“Which of you is the primary driver?” the agent asked.

“I am. Rod Sterling.”

"Yes, sir. And you, Mr. Wyl Sterling, will you be driving?”

Wyl shook his head. “I have no plans to sit behind the wheel.”

"Understood, sir,” The agent busied himself with the paperwork.

“You should add your name, Wyl. What if I hurt myself?”

“Sir?” The agent asked.

Wyl sighed and nodded. “Add my name.”

“Yes, sir. We are bringing your car around now.”

They finished the paperwork and moved to the area outside the terminal indicated by the agent. The Mercedes E-Class arrived, and the gentleman delivering the car helped them with their luggage.

Wyl climbed in the passenger side, the driver's side in the States. “Damn, this is weird.”

Rod maneuvered out of the airport and entered the M18 toward Galway.

“Shit,” Wyl kept muttering as his foot pressed the floorboard on the passenger side. “I’m glad you’re doing the driving. At one point the Marines stationed me in London, but I always rode in the back seat. The other countries I visited drove on the right. In cabs or buses or military vehicles, I paid no attention. But being the only passenger, this left-hand stuff will take adapting.”

“Relax, Wyl. I can handle the driving if you can handle the criminals.”

“Sure thing, babe. You point out those criminals, and I’ll take ’em down.” Wyl’s nervous chuckle downplayed the joke but emphasized the probability.

The commute from Shannon Airport to Galway took an hour. In Galway, traffic added almost another hour to the commute. After what seemed like forever, Rod turned into the parking area for the CityPoint Apartments in Eyre Square.

“Traffic isn’t any better over here,” Wyl said as they parked.

“Many streets here are narrow, laid out before automobiles came along. It makes handling traffic a challenge." Rod pulled into the apartment complex lot and parked. "We made it.”

Wyl chuckled, opening his car door. “You made it. I merely rode along for the terror.”

“Did you say pleasant ride?” Rod chuckled as he got out. “I swear that’s what you said.”

“Uh…yeah. You believe whatever you want, babe.” Wyl opened the management office door and ushered Rod inside.

"Afternoon, gentlemen,” the man behind the counter greeted them. “How may I assist you?”

“Wyl and Rod Sterling. You have a flat reserved for us,” Wyl said.

“Yes, sir,” the clerk nodded. “Our usual check-in time is 2:00 p.m. However, we have your flat ready, so you can occupy it straight away.”

“Thank you,” Wyl responded. “We would like to settle in. The overnight flight combined with the time change wore us out.”

“And you are on an extended stay with us, with an open check-out date. I hope you can give us a nod a few days before your check-out so we can add the flat to our available list.”

“Certainly,” Rod said.

“Gentlemen, your keys.” He handed them each a key card. “You are in flat 220. Up the stairs and to your right. The flat is furnished, including telephone, television service, and secure wireless Internet.” He held out a card. “This is your unique wifi passcode. Alert me to any issues.”

Rod took the card. “We will need to fill the larder. Is a grocery nearby?”

"A supermarket is down the street a few blocks.” He reached into a counter display and retrieved a sheet with the supermarket name, description, and directions. “If you need anything else, I am here to help.”

Wyl nodded, “Thank you.”

Back at the car, they unloaded their bags. “It appears to be a comfortable place,” Rod said.

Wyl nodded. “Much better than a hotel. At least we’ll have a place we can relax.”

They carried their bags up to the flat and into the bedroom. Wyl grabbed Rod and held him tight. “You don’t realize how happy I am to have you with me. While I don’t like putting you in danger, you ease my nerves about our Emerald Mission.”

“Emerald Mission?”

Wyl nodded. “You’re the one who mentioned Emerald Isle. I think we can call this our Emerald Mission.”

“I like your thinking,” Rod said. “And you don’t realize how glad I am to be here.” Rod held Wyl tight. “I prefer an Irish vacation on our terms, but we’re here for a reason. Being together makes me confident we'll succeed. Your experience in Italy is something you’ll never forget. I’m here with you now and will do everything possible to keep you from harm. I’m counting on us growing old together on Sterling Ranch.”

“Me too, babe.” Wyl sighed. He needed Rod’s strength, but he also needed to keep Rod safe.

“After we unpack, let’s go for groceries,” Rod said. “We need to stock the kitchen.”

“Sounds like a plan. Afterward, we can relax for the afternoon and evening.” Wyl started unpacking his bag, stowing things in a dresser drawer. “Tomorrow, we need to connect with the Garda officials and learn the details of our mission from an Irish perspective. We must also contact the U.S. Embassy in Dublin and inform the Ambassador we have arrived.”

“At least we have this evening. We can enjoy our first night in Ireland.” Rod unzipped his hanging bag and transferred the clothes to the closet. “It’s a fabulous country. We’ll explore as much as we can while we’re here. After all, we’re on our honeymoon.”

They stowed the empty luggage in the closet and strolled into the living room. “We should message General Steinburg to inform him we arrived.” Wyl took his iPad from his briefcase.

Rod checked the time. “It’s noon here, so seven o’clock in the morning in D.C. I bet he’s in his office.”

Wyl tapped the on-screen keyboard: Sterlings arrived in Galway. Awaiting further instructions.

A few seconds later, Wyl’s government cell phone rang. “Wyl Sterling.” He listened with a smile. “Yes, sir, General Steinburg. May I put you on speaker, sir, so Rod can also hear?” Wyl pressed the speaker icon on the screen.

“Gentlemen,” General Steinburg began, “I am glad you made it to your destination.”

“Yes, sir,” Wyl said.

“I spoke with Commissioner Seamus Kane, the top-ranking official for An Garda Síochána. As I mentioned in our Pentagon meeting, Ireland boasts a national police force. The entire country is about the same size in square miles as Maine. Dingle, on the southwest coast of Ireland, to Belfast on the northeast coast, is only 317 miles. You Texas boys think nothing of driving 250 miles from your ranch to your place in Kerrville for a weekend.”

“General,” Rod chuckled, “you certainly did a thorough job of vetting us.”

The general returned the chuckle. “Rod, neither of you would be in Ireland now if we didn’t know you. Now, back to Ireland. Commissioner Kane is the top guy and the individual who requested our assistance. He assures me of their full cooperation. Gardaí have been investigating the suspects for quite some time to no avail. They need someone on the inside, and that’s where you two come in.”