While on a solo assignment, Carrie stumbles into someone familiar. Suspicion and paranoia start running high.
She can almost feel the tension creating a thumping in her chest, drumming along with her anxiety. Carrie tries to keep focused and her nerves steady as she stares at her cramped surroundings, trying to remember exactly how she ended up on a cargo plane headed for Russia.
It was a bit too fast and hazy for her tastes, but it wasn't like she was never woken up in the middle of the night for an assignment before. No, what worries her is the fact that Saul tried to tip-toe around the subject. He didn't exactly seem too willing to tell her much about this case and, for the life of her, Carrie can't figure out why.
"Why me?" she asked him "There are plenty of case officers who have been to Russia before."
Saul shook his head at her remark. "They're not right for the job."
"Why?"
"They're just not."
"Saul."
He took a breath and fixed her with his stare. "Our suspect reacts warmly to certain types of people."
"You mean women."
"Yes" he admitted.
"Then you should've just told me that in the first place."
"Carrie, I'm not going to say I'm sorry, because I know you can handle this sort of situation."
"You still haven't told me exactly what this situation is about."
"Hank Shaw, one of our old case officers, went missing a few years ago under suspicious circumstances. Intel says he resurfaced in Siberia where he supposedly tried to get hold of some kind of explosives to smuggle back to the US. He has some sort of plan. And the worst part is that he has a grudge against us."
"And now he's currently in Russia."
"Stationed at a base. What you have to do is close to this guy until you can know for sure of what he's planning."
Carrie glanced at him and noted the tension in his movements. "Why do you look like there's another problem?"
"The base has tight security on arrival. So we can't give you any weapons. Or assistance." Saul looked away from her. "You'll be alone out there."
Carrie took a moment to run a hand through her hair. "So once I land, it's just going to be me."
"You can say no" Saul told her, "but I still think you're the best case officer for this."
"What exactly is this guy's grudge with us?"
"What we have on him is mostly hearsay. No one seems too sure of exactly what's going on."
Carrie ran a hand through her hair. "If it's all rumors, then why are you sending me all the way to Russia?"
Saul didn't have a satisfactory answer for her, and the thought that he's keeping secrets from her still sends Carrie in a fit of anger and worry and paranoia. Which is exactly what she doesn't need when she's being sent across the world.
But she takes a few breaths and tells herself that it's going to be just fine. Despite being told that she'd have to do this alone, Saul did provide her with an ally of sorts. Even if it was just the pilot of the aircraft.
As the hours pass, Carrie tries to keep herself calm and maybe even a bit distracted. She idly fiddles with a box of Tic-Tacs that sits inside the pocket of her jacket. The box which contain her meds scattered among the mints. The trick sometimes makes her want to laugh, because she's certain the people who are tasked to search her on arrival will see right through it. But even if they do, she'll be fine. She can only stay two days at the most before the aircraft has to leave, with or without her. And despite her loyalty to this assignment, Carrie doesn't want to risk being stuck on a base with suspected terrorists. She plans to make that flight.
When the plane lands, the tension inside her stomach amplifies, but she keeps telling herself to calm down. All she has to do for now is appear as if she's just another person who is interested in the various weapons that are being manufactured on the base. The hatch soon opens, sending a cold air and snowflakes that makes Carrie tighten the coat around her frame.
She carefully steps outside.
What she sees leaves Carrie a bit confused. She expected some snow and an imposing base overridden with guards. But the landscape in front of her is very much unlike what she imagined. There are snowy mountains as far as the eye can see and the light of the afternoon resembles a dark winter day. But what strikes her the most is that - besides a few hastily built encampments right next to the landing - there are virtually no buildings or people in sight. The base is underground and everyone is hidden.
Carrie is in the middle of godamn nowhere.
When the pilot joins her, Carrie turns to him. "Where exactly are we?"
The pilot looks at her with a grave expression. "This is Kamchatka, Ms. Mathison. I expected Mr. Berenson told you about this."
He should have detailed exactly what she's about to walk into, but he didn't. And all the secrecy is starting to get to her.
