Page 75 of The Shadow Friends

“I’ll try.”

He gave a tired laugh. Put down his glass of wine and rubbed his hand across his face. “I suppose that’s better than ‘I can’t tell you.’ An answer I’ve heard too many times from you.”

“Because it’s always been true. I couldn’t tell you, even if I wanted to.”

“And I accepted it. I took it as just a part of being married to you. But this, Ingrid, this time it’s different. Because you were supposed to have left that job behind, along with all the lies and secrets. It’s supposed to be just you and me now.”

“This is still about the job. That much hasn’t changed. And I’m still bound to secrecy by—”

“It’s not about the job! We both know that!”

She paused, taken aback by the outburst. She looked at the misery etched in his face and said quietly: “You think it’s about Rodrigo. Don’t you?”

“Isn’t it?”

“Okay,” she sighed. “I’m going to be completely honest with you. What do you want to know?”

He fixed her with a look she could not avoid. “Are you . . . involved with him?”

For a moment she was silent as she weighed how much to tell him, and whether the truth would make things better or worse. “I was,” she said. “But it was years ago.”

“You were together?”

“Yes. It was unwise, because we were also working together, but we did what was required of us. We accomplished our missions. Except for that disaster in France, when we lost Gordon and Simon, as well as the woman we were protecting. We made an excellent team.”

“Then why didn’t you two last?”

“He had a roving eye. I knew it wouldn’t work between us. And then I met someone else. Someone better.”

“Who?”

She laughed. “You. You silly man.”

He shook his head. “Please. Be serious.”

“I am serious. Why is that so hard to believe?”

“Because—I mean, look at the man!”

“Yes, I admit it, Rodrigo’s a fine-looking fellow. And if you’re under fire in a foxhole, he’s a good man to have at your side. But I didn’t marry him, did I? I chose you.”

“To be honest, I always wondered why.”

“Remember that day in Langley, when we met? We were all in the conference room, reviewing the latest satellite photos. Then you stood up to speak, and I thought: ‘There’s a clever man. A funny man.’ Only later did I realize you were also a kind man.” She placed her hand over his. “Do you think I’d settle for less?”

“Then why are you here, Ingrid? Why aren’t we both at home right now, where we belong?”

She looked down at the table. At her hand, clasping his. “You’ll just try to talk me out of it.”

“Yes, I probably will.”

“I made a promise, to Gordon and Simon and Sophie. The people we lost. The people we failed. They deserve justice. I want to deliver it, even if it means I have to pull the trigger myself.”

“You’d actually do that? Pull a trigger and kill a man in cold blood?”

“This particular man?” She looked him in the eye. “Yes. I would.”

“Good God, Ingrid.”