To the end of the Earth
To the end of the Earth I'll search for your face
He isn't much for feeling his feelings. They constrict, hamper, twist, until you're no longer sure what you're feeling. They make your hands shake, give you a headache, make you hesitate. Quinn normally doesn't bother with feelings. So, he's in a pretty unique situation right now. 'Cause he's really fucked pissed.
Quinn hadn't trusted Brody. None of them had; except Carrie. But Quinn had trusted Carrie's judgement. Pity that she had been wrong. Wrong to the extent of a building full of body bags. He had seen them and suppressed his rage.
I know a cold as cold as it gets
Carrie is good. On edge, intense, that furtive look in her eyes: on. That is how she always is, so it's no wonder that Saul – who is so glad to have her back - doesn't see what is right in front of him. The fact that she's still functioning. Yet, even now, knowing what he does, Quinn can look at Carrie sometimes and start to doubt himself. Maybe she isn't involved. Maybe... Carrie is that good.
His phone is a liability. Quinn knows it. It's a calculated risk. If Carrie calls him and he doesn't answer, she might figure it out. If he does answer, she might. If anyone could, it would be Carrie fucking Mathison with her goddamn sixth sense. The only person who could fool her is supposed to be dead.
I know a darkness that's darker than coal
There is a trail. A guy who makes fake passports, 'Mike.' Canada. Ships. And then, Argentina.
No sunlight reflecting off the water. No praying. Just Brody in his sights and absolutely no reason not to pull the trigger.
You and I'll meet down below
His phone rings. He looks at the screen. Carrie. Sighing, he answers it.
'Quinn.'
I fight a war I may never see won
'I busted my ass to get you on the team and this is how you repay me? Do you just not give a shit? Where the fuck are you?'
He places the phone on the uneven ground beside him and adjusts his aim. Brody almost looks happy.
I live only to see you live to regret
Everything that you've done
'What was that? Was that a shot? Quinn, are you okay?'
'I'm fine. I shot a deer.'
'You shot a deer?'
'I'm on a hunting trip. Didn't Saul tell you?'
'Okay... See you when you get back, I guess.'
He clicks the scope off and unscrews the silencer. Bit by bit he starts to disassemble the weapon. Down below in the village, he hears cries. Sirens. He is sweating, but mercifully no longer feeling his feelings. He is Quinn without all the bullshit again. Just the way he likes it.
The end.
(***)
Author's note: Lyrics from the song Cold as it gets by Patty Griffin.