The Target

“Can’t means won’t, Doc.” Quinn paused. “I will return to my team.”

The doctor sighed then nodded, picking up the clipboard to make a final note. “I guess you can tell your lady friend you’ll be all hers after next week.” He shook his head and walked to the door. “Qué mala suerte! May God be with her…”

Quinn chuckled at the suave doctor’s drama, but when the door closed and he thought about what was ahead, his laughter died. He had to come back to the team. His plans did not include staying at home and letting Hannah support him. Quinn didn’t care what the doctor said—there was no other option.

His daily routine of meds and therapy began shortly after that, and he didn’t return to his room until after lunch. Hannah’s chair was still empty.

At six that evening she still hadn’t arrived. He was trying to decide if he should call her when the door to his room opened. Assuming it was her, he smiled in anticipation.

Mark Baker and two more techs stepped inside instead.

“Hey, guys…” Quinn struggled to get up, but they all waved him down, each coming closer to shake his hand and say hello. Since his hearing had returned, the whole team had been in at one time or another, but surprisingly, Baker had been his most frequent visitor. They’d developed an uneasy friendship, partially, Quinn surmised, because he was now off the team, at least temporarily. His expertise and experience no longer posed a threat to the young tech.

Quinn watched the men situate themselves around the room, then he noticed they all looked tired and dirty. They’d obviously been on a call, but the usual, boisterous aftermath that followed a situation was missing.

“You guys been out?”

Mark sat down in the nearest chair and answered Quinn’s question with a nod. “Yeah—some kids over on Toulouse got their school computers cranked up and learned how to build pipe bombs. They planted five of them in and around the mailboxes in their neighborhood and Metro called us. We went crazy trying to retrieve the damn things before somebody found one and blew off their freaking hand.”

Quinn shook his head in commiseration as the other techs added their comments about what had happened. He listened, but all Quinn could really think about was Hannah. Where was she? Did her absence have anything to do with the men’s subdued attitudes?

When the conversation lulled, he spoke casually. “Hannah go out on this?”

They took too long to answer. A warning bell sounded inside Quinn’s head.

“She was there.” Mark shot a look toward one of the other men and a silent communication took place. Quinn had sent enough signals like that himself to know something was up.

“What happened?” he asked. “Is she hurt?”

“She’s fine,” Mark said quickly. “Just fine. But we had a little problem….”

“What kind of little problem?”

Mark glanced again at the others.

“Just tell me what happened, dammit.” Still in his bed, Quinn managed to make the younger man jump.

“She dropped one of the pipe bombs,” Mark blurted out. “But she’s okay—she’s okay, I swear.”

Quinn’s heart stopped for a single moment, then it restarted, the rhythm faster than it should have been.

“I take it she wasn’t holding it at the time?”

Mark shook his head. “No, no… The Andros had it.”

The men looked at each other uneasily. They were a team, and teams had rules, one of which stated you supported the other members, regardless. But this was different. Quinn had to know more, whether they wanted to tell him or not. He swung his legs to the edge of the bed, but as he stood, a quick knock on the door startled them all. It opened and Bobby was poised on the threshold, his expression grim, his demeanor unhappy. The men took one look and started edging past their boss, their muted goodbyes ignored by Quinn and Bobby both.

With the room empty except for them, Quinn stared at the other man, his mouth suddenly dry. Obviously there was more to the story than Mark had revealed. “What is it?” he asked without preamble.

“Sit down,” Bobby said, pointing to the bed. “We gotta talk.”

HANNAH SAT IN THE DESERTED bullpen, her head on her desk, her eyes closed. She was completely alone and the lights were off because everyone else had gone home to hug their kids and make love to their spouses.

She knew that’s what they were doing because that’s what she wanted to do. Almost getting blown up tended to bring out that need in a person.

She’d made a very stupid mistake tonight, and if things had ended even slightly differently, someone would now be knocking on her mother’s door to tell her that her daughter was dead.

Hannah lifted her head and slowly banged it against the scarred and pitted wood. How could she have been so stupid? How could she have been so blind? In her time as a tech, she’d never come so close to making such a major blunder.