"You can find me over there" the man says, gesturing at a run-down encampment, "for the two days we'll be here. We depart on Friday at 2PM. And if you're late-"
"You're leaving without me" Carrie says, remembering Saul's words.
They both step onto the snow and begin walking towards a group of guards who seem to be in charge of greeting any arrivals. Two of them are carrying assault riffles.
To his credit, the pilot really does try to help her and says something in Russian to the guards. But they don't seem to be swayed too much by his words because they quickly pull off Carrie's coat and start searching her. It's below freezing, but she tries to look as mellow and cooperative as possible. It's best to save the anger for later.
They look through the fake papers she's carrying with practiced patience, but they stop and frown when they search the pocket of her coat. A hand comes up with the box of Tic-Tacs.
"What's this?" one of them asks in a broken English accent.
Carrie tries to sound nonchalant. "They're mints. Like candy."
The two armed guards shake their heads and mumble something in Russian before taking the box away from her. Of course. But Carrie always expected something like this, so she keeps her expression devoid of any anger or surprise or worry. She can make it two days without her medication. This is a cakewalk.
Her coat is returned soon enough and once she's assessed as not a threat, the guards lead them inside the base, demeanor considerably less aggressive. She's determined not to waste time, so Carrie shrugs off any hostility she has for the guards and starts roaming the base.
The money she has in her pocket is supposedly enough for two days of food and a few guns. Any more and the guards would have found it suspicious. The idea that they see her as nothing but a clueless woman who was tasked to carry a few weapons for her boss secretly gets on her nerves. But it's a good mask to hide behind. As long as she's not seen as a threat, she's free to walk anywhere and feign ignorance if she's ever out of bounds.
The base is a maze of rooms and giant halls that seems purposefully designed to confuse anyone new. Carrie has no idea where she's headed but she slips among the rest of the people and tries to look like she belongs.
She's not hungry and she suspects she never will be while stuck on this ice cube, so Carrie decides to spend her food money on something else. She stops before a man who seems to be selling rifle parts and buys a telescopic sight. It would have been easy to just bring along a pair of binoculars, but she doesn't want to give the guards any reason to suspect her. It's better to play it safe.
It takes her several hours before she starts learning the basic layout of the level she's on. But despite this newfound confidence, Carrie can't help but also feel frustrated. She's been roaming the building for roughly four hours and hasn't seen one man who resembles the picture Saul showed her. She has two days to track him down before the plane takes off, and the time suddenly feels way too little.
After one more hour of ambling about, Carrie decides to walk outside and clear her head. She steps onto the crunchy snow and notices that she no longer has to peer through the falling snow because most of the mist has lifted. And, in the distance, she can clearly see something she hasn't considered before. A tunnel going through a section of mountain. It looks guarded, but Carrie doesn't let herself be intimidated.
She plays up the ignorant blonde angle and walks up to the guards like she's an innocent tourist. When she asks them there what lies beyond the tunnel, they mention with a bored demeanor that it's nothing an old, battered submarine lying on snowy field overlooking the Sea of Okhotsk. Carrie thanks them and decides to take a look anyway.
The walk is long and tedious. And cold. There are only a handful of guards walking about, but they're spread out, barely covering any ground. The more steps she takes through the tunnel, the more Carrie starts regretting it, because it's hard to keep focused while her hands and legs are shaking. She eventually stops by one of the lanterns that illuminate the tunnel every few feet, and she tries to warm up by keeping her hands above the light.
A hand grabs her shoulder from behind.
Before she even thinks it through, Carrie throws her elbow back and then kicks the intruder. And for a moment she feels horrible for reacting so quickly and blowing her cover. But something isn't right. The groan of pain the man let out sounds familiar. She quickly digs inside her coat and aims her flashlight at his face.
Carrie's face drops as soon as she sees who it is. "Quinn? Jesus Christ, what are you doing here?"
"I was about to ask you the same until you kicked me."
"Saul didn't tell me he was sending you here too. Tracking Shaw was supposed to be a solo assignment."
