Sequel to previous Work 'One Last Time' and begins about nine months after the end of that one...
Chasing Demons
Trouble in Paradise
"I reiterate my offer, Carrie, any job that you want, you only have to ask and it's yours." He stared at her, eyes shining with something that could possibly be hope, imploring her to remember what they once meant to each other.
Carrie ignored the almost overwhelming urge to spit in his face, tampered down her anger, looked him square in the eye and said simply "Why?"
Saul Berensen sighed, a very long and eloquent sound. "Jesus, you know why, Carrie," he began. "But if you want me to spell it out I will. I miss you, Carrie. I miss working with you. It's been a fucking awful year and we have lost a lot of very good people. I need to make it better and I need you to help me."
Carrie said nothing, just shook her head slowly.
"I know you weren't happy with the way things turned out with Haqqani," Saul continued, suddenly appearing desperate to fill the silence. "I've given you time to come to terms with it and now I need you back."
"As easy as that?" Carrie worked at keeping her voice emotionless; it was a hard fight.
Saul nodded. "As easy as we can make it," he said voice grating with sincerity.
Carrie gulped, looked away, outside to where the bright spring sunshine warmed and nurtured a different world away from all the sinister distrust and suspicion that lingered like a bad smell through the corridors of Langley.. She took a long, deep breath of the tainted air. "When I think of the times you fucked me over and I ended up thanking you for the opportunity. I put myself on the line so many times for you, Saul. I believed in you. I believed we were doing the right thing." She stood up, chair grating across the sleek floor. "Never again. Never a-fucking-gain!"
It was an impressive display of control that emphasised to Saul the message he had been hearing following his discreet digging around the CIA, the message which had prompted him to arrange this meeting: Carrie had her shit together. It made it even more essential that he get her back on board. He felt his palms sweat at the thought of how useful she would be. But how to get her back on side?
"European Desk Analyst keep you happy, Carrie? I don't think so!" He began again, slowly picking his arguments.
She snorted. "What would you know?" she spat back.
"I know you," he responded firmly, his eyes probing hers.
"No, you knew me, not any more. Like you said it's been a fucking awful year but some good has come from it and I won't go back." She shook her head. "Not to that place you took me to... Never! "
Saul snorted. "Never is a long time, Carrie, and we need you."
"Don't lay the guilt trip on me. I should have known you'd stoop this low." The control was slipping - damn it, how could he push her buttons so easily? Seeking to regain the initiative she ran her hand through her hair, turned away and muttered, "Quinn warned me."
"Oh he did, did he?" Saul's voice had a sudden dangerous edge. "And he knows all about following through on his promises."
She stared at him blankly and Saul knew he had her hooked now, had found the weakness he sought. Needing to concentrate, he pushed away the jealous pain that stung through him as he realised, that as he suspected, her weakness was Quinn.
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" she asked finally turning back to him.
Carefully Saul shook his head, appearing to backtrack he said, "I've said too much but that's because I desperately need you, Carrie."
She moved forwards and placed her hands on his desk, her stance tense and confrontational. "What the fuck do you mean?" She pronounced each word slowly, eyes flashing angrily, boring in to him.
"You don't know?" Saul let a little more play on to the line, watching her minutely, as he prepared to reel her in.
"Know what?"
Just a little more. "I assumed he would have told you."
She was shivering now. Saul silently congratulated himself that he could still play her; Carrie Mathison may have got her shit together but in doing so she had opened herself up to further vulnerability and he would manipulate it for all he was worth. He would get what he wanted.
Her patience hanging by a thread, she gulped. "Told me what?"
Saul stood up, moved to the window, closed his eyes for a second as the warm sunshine bathed him, chasing away the dank winter cobwebs. He felt completely invincible at this moment and had to work hard at keeping the satisfaction from his voice, as he turned back to her to deliver his fatal blow. "Peter Quinn has a physical evaluation session arranged for tomorrow morning. He wants back into his black ops group."
"What?!" Carrie's voice was wrenched from her in equal parts of shock and disbelief. "You're fucking kidding me!"
Saul shook his head. "I wouldn't lie, not to you, Carrie. Not over something as important to you as this. He really hasn't told you?"
She collapsed back into her chair, her legs seemingly unwilling to hold her, running her hand through her hair nervously once more. Her face was crumpled, suddenly fragile. "He's not fit enough," she mumbled, "It's only nine months since..." She stopped and looked up at Saul, her eyes suddenly cold. "You bastard," she spat.
"Carrie." He moved towards her, hands outstretched but she pushed passed him.
"Don't fucking touch me!" The door banged as she threw it wide and rushed out, leaving only the tortured heat of her anger slowly dissipating through the room.
Saul sighed and sat down, resting his head on his hand, deep in thought; that had gone better than he had expected.
Panicked Carrie was desperate to get out of Langley, she felt it's claustrophobic confines would crush her at any minute. So she almost ran, head down and ignoring everything else, so much so that it took an arm on her shoulder, spinning her around, to stop her.
"What the...?" she muttered and found herself looking up into a handsome face, skin tanned, eyes brown and tidy black hair pronouncing that its owner was of Middle Eastern origin. She recognised the face, although had difficulty in her current mindset in coming up with a name. He stood, eyes twinkling in amusement, still holding her sleeve gently, as if waiting for her to catch up.
"Sam?" she began incredulously. "Samir Bakri?"
He nodded and rolled his eyes at that.
"I thought you were dead!"