After the first bomb had detonated, she’d looked at the pieces and assumed the devices were all identical. X-raying the homemade disaster, she’d seen the same thing she’d seen in the initial bomb, which confirmed—or so she’d thought—her assessment. She’d explained the setup to the other techs, then sent in the Andros to pick up the sawed-off aluminum baseball bat, lying next to the mailbox.

Unfortunately two different kids had made the bombs, and the second teenager had been smarter than the first. He hadn’t inserted an ordinary fuse; he’d used negative pressure instead.

She’d misread the X ray. And then she’d mishandled the robot, her hand shaking from exhaustion. The machine had dropped the device. If the bomb had been a fused one, as she’d thought, it probably wouldn’t have mattered. But it wasn’t—the fuse was a decoy. The metal cylinder had landed on its edge and the plastic cap had flown off. The bomb had been aimed away from them, but by then it had hardly mattered.

It wasn’t the kind of mistake someone with her level of expertise should make. It wasn’t even the kind of mistake a rookie should make. One of the first things even a kid just out of bomb school knew was that each device had its own render-safe procedure. If he wanted to, Bobby could fire her and she wouldn’t blame him, either. She couldn’t believe it. What a mess…

She was too tired. Too worried. Too crazy. She’d been lucky as hell not to have injured herself or someone else on the team. She’d lost her focus.

She could have blamed tonight on the fact that she was grieving for the kids, but she would only be partially right. She was grieving—but not just for them. Tonight’s emotions—and the sorrow she’d been feeling since the funeral—were also for herself and Quinn. Their relationship was over, and the day she’d fled the cemetery she’d known that. She’d only been staying with him because she couldn’t leave. Not while he was still in the hospital. Distracted by that reality and full of sadness because of it, she’d nearly gotten in serious trouble tonight.

Dropping her head back down on the desk, Hannah closed her eyes and cursed.

“I DON’T WANT TO SIT DOWN,” Quinn said. “I want to know what’s wrong.”

“Hannah screwed up tonight,” Bobby said bluntly, falling into the chair beside the bed. “She hasn’t got her mind on her job and she damn near blew us all to kingdom come.”

Quinn sat down.

“Metro called us because the bombs were all inside or close to mailboxes. It seemed like a simple enough problem and we went straight out.” Bobby shook his head. “Hannah was on her way here but she insisted on going with us first. The other guys have been trying to take up the slack, but with you gone, too, it’s been hard.”

Quinn nodded. “Go on.”

“I intend to, but let’s get one thing straight before I do.” He waited until Quinn nodded again. “What I have to tell you never leaves this room. And I mean any of it. This is just between you and me, and if you ever tell anyone we had this discussion, I’ll call you a liar.”

“Fine, fine,” Quinn said impatiently. “Just go on—”

“Give me your word.”

“You have it, okay? I swear I’ll never tell anyone. Now, what in the hell happened?”

Bobby gave him the details the men had left out, his face etched with anger and worry. “It shouldn’t have gone down like that, Quinn.” He shook his head. “She botched it, man. Big time.”

Quinn defended her automatically. “Working the robot isn’t Hannah’s usual thing, Bobby.”

“I know that, but Sid’s out this week, too. His wife’s in the hospital with kidney stones and he’s stuck with his kids. Grandma’s on the way, but in the meantime, we had five pipe bombs to deal with. I needed all the extra hands I could use, so when Hannah said she’d help, I said fine. But she aimed that Andros right at us, man.”

They sat in silence for a moment, then Quinn spoke, his emotions in a tangle. “This isn’t good.”

“No, it’s not. It’s not good at all.”

Hobbling slowly, Quinn crossed the room to stare out the window at the parking lot. He was on the fourth floor, but the fog was so thick he couldn’t see the cars.

“This isn’t the first time she’s screwed up, Quinn.”

Something tightened inside Quinn’s chest. He spoke without moving. “What do you mean?”

“She missed a detail last week in a report for Washington on one of those church bombings last summer. I caught it, but that’s just not like Hannah. When I mentioned it to her, she got real defensive.” He hesitated, then added, “She lost some evidence the other day, too.”

Quinn turned around.

