Steve jammed his hands into his pockets and stepped forward in front of Kayla when he realized that Tarrington had entered the room. Of course the man would not let this go. He would have to have some last word and probably make a few more threats.

Unable to stop himself, Steve growled, "This is a private party, Tarrington. Family and friends only. You ain't family, and you definitely ain't one of our friends."

Tarrington responded with one of those smug looks that Steve so desperately wanted to wipe off his face. "Soon enough, Mr. Johnson. I just wanted to congratulate Shane." The smug mask fell a little and Steve could hear some bitterness in Tarrington's voice as he looked at Shane. "Good play, old chap."

Then, just as Steve knew he would, Tarrington brought out the threats. Damn Feds. They are so predictable.

"There will be consequences, of course," Tarrigton said, turning his gaze on the others in the room. "You were warn-"

"No, there won't," Shane said, stepping forward until he was eye-to-eye with Tarrington. "This is over, Tarrington. You've threatened my family and the people I care about for long enough. You could do that while you had charges hanging over me, but if you do one thing to hurt anyone in this room or anyone even in Salem because of what happened today, I will make sure every reporter in the country knows the ISA is behind it within hours."

If this is a bluff, it's a damn good one, Steve thought. He almost laughed, but he wanted to make sure he caught every word that Tarrington said.

Obviously, Tarrington thought Shane was bluffing, because he responded with an amused chuckle. "You would never betray the agency, Shane. We both know that."

"If the agency harms innocent men and women for political retribution, going public would be saving the ISA, not betraying it." Shane sounded deadly serious. "You already used my children as pawns when you knew they were in danger. Cal Winters was out there and you played games with my family's life." Shane's eyes narrowed. "I should rip you to shreds for that-"

Tarrington backed a step away. "Now, now, Shane. Don't do-"

Steve had to grin at the fear in Tarrington's eyes. He doubted anyone in the room would stop Shane if he beat the ISA Chief silly.

"I said I should," Shane said evenly. "But I'm willing to let you walk out of this room with your limbs intact provided you swear to leave these people be. They beat you. Accept defeat graciously, because this ends now." When Tarrington seemed to hesitate before responding, Shane added, his voice low and threatening, "Don't test me. I'll have no compunction about bringing down a third corrupt ISA Chief who abuses his power by harming innocents. Think about what I did to your two predecessors. Remember Nickerson and Vaughn. I brought them both down; I'll do it to you."

For a moment, Tarrington's and Shane's eyes locked. But only for a moment. Then Tarrington blinked and looked away.

"Very well . . . you win," Tarrington said, saying the words as if they had to be torn from him. But as Steve expected, the man would not just walk away quietly. He needed to have the last word.

Keep talking, Chief, Steve told himself.

"You should be complimented for out-maneuvering us," Tarrington said. "Though I am surprised. I would never have expected you to have pulled this rabbit out of your hat. Yesterday, you were quite convincing when you said you were taking the deal."

This time, Shane gave the amused response. "Yesterday, I was quite sincere. You don't seem to understand. What happened out there had nothing to do with me." Shane shook his head. "I was just as blind-sided by all of this as you were. You should give credit where it's due."

His gaze turned to Steve. Tarrington's eyes followed and his expression turned to a scowl.

Steve pulled his hands out of his jacket pockets and held them up. Pain radiated from his shoulder, but he refused to show any sign that he was hurting as he gave Tarrington a mocking grin. "Guilty as charged."

Come on, Chief, give me everything you've got, Steve thought.

"I should have known," Tarrington muttered.

Steve glared back at Tarrington, the look in his eye at odds with the light, almost-amused tone he used. "Well. . . . I don't take too kindly to threats against my friends and family either," Steve said. "That's one way the Captain and me are alike."

Steve looked into Tarrington's eyes and he could see the loathing and fury that the other man was fighting to contain. It looked like his entire face was clenched so tight, it might break.

Finally, with a jerk of his head, Tarrington looked away. Then, in a low voice, he said, "I should never have had them rescue you."