He shakes his head once. "I'm not here under Saul's order."
"What are you talking about?"
He takes a few moments before answering, and this reaction doesn't sit well with Carrie. "Dar Adal sent me here to find out who's keeping this base together" Quinn says, "He doesn't want any of the weapons here sent to the US."
"This doesn't make any sense. Why would the agency send us both here without telling us about each other?"
"I don't know. Things must have gotten complicated. People can be overworked, files misplaced. Mistakes are bound to happen."
"I've never heard of anything like this happening before." She wants to get in touch with Saul and ask what the hell is going on, but her phone is all the way back in the States. Not that it would do her any good seeing as there's no service in the mountains. Carrie turns her attention back to Quinn. "How long have you been here?"
"That depends on what day it is." When she gives him an incredulous look he adds, "It's always dark here, and my watch broke. It's hard to keep track."
"It's Tuesday."
He thinks for a moment. "That makes eleven days."
"You've been here almost two weeks?"
"It's a long story."
"I've got time."
He shakes his head. "Not here."
"Why?"
"Carrie, we're two Americans who just happened to arrive a few days from each other. If we're caught hiding out here together we'll look suspicious and instantly flagged. I'm not blowing my cover over this. And neither are you."
She wants to kick something out of frustration but she doesn't want to risk bringing attention to them. "All right. We'll talk later. Where?"
"There's a mess hall at the top level. It's full of people so that's our best cover. Meet me there in two hours."
"You want to discuss agency problems in a mess hall full of people?"
"It's noisy and no one here can speak good English." A pause. "Trust me on that last one."
The plan still sounds risky in her mind, and she knows Quinn is rarely risky. Something's definitely going on. She reluctantly agrees, even if her gut is telling her to just ignore him altogether and go on with her assignment.
When Quinn starts to leave, Carrie stops him for a moment. She unfastens her wristwatch and holds it up in her palm. "Since yours is broken" she clarifies.
He shakes his head at it. "I'll be fine."
"Quinn, you didn't even know what day it was. Besides, how are you supposed to know when to meet me?"
"You need your watch, Carrie. And I've been here longer than you have. I can get by."
She decides that maybe he's right. "What's on the other side of this tunnel?"
"I don't know. It's boarded up" he says, "it's been like this since I arrived."
"So then what're you doing here?" Carrie hopes she doesn't sound as suspicious as she is.
"Same thing you are" he says, walking towards the exit. "Looking for answers."
She's soon left by herself in the cold, dark tunnel. And with a flashlight in hand, Carrie presses onward. She's never fully trusted Quinn, and now that they both somehow ended up on the same remote place under suspicious circumstances makes her even more wary.
But he turns out to be right. The other side of the tunnel is boarded up.
Carrie grabs the telescopic sight and aims it between the boards that are obstructing the exit. What she sees is a vast plane of desolation. And what looks to be an abandoned submarine that sits rusting in the snow. There's no movement coming from inside, so she pockets the scope and heads back out.
Back inside the base, Carrie tries to inquire about other America buyers as surreptitiously as possible. But the search is fruitless. Everyone is careful not to say too much or anything at all before they go on their way. And with no other plan in mind, Carrie heads for the mess hall.
Despite not having a watch, Quinn manages to arrive on time. He sits across from her at the small table. Carrie hates that the mess hall is crowded, but tries to remind herself that all the chatter can be a good veil to hide behind.
"So what's going on?" she asks in a hushed tone.
"Are you armed?"
Carrie frowns at him. "What?"
"Please tell me Saul didn't send you here empty handed."
"It wouldn't have done me any good anyway. They searched me as soon as I got here."
"I need you hold onto this." He places a shirt on the table that seems to be wrapped around something.
She eyes it. "What is it?"
"A P220."
Carrie shakes her head and pushes the bundle back towards his side of the table. "I'm not here to kill anyone."
"It's for self defense."
"I don't want it."
He sighs and fixes his eyes on her. "Carrie, you were once kidnapped and held hostage by a terrorist. You need to carry a gun."