“It was just some minor stuff, but next time, who knows?” Bobby’s dark eyes were filled with concern. “The truth is, I’m worried about her, Quinn…. I’m worried for her, too. Her mind’s not on her job.”

“It’s on me.”

“That’s right.” The other man came to Quinn’s side. The light from the window glistened off his dark features. They stood together in silence and stared out at the fog.

After a while, Bobby spoke. “I was real upset when you got that promotion instead of me. I thought I was the better tech and I deserved it more. I even told myself there was some kind of racist crap going on.” He shook his head. “But right now I’d dump the damn promotion any way I could. To the first man who’d take it.”

Quinn spoke calmly, but he didn’t feel it. “Why is that?”

“Because I gotta do something I don’t want to do.”

“And that is?”

“I’m thinking of firing her, Quinn. At the very least, suspending her.”

Quinn tried to hide his shock, then gave up. He stared at Bobby in amazement. “Don’t you think that’s a little extreme? She made a mistake—we’ve all made them at some time or another. That doesn’t mean she’s not a good tech.”

Bobby ignored his comments completely. “Are you going to quit or are you coming back?”

The question was abrupt and put Quinn on guard. He’d told no one, not even Hannah, that Barroso had warned him he might not be able to return. To tell someone, to voice the words, gave credence to the option and Quinn couldn’t do that. “I plan on coming back,” he said carefully. “Absolutely.”

“Then both of you will be on the team again.”

Quinn had no idea where Bobby was going with his questions. His uneasiness grew. “Yes, but—”

“There are no buts about it. Lives are on the line, here, Quinn, and Hannah’s put them there.”

“She made a mistake, for God’s sake. A big one, yes, but she’s only human. It’s not like she dropped a pound of RDX in the middle of the bullpen—”

“And that damn well might be what happens next!” Taking a deep breath, Bobby started over, his voice softer. “Look, Quinn, the truth is she’s never going to watch you go into another building without expecting it to blow.” He held out his hands. “Put yourself in her place. Would you be able to let her go out again and not worry? Could you focus on your business and not hers?” His eyes narrowed and he shook his head. “It’s only a matter of time, Quinn, before disaster strikes again.”

Bobby didn’t know it, of course, but Quinn had already put himself there. Hannah could have ended up in the hospital instead of him and that frightened Quinn terribly. The realization had made him even more determined not to leave orphans should that happen.

But he hid all that. She needed defending. “She’s a professional,” he said. “Once I get out of here, she’ll be fine. Things will be just like they were before. We managed okay then.”

Bobby kept his expression under control, but his fingers gripped the windowsill so tightly his knuckles paled. “It’s never going to be the same, Quinn. You’ve been injured severely and that changes things. As long as she loves you, she’s going to worry, and as long as she’s doing that, her life—and everyone else’s—is in danger. If you don’t care about that—”

“You’re out of line,” Quinn warned quietly. “You know I care—”

“Maybe, but I also know how these things work….” Bobby’s eyes locked on Quinn’s, regret filling their depths. “I value both of you, Quinn. You and Hannah are the backbone of this team, but I’ve got to take some action.”

“Then suspend her if you have to, but don’t fire her.” Quinn clenched his jaw. “She worked hard to earn her position and she’s damn good at it. The team needs her.”

“They need the Hannah they had before you were injured. Not the one they have now. I was hoping you could help me fix this, but I see now that’s not going to happen.”

Bobby’s attempt at manipulation ignited Quinn’s anger. “If you expect me to do your dirty work, you can forget about it,” Quinn said. “I’m not asking her to leave. She’d hate me forever. Besides that, she doesn’t deserve to be fired. She’s an excellent analyst and you know it. You’d never be able to replace her.”

“That may be true. But I’m in charge of the team now—the whole team—and I have to make decisions that are the best for everyone. C’mon, Quinn, can’t you at least say something to her?”

Quinn shook his head. “No way. It’s not a good decision.”

Bobby started to speak again, then he broke off, clearly seeing the uselessness of his words. Quinn said nothing at all. Bobby stared a little bit longer, then left.