Ah, time for the truth to come out.

"How about we put that in honest terms?" Steve shot back. "Let's not pretend my rescue was ever part of your agenda. What you mean is that you shouldn't have added me as a secondary objective so you could use that to railroad Shane when you needed political cover?"

Tarrington snorted. "I might not put it precisely in those terms, but that's close enough. You always were more trouble than you were worth, Johnson. I almost regret that Shane proved too competent on that mission. We could have just as easily obtained the virus antibodies from your corpse."

"You son of a-"

Tarrington cut Steve off. "I must say that Alamain did have one thing right. You really do have an incredibly inflated sense of yourself. You have never been anything but an afterthought. You are nothing but-"

The sharp sound of a slap echoed in Steve's ears at the same time as he saw Tarrington's head swing sharply to the left. Steve looked down to see that Kayla had stepped forward. Her right hand was still raised. The palm was already red.

"Don't you dare say another word." Her eyes were blazing as she glared at Tarrington. "That's my husband you're talking about."

Tarrington stared back at Kayla, one hand on his cheek. He looked dumbfounded.

Steve chuckled. "Don't worry, Sweetness, I've heard worse than 'afterthought.' Larry called me insignificant. . . . But I wouldn't expect anything different from El Jefe here. All he does is make threats and use people; to him, we're all pawns. Like Kim and the kids when Winters was threatening them. Tarrington didn't give a damn if they got killed as long as he could use them as leverage to get Shane to cop to a plea deal. And he was ready to lock me up to get me to tell him about Alamain. Isn't that right?"

"We needed the information you had," Tarrington said, having recovered from his surprise at being slapped.

"You could've asked," Steve said, his voice nearly a snarl.

Tarrington responded with another snort. "You would have refused on principle, Johnson. You wouldn't have cooperated voluntarily, so we had to be prepared to take matters into our own hands."

"By locking me up?" Steve asked.

"By any means necessary," Tarrington responded.

Steve shook his head. "Just like you threatened to lock John and Roman up and destroy Carly's career if they didn't go along with your lies at the press conference."

"Yes . . . well, you see how successful that turned out," Tarrington said bitterly. He looked around the group and Steve could tell that Tarrington wanted to make some more threats, but the man looked at Shane and he stopped. Tarrington seemed to bite down on his tongue, then turned suddenly and stormed out of the office.

"And I thought he was one of the good guys," Roman muttered.

Steve grinned. This Roman was growing on him. He walked over to Kayla and put a hand on her shoulder. "How's the hand?" he asked.

She turned and looked up at him. "I wish I could have done a hell of a lot worse."

"That's my girl," Steve said, chuckling. He gave her a quick kiss and then glanced across the room at Shane, who had an arm around Kim. With a grin, Steve said, "About time you finally stood up to that blowhard." He quickly raised a hand. "No, don't tell me why this was different."

Steve knew that Shane probably had some reason for why he could threaten to bring down Tarrington and the ISA now, when he was willing to go to jail before. The reason probably even made sense to Shane - some "logic" behind it. That was a part of Shane that Steve would never understand. He just had a different way of looking at the world. To Steve, Shane's way was too black-and-white, too by-the-book, too rigid, but, in the end, Steve had to admit grudgingly that he and Shane did seem to reach the same place.

So maybe it's not wrong, Steve thought. Just different.

Kim hugged Shane and said, "I don't want to know either. I'm just glad it's all over. Now we can get on with our lives."

Shane just nodded. "Me too. I just want to go home and be with our family. I don't even want to think about Tarrington. I'm done with that. I'm done with the ISA."

As Shane turned to ask Roman about how best to leave the building without running into reporters, Steve tried to hide a smirk. He reached back into his jacket pocket, felt around until he found what he was looking for, and then pulled out the small piece of silver metal. The red light on the top of the little recorder was lit, and it whirred softly as it continued to capture the noise in the room.

You think you're done with the ISA, Donovan, Steve thought. Under his breath he said, "Maybe not as much as you think, dude."