Sharon was right. Op-Center was established primarily to handle domestic crises. They jumped into the international arena when the President named Hood to head up the task force investigating a terrorist attack in Seoul, Korea. Hood had never been flattered by the appointment. Like the assassination of Amadori, it was a job no one else had wanted.

"So things changed," Hood admitted. "What was I supposed to do, walk away from it all?"

"You did in L.A., didn't you?" Sharon asked.

"That's right," Hood said. "And it cost me something."

"What? Power?"

"No," Hood replied. "Self-respect."

"Why? Because you gave in to your wife?"

Aw, Jesus, Hood thought. He gives her what she wants and he still can't win. "That is absolutely not the reason," Hood replied. "Because as much of a pain in the ass as politics was, and as long as the hours were, and even though privacy was nonexistent, I gave up something where I felt I was making a difference." His voice was tense. He was angrier about that than he'd thought. "So I quit politics and I got caught up in long hours all over again. Do you know why? Because once again I'm making a difference. Hopefully making things better for people. I like that, Sharon. I like the challenge. The responsibility. The sense of satisfaction."

"You know, I liked what I did too before I became a mother," Sharon said. "But I had to cut way back on that for the sake of the kids. For our family. At least you don't have to do anything that extreme. But you also can't micromanage, Paul. You have backups. Let them help you so that you can give us what we need to remain a family."

"You mean by your definition-"

"No. We need you. That's a fact."

"You have me," Hood said. He was growing angry now.

"Not enough," Sharon shot back. Her voice was clipped and firm. Here they were again, in the roles they always assumed when well-meaning discussions degenerated into unpleasant debates. Paul Hood playing the angry offense, his wife playing the cool defense.

"Jesus," Hood said. He wanted to lay the phone aside and scream. He settled for squeezing the receiver. "I've promised to quit, I've got a crisis here, and I can't sleep without thinking about all of you. And you tell me all the things I'm doing wrong while you're up there holding the kids hostage."

"I'm not holding them hostage," Sharon said curtly. "We're yours whenever you want us."

"Sure," Hood said. "On your terms."

"These are not 'my terms,' Paul. This isn't about me winning and you losing. It's not about you giving up a job or career. It's about making a few changes. Asking for a few concessions. It's about the kids winning."

The interoffice line beeped. Hood looked at the LCD: it was Mike Rodgers.