Quinn stood by the window, frozen with anger and confusion. A few minutes later, he watched Bobby exit the hospital downstairs and cross the parking lot to climb into his SUV.

Quinn’s muttered curse filled the hospital room as he swung away from the window. Late that night, when everything was quiet again, another emotion replaced the defensive anger he’d felt for Hannah. Quinn lay in bed and felt fearful.

What if he was wrong?

What if Bobby was telling the truth? What if Hannah continued to work and someone got hurt or even killed?

The same guilt Quinn felt now—for failure, right or wrong—would then be hers, as well.

THE NEXT MORNING, QUINN made his way down the hall for his physical therapy, his mind on what had happened the night before. He’d still heard nothing from Hannah and that worried him as much as anything. An hour into the session, he was almost finished on the treadmill when suddenly his leg went out from beneath him. He was suspended for two seconds, then he crashed down—hard. The moving belt grabbed him and tossed him onto the floor. He gasped and swore as pain flooded his body. The last thought he had before fainting was that he’d dislodged the pin in his thigh.

Thirty minutes later, back in his bed, bruised and sore, he tried to rationalize the accident. He’d lost concentration and fallen down. Big deal. It didn’t mean anything.

Did it?

Hannah arrived late that afternoon. He waited for her to say something about the call-out that had gone so wrong, but she kept her silence, her demeanor more subdued than ever. By the end of the evening, when she’d still said nothing, Quinn knew that could only mean one thing: she didn’t want him to know what had happened. He couldn’t press her and embarrass her more. When he urged her to go home and rest, she kissed him and left without argument.

Quinn watched the door swing shut behind her, one question filling his head—what in the bloody hell was he supposed to do?

If he asked her to quit the team and she did, she’d resent him the rest of her life. If he’d ever had any doubts about that, they were gone. Seeing the guys and hearing about their call-outs over the past few weeks had taught Quinn that lesson. Hannah wouldn’t be able to send him off to work every day and not go herself. She’d end up hating him.

He could say nothing and let Bobby fire her, but what kind of man would do that? Hannah had worked as hard as Quinn had to get where she was. If she ever learned he’d known about this and didn’t warn her, she’d leave him.

Of course, if Quinn couldn’t go back, none of this mattered one way or the other. He’d be forced to stay at home and watch her go to work every day. His only contribution would be his disability checks. Would they even be enough to support her and the children she wanted so badly? How would Hannah feel being tied to a man who couldn’t do his job? Would her love turn to pity? He had no intention of seeing that happen, but what if…

It was a lose-lose situation. An answer didn’t exist that wouldn’t hurt one of them.

An ache went through Quinn’s heart that made his physical pains feel like mere twinges. One of them had to give up the job.

The weekend came, and he still hadn’t told Hannah he was scheduled to be released. As she prepared to leave Sunday, he pulled her to him and held her close. The smell of her skin was as heady as always. For a moment, all he could think about was how to prolong the inevitable. Then he accepted the fact that he had no choice, he had to say something. He looked down at her and tried to etch the moment into his mind, telling himself the words to convince her would come to him. He’d been able to find them a thousand times in the past—why wouldn’t he find them now?

“I love you, Hannah.”

He wondered about the sadness in her eyes, but dismissed it when she reached up and put her hands on his cheeks. “I love you, too, Quinn. And that’s why we’ve got to talk….”

QUINN AGREED INSTANTLY and led her toward the edge of his bed, tugging her hand until she sat down beside him. Hannah’s heart stung with a physical pain. In the past, she’d thought people were exaggerating when they talked about heartbreaks, but now she understood.

Lying in her bed the night before, listening to a hard rain pound the roof and thinking about the funeral, she’d decided the time had come. She had a dream, and if she wanted to fulfill it, then she had to set the plans in motion. She had to. No one else was going to do it for her. Not even Quinn, as much as he loved her and she loved him.

As she wondered how to explain this to him, he surprised her by speaking first. “I’m glad you want to talk because I want to, too. I’ve been thinking a lot about everything that happened. We have dangerous jobs, Hannah, and this has made me aware of that fact even more than I was before.” He flicked his hand toward the hospital bed and all the medical equipment. “I ended up here…but it could have just as easily been you.”

