Chapter 20

It's three days later, and Langley feels charged with tension. Quinn and Dar's confirmation hearings have been smooth, but everyone knows Saul's confirmation will be a more difficult process. Saul—fairly or unfairly—is associated with several high-profile intelligence failures, and his time as acting Director is viewed by many as controversial.

After hours of intense preparatory grilling—ranging from the Berlin intelligence leak to the Iran nuclear deal to the unfolding terror attack on Israel—the team is collectively drained. Quinn and Saul remain in the cramped conference room, the last two standing, while the rest of the prep team takes a late lunch (or more accurately, an early dinner). Saul flips through a stack of papers, his mind elsewhere, before he looks up at Quinn.

Quinn is distracted, scrolling through his phone, his brow furrowed.

"Everything okay?" Saul murmurs.

"Fucking Hamas," Quinn mutters, barely glancing up. Then he looks at Saul, meeting his eyes. "It's fine. Everything's fine."

"Sounds convincing," Saul replies with a rueful smile. "Can we hold it together until after the hearings? I don't need any more surprises right now."

Quinn gives a terse nod. "Not a problem."

Saul takes off his glasses and sets them down, looking at Quinn. "Quinn, there's something I've been meaning to ask. Something that's been on my mind for a while. But it's relevant now." He gestures to the papers in front of him. "Given the current situation."

"What's on your mind?" Quinn's voice is guarded as he picks up his coffee and takes a sip, grimacing when the cold liquid hits his tongue.

"It's about Brody."

Quinn tenses. "We've already talked about this."

"I know," Saul says, holding up a hand. "But something's never quite made sense to me."

Quinn narrows his eyes. "What's that?"

"You," Saul replies.

Quinn raises an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"Estes brought you on to kill Brody. I know that much. But… then you didn't. I just—what changed his mind?"

Quinn stares at Saul for a long moment before looking back down at the table. He runs his fingers along the edge of his coffee cup. "How would I know?" He finally asks.

Saul's gaze sharpens, his voice dropping to that low, measured tone that tells Quinn this is no longer just about the job. "Don't give me that, Quinn. There were only two people who knew why Brody didn't die after we took down Abu Nazir, and there's only one of you left." He looks pointedly at Quinn.

Quinn can picture the scene clearly—Estes's cold orders, the justification that killing Brody was the only way to stop him from becoming a liability. But Quinn had known better. He always did.

Quinn swallows. He sighs, runs a hand through his hair, fidgets some more with his coffee cup.

"Quinn." Saul's voice is quiet, but insistent.

"He didn't," Quinn finally mutters.

"He didn't?" Saul repeats, half question, half statement.

"He didn't change his mind."

Saul narrows his eyes and nods slowly. "He told me he did."

"He lied."

"So why was Brody not taken out then? If Estes wanted him dead, and didn't change his mind about it….?"

Quinn sighs again. "I don't—this feels… it's pointless. Brody's dead. Estes is dead. Why does it matter?"

"If I'm going to be answering the Senate's questions tomorrow, I'd at least like to know the truth. I think you owe me that, after all this time."

Quinn exhales sharply, his gaze flicking to the table. Finally, he answers. "I refused."

"You refused," Saul repeats slowly, considering this.

Quinn doesn't respond.

"Why?" Saul presses.

Quinn leans back slightly in his chair, running a hand through his hair. "Because it wasn't right," he says, his voice unwavering, but the weight of that decision still hangs over him. "It wasn't about eliminating a threat. It would've protected Estes, sure, but it would've destroyed Carrie. And I couldn't do it."

"With all due respect, Quinn, you're the best there is—but Estes didn't need the best to eliminate Brody. Why didn't he send someone else?"

Quinn glances at his coffee cup again, avoiding Saul's gaze. "I threatened him."

Saul sit back, processing this. "You threatened him."

"Yes."

Saul looks both incredulous and impressed. "That's—I knew it. Estes wasn't going to change his mind just like that, not after… well, not everything that went down."

"No," Quinn says, his voice flat. "He didn't."

"How did you—what did you…." Saul trails off.

Quinn smiles tightly. "I'm a guy that kills bad guys."

Saul leans back in his chair, taking in the gravity of Quinn's words. "You had to have known what that could cost you."

Quinn doesn't answer. He doesn't need to. The price of that choice—standing up to Estes, protecting Carrie—was high. But Quinn had known the cost and paid it willingly. It was never about him.

Saul looks at him for a long moment, thoughtfully. His voice softens with almost a touch of melancholy. "It's almost poetic, isn't it? I once lectured her for sleeping with a man who put on a suicide vest and then I—well, we all know who I slept with."

Quinn gives Saul a sympathetic glance, but doesn't say anything else.

"Well," Saul says finally, standing up. "I always knew you were different," he adds with a small smile.

Quinn offers a brief, tight smile in return. "Glad I didn't disappoint."

As Saul heads for the door, he pauses, turning back with one final question, his tone soft but knowing: "You'll never tell her, will you?"

Quinn looks up, a tight smile still on his lips. "No. Not a chance."

Saul nods, studying Quinn for a moment longer. Then, with a quiet, almost rueful smile, he adds, "It's never gonna happen between you and Carrie, is it?"

Quinn's expression falters for a second, then hardens. His eyes meet Saul's, and without saying a word, he silently confirms what they both already know: it will never happen. Not after everything that's happened.

Saul doesn't need an answer. He gives Quinn one last long look—an acknowledgment, a kind of unspoken respect—and then turns, exiting the room. The door clicks shut softly behind him.