"So are you gonna deny it, Donovan?" Steve prodded. "From what I heard, it's pretty clear you're still hung up on Kim."
"That's really none of your business," Shane said.
Steve raised his hands. "Hey . . . You don't want to talk about it, fine with me. That reporter's a pretty hot number though. To turn her down-"
Shane's eyes darkened. "Drop it."
"Okay, okay." Steve hesitated, but added, "I do want you to know that I don't know where she got her information about Jeannie. It wasn't from Kayla or me."
"You sure about that this time?" Shane said evenly. "You didn't go on another bender in the past few days?"
Steve winced at the reminder, but he probably deserved it. He was about to say that when Shane said, "Forget it. I shouldn't have said that. She probably got it from the ISA."
"No, dude. It's okay. I deserved that." Steve shoved his hands into the pocket of his leather jacket. "You know I'd do anything to have never had that happen."
"I know." Shane sounded sincere and they both fell silent for a moment, before Shane spoke again. "I guess we both made a bunch of mistakes. I should've told you everything about the ISA. I just thought there was enough conflict between us that it would just add gasoline to the fire, and you'd been through enough already."
Steve was taken aback. In all the years Steve had known Shane, he had never apologized. Hell, Steve could only remember one time - his keeping secret about Drew and Roman - that Shane even seemed to question something he had done. But then Steve took a good look at Shane, catching the way he did not look Steve in the eye and noting the worn and tired expression on Shane's face.
He's given up, Steve thought.
"Are you having any trouble from them?" Shane asked.
Them? It took Steve a moment to realize that Shane meant the ISA. "Nothing I can't handle. Just surveillance so far."
Shane nodded. "That sounds about right. Keep on the lookout for visits from the gas or electric company. That's how they plant bugs. They'll probably wait for a time when you and Kayla are gone, and will go through the super in the building." He seemed to think for a minute. "They won't try to take you from the apartment, unless it's in a back staircase or the garage. When you're out, try to stick to places where there would be witnesses. That's the last thing Tarrington would want."
"Sounds like you've got experience with this type of thing," Steve said, eyeing Shane closely. It was a stark reminder that Shane had been deeply enmeshed in the ISA culture. He knew the way they thought. No, Steve told himself. He thinks the way they think.
"You know, Donovan," Steve said. "I know you're into this play-by-the-rules way of thinking, but I just don't get why you're willing to let them sell you out like this. I know-" He held up his hands when Shane started to respond. "I know it's just the way it is, but let me ask you this: Why is it that you think other people's families - like Deakins' - are more important than your own? Don't you want to fight to be with Andrew and Kim?"
"Of course, I want to be with them." Shane answered so angrily and quickly that Steve wondered if Shane was even aware of how he had included Kim in his response. Then Shane took a slow breath and said, more calmly, "It's just . . . I told you. I won't ask anyone to take my place." Shane seemed to think for a moment and then asked, "Do you remember when we were in that cave with Jericho, and you wanted to trade him for Marcus?"
"Sure." Of course, Steve remembered. Shane had been reluctant to give up his prize prisoner, but Steve had convinced Shane to do it. "You didn't want to, but I told you how Marcus was my homeboy."
"Yeah, well, that decision was suicidal," Shane said. "Once we turned Jericho over, they could've shot us all on the spot. Not to mention what happened when I tried to recapture him."
"You didn't know about the explosives," Steve pointed out. "And you didn't have to go after him." Steve felt almost foolish as he finished saying that. He was talking about Shane. Of course, Shane would have done everything he could to finish the mission. "Anyway, what does what happened at that camp have to do with anything?"
Shane looked at him closely. "With everything that happened - getting caught in that explosion, losing my memory, even what happened with Kim - I never once regretted that we chose to save Marcus' life. Never once did I think everything would have been better if we'd just let Marcus die. Just like I've never regretted getting you out of Alamain's compound. I could've left you there and things would probably be a damn sight better for me if I had, but I couldn't do that." Shane's voice began to rise. "So, yes, I wish there was a way to fight the charges, but asking Deakins or Nowicki or any of those other soldiers to testify would be just like if I'd left Marcus with Jericho or you with Alamain. And unless you want to tell me your life's worth less than mine, and it would be better that Stephanie grow up without her father than it would be for Andrew, you'll see that." Shane paused and looked out over the water. "It's not that Deakins' family is more important than mine. It's just that his family is important too, and I made all the decisions that led to this, so I'm the one who'll accept the consequences."
In a way, Steve understood. He really did and, due to that, he knew better than to mention his calls to Kentucky for information on the Special Forces unit. But he could not stop himself from saying, "There's got to be some way out."
Shane shook his head slowly as he turned back. "I know you mean well, Steve, but just let it go. You've-" He stopped short and his eyes fixed on something behind Steve. He saw Shane stiffen and his eyes narrow, before Steve turned around to see what had caught Shane's attention.