"I'm supposed to look like an idiot blond who's here to buy some guns for her boss. If they catch me with that, they'll be suspicious."
"Then don't let them catch you."
She leans in closer and whispers. "I can do this without any weapons. I know I can."
"You're in the middle of fucking nowhere, in a base full of armed people. Just take the gun. Please."
She still wants to refuse, but the look on his face makes her fold. Carrie nods and sets the hidden gun next to her. "Now will you tell me what the fuck is happening?"
"Something is going on back home with the agency. And it's sending everyone in a state of panic and suspicion."
She frowns. "Why?"
"I'm not sure. All I know is that there's a mole involved."
Carrie shakes her head. "Jesus."
"That's why so many agents were sent away these past few weeks. Everyone is trying to test their people and flush out the mole."
"But it doesn't make any sense. How is sending case officers around the world flush out the mole?"
"It reassures upper management that we're following orders. Or not." He pauses, then leans in closer. "I think they're tracking us, Carrie."
She furrows her brow. "It sounds too far fetched. There's no way for them to track us anyway. My phone's all the way back home."
He glances at her wrist. "Did you ever check inside your watch?"
Carrie glances at her wristwatch. "You think there's a tracker in here?"
"I tried pulling mine apart but ended up breaking it. So I'm not sure."
She narrows her eyes at him. "Where's this coming from? It's not like you to be so paranoid."
"Tell me something, did Saul give you details on this assignment? Or did he just gloss over everything and sent you on your way?"
Carrie stays quiet.
"He was purposefully vague, wasn't he?"
She nods weakly.
"Like I said, they're testing how loyal we are."
Carrie looks at him and wonders if two weeks is enough time to send someone over the edge in terms of paranoia. "You said you've been here eleven days" she says, unable to hide the suspicion in her tone.
"What I'm doing takes time."
"Not this much."
He glares at her for a second. "How long did Saul give you?"
"Two days."
"And this guy you're looking for, what does he look like?"
"Medium-built, blonde, American. Supposedly tends to lean on his left leg more ever since he was shot on the job."
He clenches his jaw. "Carrie, there is some grade A bullshit going on with this. Because I've been here for weeks and haven't seen one person who looks like that."
"So what're you saying exactly?"
For a moment Quinn hesitates. "Saul is lying to you. And you're just too close to him to see it."
Carrie glares at him before rising from the table. "Fuck you."
"He's not doing it because he wants to" he says, stopping her. "He's forced."
"By who?"
"Whoever is higher on the food chain."
She wonders about this for a second before dropping it. Because it doesn't make any sense. "If his hand was forced, he'd tell me."
"Are you sure about that?"
Carrie considers punching him for a moment. "If I were you, I'd board the first ship that leaves this place. Because it's obvious you've been here too long."
And she takes off, leaving both him and the handgun behind.
-o-
For the next few hours, Carrie puts him out of her mind completely because she has a job to do and very little time to do it.
She endlessly walks the maze of levels that makes up the compound, scanning across the crowd, praying that Shaw will someone magically appear in front of her. But she only sees strangers and deceptively bored-looking guards.
When Carrie checks her watch for the millionth time, it shows that it's a little over two in the morning. She's been on her feet all day and her nerves are fried, but calling it quits and going to sleep isn't an option. She presses on and decides to see what resides on the lowest level.
The more she heads downwards, the fewer people she sees, and the sight gives Carrie some hope. Maybe her luck hasn't run out yet. She descends another set of rusty stairs when she bumps into two guards who are positioned before a set of steel doors.
"Sorry" Carrie says, trying to make her smile look genuine, "I guess I got a bit lost. What is this place?"
"Storage" one of them says. She can't ignore the edge of anger in his voice. "Public isn't allowed."
Carrie retreats back up the steps, wondering if the guards ever take a break. Probably not. And until she can come up with a way to see exactly what lies beyond the doors, she has to stay clear.
