“You had a lot riding on the success of that mission. Beyond rescuing Connor.”
“Like what?”
“A promotion.”
“I don’t care about promotions, only about catching bad guys.”
Which was one of the reasons the Bureau had been priming her to head her own counterterrorism team. “Our taskforce was a test run for you, for the Feds to see if you could handle your own unit.”
“Yes, I remember that.” She nodded, her eyes tracking over to his monitor. “I had so many plans, so many ideas I wanted to see implemented to stop terrorism.”
“Two hours after we rescued Connor, 12 September cells hit a mall in Milan, killing twenty people, eight of them Americans, and injuring a dozen more. The next morning, they blew up three more across Europe. You blamed yourself, believing that if Quan had lived, you might have gotten the information out of him to stop those attacks.”
She slowly rose from the bed. “But he died and I never had the chance.”
Colton waited, hoping she wouldn’t make him say it, that her brain would free itself and let her remember the rest.
It didn’t and she looked over at him with a raised eyebrow. “What else?”
Why couldn’t the truth ever be simple? “Overnight, you went from setting the world on fire to wanting to quit the FBI.”
“I blamed myself for Quan’s death, even though you killed him?”
Not exactly. “I convinced you not to quit the Bureau. You had the chance to save so many more lives, especially if your bosses believed Quan’s death was my fault.”
She took a step back and he saw gears clicking into place. “Believedit was your fault…? What are you saying?”
“I’d lie a thousand times over to protect you, Shel. You know that.”
“Oh my God.”
The horror in her eyes made his guts crawl. It was all there—the realization, the understanding, the sudden guilt. She blanched and staggered slightly.
Colton reached for her, but she was too far away. “It was your first kill. You saved me. Saved the rescue mission.”
“Ishot him?” It was like she had to convince herself all over again. “The man I had been hunting all that time, who had the information I needed to stop 12 September cold.I killed him?”
He had to make her understand that their secret had been in her best interest. “You believed your career was over. That itshouldbe because you screwed up so badly, which was total bullshit. You thought all the goals you’d been working on were down the drain.”
She staggered back another step, her hand going to the rolling tray to steady herself. “So I let you take the blame?”
“You didn’tletme. I insisted. You’ve always followed the rules. You don’t lie or cover things up. The thing is, I’m pretty good at both and I convinced you that your future with the FBI as a team leader didn’t have to be over because of one stupid terrorist.”
She shook her head adamantly. “I would never do that—cover up the truth. I would never file a false report to save my career.”
“Quan deserved to die. You and I both know it. Even if he’d lived, you wouldn’t have gotten any intel out of him in time to stop those bombings. I’m as sure of that now as I was then.”
“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.”
It had taken hours of arguing on his part and then he’d gone over her head and made a deal with the counterterrorism director. “I’m pretty persuasive when I have to be.”
Shelby shuffled over to the chair near the wall, half-dragging her leg, but as always, determined to do what she wanted. She slumped into the chair and covered her eyes with her hands.
Colton bit his bottom lip and focused on that pain rather than the white hot poker in his back as he hauled himself up to a semi-sitting position. “You went on to prove me right, you know. You’ve stopped a dozen different killers since that night. You did the right thing, letting me take the rap.”
“The anonymous report,” she said, pulling at an invisible thread on her shirt. “I filed it, didn’t I? To try to fix things.”
“Most likely.”