+18 - FEATURED - #1 Thriller
A unique city. A unique police team led by a unique woman. And an uptight fed set on a collision course.
Declan Brockner is a sullen FBI agent. Once an outstanding profiler, now fallen from grace and office, his...
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Brock remembered to resume breathing, still trying to take in what had just happened. The first thing he registered was Andrea's hand pressing his on the table, and it gave him the perfect excuse to keep his eyes down.
But she whispered, "Dad," and he was forced to look up, in time to see Russell stand up and make room for the SCU to approach the table, all of them with clear intentions of congratulating him as if he had received the medal. So he was forced to stand up as well and shake their hands, and even get a few pats on his shoulder. They all tried their best to state that the just-commended team, the ace up the Mayor's sleeve for his campaign for governor, King Gillian's pets, didn't actually give a damn about politics and were more than willing to acknowledge Brock's skills.
"Those about to die salute you, Agent Brockner," said Ron.
Hank bumped fists with his former colleagues from the DEA, telling them how Brock's profiles worked like a frigging clock, man, you have no idea, five minutes on the case and he had already figured it out, the man is outta this world. Fred signaled a waiter to bring champagne for them. Aldana spotted one of the event photographers and waved him over. In a heartbeat, they surrounded a scowling Brock for the camera. They called Russell and Andrea to join them for another photo, and Connor and Russell's mother for a third one.
From the empty table, Gillian didn't fight her stupid little smile. It didn't matter if the brass was about to throw her to the lions for this. Watching Brock with her team and Russell like that, before all the people, was worth it.
Her father joined her, resting a hand on the small of her back. "There, you've made a star of the profiler. Happy now?" he said, but she knew he was still enjoying Burton's and Mattock's blank faces, as they looked everywhere but at Brock. By them, Cooper shared King Gillian's fun.
"Come, time for some official handshakes," he said, and took Gillian to where the Governor and the Mayor talked, at the other side of the stage. And for once, she didn't need to fake a smile as she posed with all those big shots.
The other ballroom opened while she was still busy. People strolled out to get a drink and dance, and Brock finally got a chance to steal away to the restroom.
He washed his face with cold water a couple of times before facing himself in the mirror. He couldn't even begin to process what he felt. There had been a time when a mention like Gillian's would've made him nod at her with a confident smile, knowing she was telling the truth. But that had been long ago, in what always felt like another life.
That rogue daredevil! Dedicating such an important award to him publically, along with her father and son! They would surely have her head for this. Had it been anyone else, he would've thought they were using him, his name, to make some sort of political statement, even of the "I don't give a damn about politics" kind, like her team had just done. But he'd gotten to know her enough to understand this wasn't the case. Which made it all so much more meaningful and personal in the end. And more puzzling, considering they'd been like cats and dogs about the Bailey procedure.
Yet seeing Andrea so thrilled and proud of him, that alone was enough to be grateful to Gillian for the rest of his life. Because it had been the first time his daughter had ever heard anyone praising him at all.
Grateful. That. He needed to put himself together and find Gillian. And thank her.
He strode out of the restroom, thinking he'd seen her across the ballroom with her father, and found the place deserted, save the waiters cleaning the tables.