An hour later and she's back at the top level, washing her face in a crummy looking restroom. She's just glad there's no one else there to see how frustrated she is. Carrie checks her watch again, even though she knows what time it is because she needs to keep her hands moving. Needs to do something.
On a whim, she takes off her watch and stares at it. It doesn't look like it's been tampered with and she can't even remember ever taking it off. Carrie puts it up to her ear and listens to the cadence of the ticking. It sounds normal. But there's still that seed of doubt in her that just won't disappear. She sighs and starts pulling the watch apart.
It takes a while to get all the screws out and arrange them by the side of the sink in an order. And when she's done, Carrie pops off the back panel. A small object falls into the sink with an audible metallic click and she rushes to catch it before it topples down the drain.
She squints at it in the dim light. A chip. It takes all of her self control not to smash it in her palm or just throw it down the drain. Carrie takes a deep breath, puts the chip in her pocket, and then assembles her watch back together. She walks back out like there's nothing wrong.
And right outside the door, she finds Quinn leaning on a wall. She wants to ask him why the hell he's following her, but knows that the second her mouth opens nothing but curses will come out. She says nothing.
"You find your guy yet?" Quinn asks.
She just ignores him for a moment, taking another deep breath.
"Carrie?"
"No, I haven't found him."
"You look a little freaked. Something happened?"
She doesn't want to be dragged into the cesspool of paranoia. She should just put everything but the assignment out of her mind and get it done. But she can't. Carrie curses under her breath as she pulls him into the restroom. Once the door closes, she digs into her pocket and reveals the little chip.
"I found it in my watch" she says, holding it in her palm.
Quinn's shuts his eyes for a second. "Jesus. I was right."
"I still can't believe it."
"Who do you think is behind all this?"
Carrie rubs her head. "Who the fuck knows anymore. Maybe even Saul. And I can't deal with this" she says, "all this paranoia and secrecy and not knowing who to trust."
He frowns. "Carrie, you signed up for this the moment you entered the agency."
"I know."
"Then what's the problem?"
"Timing." She runs her hands through her hair and looks at the wall behind him, sudden embarrassed. "They took my fucking meds."
It feels bizarre saying it out, admitting that she has this problem, especially when she hasn't discussed it with anyone except Saul and her own family.
Carrie wonders what reaction he'll have. But instead of any probing questions, all Quinn asks is, "Who?"
"I can handle it" she says "I've done it plenty of time before. It's just going to be harder while being stuck on an ice cube and surrounded by all this mess and suspicion and-"
"Carrie" he says, stopping her rambling. "Who took them?"
She shakes her head. "You're not doing anything about this. And neither am I. We're both sticking to our respective plans."
"Carrie, I've been here a long time, I can-"
"If you take one step into the guards' quarters for me" Carrie begins, "I'll personally talk to the CIA Director and tell him you fucked up and aren't fit to be in the field."
He doesn't nod or shake his head. But she can tell by the look in his eye that he agrees to step down. "So what are you going to do about your so far missing terrorist?"
She shakes her head. "I don't know. He doesn't seem to be anywhere around here." She raises an eyebrow. "How's your assignment going?"
"Even worse than yours."
Carrie almost wants to laugh. "This is really fucked up. Maybe Hank Shaw is right to have a grudge against us."
"Saul told you that?"
She nods. "It sounds like he went rogue. Maybe he knows what the hell happened to send the agency in such a frenzy."
"A hundred says he's hiding on that rusty submarine" Quinn says, pensive.
Carrie looks at him. "You're serious?"
"The only access point is through the tunnel, which is boarded up. Why, where do you think he's hiding?"
"Not in any old submarine, that's for sure. I don't think someone the CIA trained could be that careless. It's too out in the open."
"Maybe he banked on exactly that. Hiding in the most obvious place no one will think to look."
"A hundred dollars" Carrie says, "you're sure?"
"I'm sure."
"So how are we supposed to get passed the blocked entrance?"
He shakes his head. "I don't know yet."
"Then I'll figure something out." She heads for the door.
"You forgot this" Quinn says, holding the handgun she left behind in the mess hall.