Some men were coming down the stairs. They looked like dockworkers or fisherman. And they did not look pleased.
"Let's go," Shane said, his voice low. He started to pull Steve away from the approaching men, but stopped.
Too late. Steve had looked over Shane's shoulder and realized the men on the stairs had some friends, who had come up on the other side. Steve did a quick count. Three to the right, on Shane's side. Five to the left, close to Steve. Not exactly the best odds.
"You're that traitor, ain't you," said the man in front of the pack that had come down the stairs.
"Me?" Steve said quickly, before Shane could answer. "No, dude. You've got me confused with somebody else."
"Not you, smart-ass." The man, who Steve figured outweighed him by about 50 pounds, pointed at Shane. "Him."
Steve stepped toward the man. "Hey . . . Lay off. My friend hasn't exactly had the best week."
"Yeah? Well it ain't about to get any better." The man glared at Shane. "My brother's in Kuwait right now and they're sayin' your buddy's hurtin' our soldiers."
"Look," Steve said. "You don't know what you're talking about." He glanced over his shoulder to see that some of the other men were stepping closer to Shane.
"Steve, get out of here," Shane said, his voice grim.
With a shake of his head, Steve replied, "So you can get your head bashed in? I don't think so. You're good, Donovan, but not eight-on-one good."
"It's 10," Shane said, motioning at some new arrivals. "But odds don't really matter. I'm out on bail, remember. Getting into a brawl's not going to help."
Hell no, Steve thought. The way Shane was talking, he would probably just let these guys beat the crap out of him without fighting back. "Sorry, dude," Steve said. "You've got no choice on this one."
Before Shane could say anything else, Steve sent a right cross into the ribs of the man with the soldier brother.
"Dammit, Steve," he heard Shane say, but after that, the only sounds he heard were cries of pain, punches striking flesh, and bodies hitting the dock.
Steve took a punch to the cheek that sent him staggering, but he managed to stay on his feet and duck another punch. He felt something wet on the side of his face and realized the punch had drawn blood. The man must have been wearing a ring.
Out the corner of his eye, he spotted Shane knock one his attackers back with a kick, then sidestep a punch from another, and flip a third that charged toward him. It seemed like he had gotten over his original resistance to fighting just fine.
Whoa! Steve barely managed to duck a punch and decided he needed to focus on his own problems. He rammed a shoulder into one of the men surrounding him. The air rushed out of the man's lungs with a whoosh, and Steve quickly followed with a sharp, short fist to the face. The man went down and stayed there.
"Who's next?" Steve growled. The numbers had thinned significantly. Only two men still faced him. He heard someone moving behind him and glanced quickly to see Shane casually approaching. He must have finished off his opponents. Steve looked back at the other men. "Two on two. Now the odds seem a little more fair."
The two men looked quickly at one another and then turned and ran for the stairs.
"Cowards," Steve muttered as he studied the dock. Several men were on the ground, nursing wounds. The man with the brother in Kuwait was on his hands and knees, spitting out some blood and, Steve thought, also a tooth. Steve had no idea which of them was responsible for that damage.
"You couldn't resist," Shane muttered to Steve.
"You've got to fight back at some point, Donovan," Steve replied. "I'm sick of this lay-down-and-die crap." He walked over to the man and pulled him to his feet. He reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet, and took out his driver's license. "Now listen to me. Whatever you've heard about Shane Donovan is BS. The man's innocent and I don't appreciate goons trying to hurt innocent men. And if you've got any idea about reporting anything to the cops, remember that I've got this." Steve held up the man's driver's license. "I know where you live. And I don't care if it's some other guy that goes to the cops. I'm holding you responsible." See I can think like the ISA too.
"Steve." Shane grabbed Steve's shoulder. "Let him go."
"Yeah, you're right." Steve shoved the man away and tossed his wallet at him. Still waving the license, he added, "Remember what I said."
Wiping away the blood trickling from his cut cheek, Steve followed Shane to the stairs. Shane did not seem much worse for wear.
"You okay?" Steve asked.
Shane wheeled around. "Why the blazes did you do that?".
"I wasn't about to let you get your ass kicked?" Steve just shook his head. "Besides, don't tell me that didn't feel good."
Shane raised his hand to his head, which he shook from side to side. But Steve thought he heard a bit of a laugh and he detected a trace of a smile on Shane's face.
"See, dude, maybe there are some benefits to fighting back." Shane waited for a response, wondering if Shane had gotten the message.
"Don't." Shane had lowered his hand and was looking at Steve again. Any hint of mirth was gone. "I told you, Steve. Just let it go."
As Shane walked away, Steve wiped his cheek again and shook his head. Sorry, Donovan. I'm not letting it go. You've got too much worth fighting for.