldn’t get in the way of our finding Myers’s info fast and getting back home to Ava.
The car drove us down the M1 highway from the airport into downtown Dublin. Drew could barely keep his eyes off Agent McCombe, but my interests laid in the scenery passing by my window. The morning sun was well over the horizon as we entered the city’s center, casting glorious rays of light onto the beautiful cream and red brick buildings that oozed the flavor of an era long ago. Intricate designs had been applied to several of the structures, and the blue street signs were posted not on poles like in the US, but at the top of each corner building.
We had been assigned two rooms at the Arlington Hotel right on the River Liffey. The car drove around the front of the cream building, past beautiful white window boxes overflowing with pink and orange flowers on each windowsill. A dark brick facade separated the front entrance from The Knightsbridge Bar, which occupied part of the lobby. A small convenience store held the rest of the space.
The car stopped near the alley entrance and Agent McCombe got out. “Stay here while I check you in,” she said.
As soon as she got out, Drew leaned right into my personal bubble and whispered, “Dibs!”
I laughed—he knew darn well that I had no interest in Agent McCombe. “Fine, but no hanky-panky until we get some info on Myers.”
Drew smiled widely. “I can’t promise that, my friend.” Still in my space, he held up his phone with a newly added contact—Agent McCombe.
“Dude! How did you do that?”
“Have you no faith?”
“Come on! We have a job to do! Besides, she’s all business, I can tell. I doubt she has any time for an American intelligence agent.”
Drew scoffed. “You’ll be eating your words, young man. You just wait and see.”
The door to the car opened quickly and Agent McCombe stuck her head in. “Agents, follow me. The doorman will bring your bags up.” She took us up the elevator and escorted us to our fourth floor rooms. She kept a solemn demeanor the whole way, and I felt certain Drew would not be successful in his personal mission.
Agent McCombe stopped right in front of Drew’s door. “I recommend you take a short nap and then try to stay awake until tonight. The quicker you adjust to the time change the quicker you can achieve your mission. There is a card on the table inside your room with my agency’s contact information. I will check in with you in twenty-four hours if I don’t hear from you before then.”
“Thank you, Agent McCombe. We appreciate your hospitality.” Drew stuck out his hand and she shook it. He smiled deeply, and I swore I saw a hint of a smile behind her sober face.
Maybe I was wrong. Could he crack this girl?
“Yes, thank you.” They were still holding each other’s hands and gaze.
I cleared my throat after a few seconds. “We’ll be in touch, right, Drew?”
“Ah, right…yes. We will certainly be in touch, Agent McCombe.”
“Farewell, agents.” Agent McCombe walked down the hall and into the elevator, and Drew turned toward me with lights in his eyes.
“Try to get some sleep, Drew.” I patted him firmly on the back as I opened the door to my room. Drew laughed and shook his head.
* * * *
The next morning Drew and I took a cab over to St. Patrick’s Cathedral. We paid the tourist’s fee and entered the historic church. I was immediately overwhelmed by the size of the enormous building. Immense arches of stone supported a vast ceiling that must have been at least a hundred feet tall. Handsome, polished wooden pews proudly stood atop colorful mosaic tile floors. The grey block walls boasted bright flags and placards displaying the bios of past church leaders.
I wandered away from Drew and read a sign indicating that the original part of the present-day Cathedral was first built as early as 1259.
Incredible! The year 1259!
Our country is so young—only a few hundred years. There is no standing structure in America even close to as old as this beautiful cathedral. This place was dripping Irish history from its seams, and I suddenly felt privileged to be standing in it.
Drew startled me when he snuck up and said my name. “Nolan, this is Mrs. Quinn, head of the ancestry department at the cathedral.” There was a little old lady at his side. “She’s graciously agreed to lead us to the record room in the basement.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Quinn,” I said, noticing an annoyed look on her face.
“I’m very busy, young lads.” Using a cane, Mrs. Quinn slowly lead us down a broad staircase underneath the cathedral. “I’ve only a few minutes.”
Drew buzzed in my ear. “At this rate we’ll have to leave as soon as we get to the basement.”
I snickered as we followed the elderly-pace of Mrs. Quinn. At the foot of the stairs stood a row of life-size stone statues dep
icting Catholic saints. Each was up-lit by a dim spotlight, and they were downright creepy gatekeepers to the crypt. The old woman said nothing as she expertly led us through a hallway framed with four-foot columns supporting ancient brick arches every six feet. We continued past poorly lit graves built into the walls and massive stone tombs tucked into corners. An eerie feeling crept across my skin as we walked by the catacombs—a very different feeling from that of upstairs. The long hallway descended deeper and deeper underneath the cathedral.
At the very end of the dark hallway, Mrs. Quinn stopped at a small wooden door bearing a sign that read, Record Room. She pulled a thin blue rope out of the neckline of her shirt revealing an old key on the end. Mrs. Quinn unlocked the door and pushed it open with a creek. A cold and uninviting room complete with stone walls and a dirt floor lay in front of us. A dehumidifier hummed in the corner of the room, and an ancient rectangular wooden table sat in the middle.
“You have been granted thirty minutes. The records are to be kept in perfect order. Use the gloves.” Mrs. Quinn pointed to a box in the corner of the room. “I’m very sorry to leave you, but I’m just so busy.” Then she turned and slowly retreated back down the hallway, leaving us alone with hundreds of years of information. It was slightly odd that we were allowed to peruse these priceless records without a chaperone. My heart leapt slightly—somewhere in this room was very important morsels of information. Something perhaps Myers didn’t want us to discover.
I turned toward Drew, not knowing where to start. He had already opened his tablet and was trying to access our notes. “These walls are thick, and it feels like we’re halfway to hell. I can’t get much of a signal down here.” Drew typed frantically onto the screen.
“I don’t have any reception down here, either.”
I studied the walls of books and had trouble discovering how they were organized. Counting quickly in my head I found there were thirty-two shelves, each with a colorful wooden coat of arms nailed to the top. There were no words or labels on any of the shelves, only numbers on the spines of each book.