She wants to argue about it again, but there would be no point. So Carrie wordlessly takes the P220, places it under her belt and smooths her shirt over it.
"Where are you going?" he asks when she gets ready to leave.
"Why? Are you going to keep following me?" She didn't mean to sound this angry.
"We're supposed to have each other's backs."
She smiles weakly. "Sure."
"You don't trust me."
"I didn't say that."
"But you don't."
Carrie doesn't try to deny it. "You showed up out of the fucking blue. So excuse me if I feel a little wary after all that talk about a mole."
"You think I'm the mole?" he asks, in disbelief.
"And you probably think I am."
He shakes his head.
"Why not?"
"My gut tells me you can't be, and I always follow my gut" he says. "Maybe you should do the same."
-o-
She spends over four hours creeping around the staircase leading towards the last level. She needs to find out what lies beyond the guarded doors, but the guards keeping watch refuse to move. Carrie tries to remind herself that without her meds she becomes obsessive and that the normal thing to do is to sleep on it.
But she's too wired for that. So wired that she hears the silent clicks of someone's footfalls two levels above her. Carrie scrambles to a higher floor and tries to look inconspicuous. Luckily, the footsteps belong to the pilot of the aircraft that brought her here.
"I've been looking for you everywhere" he says out of breath.
"What happened?"
"We have to take off soon."
Carrie frowns. "What are you talking about?"
"There's another aircraft scheduled to land in a few hours. And the guards are starting to think that two days is too much for my cargo ship to stay docked. I'm really sorry, Ms Mathison."
She fixes him with her gaze. "Saul told me I have until Friday. That's two days. I need these two days."
"I'm sorry, but we have to leave."
Carrie sets her jaw and tries to think. "When's the other aircraft supposed to arrive?"
"Eight in the morning."
She checks her watch. "That gives me a little over two hours."
The pilot nods.
"I can still make it."
She rushes past him and starts climbing the stairs to the top level.
Carrie isn't sure exactly how, but in only a few hours she's been able to memorize the main routes of the base. And fifteen minutes later she spots Quinn in the mess hall talking to someone. She walks over and drags him away by the arm until they reach the back of the room.
Quinn frowns at her "Carrie, I was in the middle of-"
"The plane leaves in two hours."
"Why? What happened?"
"Never mind that. I need you to help me find Shaw."
"How?"
"We're breaking through the tunnel and getting onto that submarine."
He looks at her sidelong. "I thought you didn't believe he's hiding there."
"But if you're right then this is my last chance to get the assignment done. I just need you to help me get through that blockade. With something less noisy than explosives." She pauses. "Unless you think we could get away with some explosives."
Quinn glances at her with worry. "Carrie, did you even sleep last night?"
She shakes her head. "I don't need sleep."
He remains speechless for a moment. "I'm not sure how to respond to that."
"Two hours, Quinn. Are you going to help me or not?"
-o-
It's a risky plan, but Carrie is too rattled and desperate to think of something else. She searches around the base until she finds a folding shovel small enough for her to hide under her coat. Though she suspects it wouldn't matter one bit because the guards that hang around the tunnel entrance appear disinterested when she walks inside. She's instructed Quinn to keep any wandering guards busy and come in after her, fifteen minutes later.
When she reaches the blocked exit to the other side, Carrie stops and extends the shovel. And she starts digging under the wooden panels. The snow has compacted and turned into ice in some places, making the dig difficult. But at least the effort is keeping her from shivering in the cold.
A few minutes later she hears a crunch of snow a few feet behind her. Carrie springs to her feet and trains the handgun in front of her.
She sighs the second Quinn comes into view. "What the hell happened to waiting fifteen minutes?"
When he points out that this is exactly what he did, Carrie frowns and glances at her watch, confused. It looks like it's taking much longer than she anticipated. They both start digging and, after a while, Carrie decides to just ditch the shovel and just dig with her hands.
It feels like forever, but they eventually breach through to the other side. Carrie takes off running.