"Carrie Mathison," he purred his voice with the attraction of the barest accent. "I don't recall you being so overly dramatic."
His smile was wide and so contagious that Carrie found herself matching it without wanting to, as she fought to regain her composure. "Well, fuck me!" she muttered.
The smile grew wider and he nodded, "I believe I did, on numerous occasions!" he beamed. "And very hot, it was too! Can I shout you a coffee for old time sake?"
Carrie was on the verge of declining, she really needed to speak to Quinn, but something in the twinkle of his eye sparked a memory of long ago nights in the stinking heat of Bagdad. "OK," she nodded. "But not here. I know a nice coffee shop a couple of blocks down."
After they had settled themselves down and ordered, Carrie took a long look at her companion. He was older true, but still gave off that comfortably confident air that she remembered, so much so that he seemed to positively enjoy being the subject of her somewhat intense appraising stare.
"Still like what you see, Mathison?" he asked smoothly.
She shook her head but smiled. "Haven't changed then, Sammy," she said.
"Why change perfection?"
She rolled her eyes. "Why indeed. So what are you doing here?"
"Cyber terrorism is where it's at," he responded. "I'm setting up a new team. You want in?"
"Me?" She shook her head. "I barely know how to turn my phone on!"
His smile faltered. "Self depreciation is not cool. When did you get to be so modest, Mathison?" He leaned forwards. "I don't remember that."
"Yeah well, life happened, Sam and all the shit it brings!"
He took hold of her hand, turned it around and gently circled his finger around her palm, tracing the life line. "Did I ever tell you my mother was a brilliant soothsayer, back in Palestine, when I was a little boy, she taught me all she knew and I see only long life and happiness here," he said, his accent suddenly stronger, and his eyes bright with humour.
Carrie snorted and pulled her hand away. "Yeah, well I hope you're better at cyber crime than you are palm reading then! No offence to you mother obviously."
He pouted apparently wounded. "I thought you would remember, I am good at everything. It wounds me that you have forgotten this absolute truth." Then he allowed his face to turn more serious. "So come on, Mathison, tell me what's happened to you in the last ten years. Has my crazy lady really become so sad?"
"Not sad just..." She stopped as the waitress delivered the coffee, and she glanced out of the window wistfully.
"Just?" Bakri prompted.
She smiled at him. "You first," she deflected.
He chuckled. "Married, children, divorced, single... Definitely in that order." he disclosed. "And now back in the good old USA, hot and ready for sex! You?" She smiled but said nothing, so he continued, "You got a partner?"
She frowned a little. "It's complicated," she said, stirring her coffee way too vigorously.
"Well it shouldn't be!" Bakri said. "It should be as easy as fuck and if it's not, it's not worth it! Didn't Baghdad teach you anything?"
"So how did you get out?" Carrie asked. "I made enquiries but nobody knew where you were. I guess I just assumed..."
Bakri shook his head. "Don't try to divert me with irrelevancies; sex is much more important than any of that. You obviously need cheering up. Come on, let's go, let me show you what is important in life, Carrie Mathison!"
At that point, Carrie's phone buzzed on the table. She glanced down, saw Quinn's number and felt her stomach clench. She considered ignoring it completely but then knew that she needed to talk to him. "Excuse me for a sec," she said, "I got to take this."
Bakri waved her away nonchalantly and she moved towards the back of the shop out of earshot.
"Hey."
Over the past nine months Carrie had become quite adept at deciphering Quinn's mental state by the way he greeted her over the phone. Most days it was light and positive but on a significant minority, when his demons had taken hold, the single word was said with such pure lifelessness that it made her soul weep. Today's tone was completely neutral, almost engineered to give nothing away.
"Hey," she responded, equally impartially.
"How did it go?"
"Interestingly," Carrie responded.
There was silence at the end of the phone and then Quinn said "You're not considering his offer are you?"
"I don't know what I'm doing right now," Carrie snapped. "We need to talk about it."
"Right." Quinn responded. "Tonight?"
Carrie hesitated. She glanced back at the table. Bakri smiled at her and blew her an extravagant kiss. "Maybe not tonight," she said. "I'm pretty strung out and I just want to go home and sleep now. It was pretty intense."
She sensed the surprise through Quinn's hasty and guarded, "OK." But then he rallied with "Do you want me to come round?"
"Tomorrow," she responded. "Early."
There was a further hesitation. "I can't," he said finally. "I got something on."
"Hospital appointment?" she asked. "You never said. I can take you."
"No," he responded too quickly. "I'll ring you when I'm free."
"Are you sure?" She pushed, as the alarm bells continued to jar through her head. "Sounds mysterious!"
"No it's really not," he responded sounding uncomfortable. "Hope you feel better soon."
"Yeah, so do I!" she answered and he was gone. She stood staring at her phone as if it would give her the answer she sought. Surely Saul could not have been telling the truth? Quinn wouldn't, couldn't, be contemplating a return to live action and if he was, he would have surely told her.
"Hey gorgeous, come back to me!" Bakri's pleading voice cut through her reverie.
She put away the phone and wearing her best smile she moved back to the table but Bakri wasn't fooled. "Trouble in paradise, Mathison?" he asked.
"Nothing that a night out with an old friend won't solve!" she retorted.
Bakri let out a victorious chuckle. "Come on then!"
"Just one minute," Carrie said. "Got to arrange a babysitter."
For the first time since she had met him that afternoon, Samir Bakri looked genuinely surprised. "Mathison a mother!?" he snorted. "Now that is a truly astonishing concept!"