“I know that,” she admitted. “In fact, I had my own realization…at the funeral. When I was sitting there, staring at those little coffins, I saw the truth. It could have been you lying up there at the front of the church instead of those poor kids.” She took a deep breath. “I knew what I was getting into when I joined the team, but…” She shook her head. “I don’t think I really understood until that moment.”

He had twined their fingers together, and in the silence that followed he looked down at their hands. When he didn’t answer or say anything, she reached over with her free hand and gently touched his cheek. “Quinn?”

He raised his eyes to hers, and something tightened inside her. She recognized the feeling as a warning, but for what, she had no idea.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you for the past two years, Hannah. Our careers aren’t like anyone else’s,” he said. “And I’m not just talking about danger. What we do is incredibly intense. We have to be one hundred percent ‘on’ all the time. We can’t accomplish what we need to with our brains half engaged—I’ve had friends who did that, and they paid for it with their lives.”

“I understand that…now,” she said quietly.

Since the accident, his voice had become harsher. The new tone made his next words sound all that more ominous.

“You say that, but do you really? I’ve been told your mind isn’t on the job. You’ve been distracted by me and everything else.”

She knew immediately where he was going and flared, not because he knew but because someone had taken it upon themselves to inform him. “You’re talking about the pipe bombs, aren’t you? Who told you?” When he didn’t answer—and she knew he wouldn’t—she went on, hiding her anger. “I made a mistake, Quinn, and I know it. I was waiting until you got stronger and then I was going to tell you about it myself. But I can promise you it won’t happen again.”

“You can make that kind of promise, sweetheart, but bad things can still happen.”

She’d given the accident a lot of thought, and when she’d calmed down, she’d come to see that was exactly what it had been—an accident. Everyone made them; she’d just have to be more careful. She looked at him levelly. “I was tired and I screwed up. I made a mistake, but that’s all it was.”

He stood suddenly. She did the same, and he reached out to grip her shoulders. Normally his touch would have brought heat with it, but this time a cold distance rose between them. Hannah shivered as another bad feeling rippled down her back.

“It was more than a mistake, Hannah. You could have been badly hurt…or even worse. If we’re going to make this work, then something has got to change.”

“Like what?”

He hesitated, then spoke carefully. “Maybe it’s time for one of us to leave the team.”

Her vague anxieties suddenly crystallized into something hard and cold. It lodged itself in her chest as she understood what had happened. Bobby was the one who’d told Quinn about the incident and Bobby was the one who’d put this thought in Quinn’s head. That fact registered, then fled. Bobby wasn’t the important one here. “Is that what you think should happen?”

“We’ve worked together for two years,” he hedged. “I’d like to think we could continue. But…”

“But this makes you more sure than ever that we shouldn’t have a family.”

He didn’t have to answer. The truth was in his eyes.

In the hall outside, a cart rumbled past. Dinner had arrived and was being distributed. Hannah felt nauseous as the smell of food wafted into the room.

Quinn stared and waited for her to say something.

“I can’t do this any more,” she said abruptly, rising and stepping away from him.

“That’s fine,” he said. “We can talk later if you like—”

She shook her head. “That’s not what I mean.” She waved her hands between them. “I’m talking about this. I’m talking about you and me. I can’t do it any longer.”

A stunned expression came over his face. “What are you saying?”

“It’s over between us, Quinn. I want out.”

He tried to reach for her, but she dodged his touch. He blinked, then spoke. “I understand you’re upset. We’ve been through hell, but Hannah… C’mon. You’re not thinking this through. We love each other. I need you and you need—”

She interrupted him, her voice like broken glass. “I know what I need, Quinn. And it’s not the same thing you do. The real issue isn’t about what we do or where we work, it’s about who we are. And we’re two very different people who want very different things. I knew that a long time ago, but I loved you so much I thought I could change you.” She took a deep breath. “I was wrong.”

“This isn’t about our differences. This is about life and the realities that are out there. I’m not talking about having a family or children—”

“It’s all connected, Quinn.” She looked at him, pain filling her entire body. “I can’t believe you don’t understand that, as smart as you are about people.”