By the time she reaches the old submarine, she's too amped up to think clearly, and she kicks the door open, gun in hand.
"Carrie" Quinn says from a few feet behind "we need to do this methodically."
"I have thirty minutes left, there's no time to be methodical."
"Fine, but we stick together."
She nods before heading through the door.
The old submarine looks long abandoned. And the moment they walk inside, Carrie feels like she's stepped into darkness that even her flashlight has a hard time cutting through. The air is thick with dust. They take careful steps at first, but quickly end up making their way as fast as they can through the various desolate rooms.
And the more she walks, the more Carrie starts feeling the impending doom of a failed assignment. It's all resting on one far-fetched hunch that she didn't even believe at first and she only chose to follow it out of last minute desperation. She's never rushed assignments before. This isn't like her.
More empty rooms pass by, and it's obvious this it's all a waste of time. But she presses on, determined.
"Carrie."
Her train of thought is broken by Quinn, and she turns to stare with an exasperated look. "What?"
"You've got roughly twenty minutes until the plane leaves. That's barely enough time for you to head back and catch it."
She shakes her head. "I don't care about that."
"Carrie, you need to go."
But the plan already changed in her head. "I'm staying."
He sighs. "You are incredibly bull-headed, you know that? That can get you killed around here."
"Then it's a good thing you gave me this gun." She aims her flashlight around the walls of the tight corridor they're in and a tattered map comes into view. "But you're right, we need to do this right. Methodical. You check the upper decks and I'll look around the bottom levels."
Quinn shakes his head at her. "We're not separating."
"We have to, there's too much ground to cover" she says, already distancing herself.
"Carrie, this isn't how things are done."
"It is when it's my assignment in play."
She heads down the stairs.
The rooms here are small and cramped, and they seem to become increasingly stuffy as Carrie progresses. Nothing but echoy and desolate corridors that are sending claustrophobic signals left and right. She starts taking smaller steps, looking around carefully, because if someone wanted to ambush her in this place it would be a piece of cake. Quinn's words of sticking together come to mind, but she shakes them away, reminding herself that this is her mission and that she was always meant to do it alone.
When the area turns out to be empty, Carrie starts descending a steel ladder that leads to the last level on the sub. She expects to find a lantern or an old mattress or something that points to the area being lived in. But so far it's nothing more than eerie darkness. She presses on, her eyes darting from left to right. And her ears pick something. It sounds like several people talking in excited tones but she can't make out what they're saying.
Carrie walks towards the door that leads to whatever is causing the chatter. She holds her breath and as she steps, making sure her boots aren't noisy. Once in front of the door, she realizes that it's ajar, and she peers inside. Carrie makes out at least five different people, all talking in Russian, and huddled before several crates. The submarine's cargo.
She wants to curse because there's no sign of her suspect and all of this has been a waste of time. Just as quietly as before, Carrie turns around.
And bumps right into three armed men.
Carrie can't outrun them, nor does she stand a chance in a fight. But she tries anyway. And it's not because there's a small possibility for her to get out of this alive, but because if she goes out kicking and screaming then Quinn will be able to hear the commotion and escape in time.
-o-
She didn't expect this. Carrie's mind went through various scenarios such as being shot once and left for dead or simply executed in the middle of the snowy plane. But being caught by the guards and thrown into a cell like a prisoner was never on her list.
But there is good news. While being hauled away from the sub and dragged back into the base, Carrie learned that the so-called supply room was actually a two level jail that looks built roughly three decades ago. And right across from her cell, but on another level, sits Hank Shaw.
For the rest of the day, Carrie sits and wonders if there's a way for her to not only escape, but also get Shaw out as well. But the prospects aren't great. Her only few possessions – the gun, flashlight, watch, and scope – are gone. And she can't believe that what she misses the most are her meds. She's been off them for almost two days now and Carrie can already feel her obsessive side taking control.
She theorizes that it must be close to midnight but the other prisoners refuse to quiet down. Carrie wonders if she could just zip her coat over her head when a series of footsteps reach her cell. Quinn wanders over and stops next to the wall by her cell, as if he's merely another guard patrolling about.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" Carrie whispers.
"I didn't think you'd be preoccupied with your beauty sleep right now."
"The reason I caused that commotion back there was so you'd take off before they caught you. You're not supposed to be here."
"If you tell me that you can escape by yourself, then I'll leave right now."
She decides to drop it because he has a point. "So how did you get in here anyway?"
"I've been here two weeks, Carrie. I've built trust with some of these people."
"Does that trust extend to getting me out?"
"No."
She sighs. "I really fucked this up. You should just leave before you blow your cover too."
"Carrie, you didn't blow your cover."
"If I didn't, then why didn't they shoot me on the spot?"
"Because they think your wealthy American boss is going to pay top dollar to get you out."
"Why would they think that?"
"They don't get a lot of pretty women around here. They just assumed you're sleeping with your boss because of the money." A pause. "I might've helped cement that idea in their heads."
She's temped to say thank you, but it would be too weird to thank someone for making them sound like a prostitute.
"By the way, you owe me a hundred dollars" she says.
"Just because we didn't find Shaw in the submarine doesn't mean he's not there."
"He's here. Fifth cell on the second level."
She waits until his eyes trail over the rows of cells that reside a few feet above their floor. He lets out a sound of disbelief. "Well fuck me. You just got so lucky."
"Try saying that from in here."
"He doesn't really look like the terrorist mastermind I thought he'd be."
"I know. So how are we supposed to get to him anyway?"
He shakes his head. "I don't know yet, but I'll come up with something by daybreak. You try and get some sleep until then."
"I can't. I'm going stir crazy in here."
"That's because you've been awake for two days."
She agrees that maybe it's time to take it easy until morning. When he leaves, Carrie is left by herself in the tiny cell, feeling vaguely lonely. But she convinces herself that she'll be out of it soon enough. It's just a matter of time.
Except that the time just doesn't seem to come.
Four days pass before Carrie lets go of the hope that she can find a way out. She desperately wants to be mad at someone, at Quinn for disappearing like he did or at Saul for sending her on this ice cube. But she can't because it's her own fault she's in this mess in the first place. She was careless and impulsive and now she has to pay for being sloppy.
She eventually decides that there's no point in obsessing over a way to escape because there really is none. Carrie sleeps for the remainder of her time.
Chaos erupts on the sixth day. She's not sure what happened because of the restricted view of her cell, but Carrie knows to take cover the second shots start firing. A blackout happens soon after, leaving only a few emergency lights blinking through the shadows, all the while screams persist and people rush towards the top level.
A guard is shot close to her cell. Carrie crawls towards him, stretches out her arm, and grabs his gun. Her moves are sluggish from staying still for almost a week and her hand is shaking, but she manages to take aim. She shoots the lock off her cell.
Once outside, Carrie stops to glance upward at Hank Shaw's chamber. The emergency light clearly illuminates his terrified face, and she's ready to bolt for the stairs towards his level. But Carrie only takes one step outside her cell when a bullet rips through the air. And it hits Shaw's head.
She takes off running. He can't be dead, not now, not when she had to endure a week on a desolate snowy plane. Not when she was so close. But the second she reaches his cell, it becomes clear that he's gone. And there's nothing she can do about it. Carrie kicks the cell in frustration.
She turns around a second later, her gun trained forward. Quinn emerges from the chaos.
Carrie lowers her gun. "What the hell is going on?"
"Come on" he says and pulls her along. They run for the exit.
Despite the darkness and confusion, Carrie has no problem making out several bodies lying in pools of blood in the corridor. She wants to ask again what happened but is suddenly wary of the answer. For the moment she just wants out. They wordlessly head out, side by side.
The outside snow is blinding her, and Carrie has to squint in order to see where they're going. Soon enough, the yells and chaos of the base start sounding more and more faint as they distance themselves from it.
"Where are we going?" she asks Quinn.
"It took me a while but I managed to contact someone to pick us up by boat in a few hours."
When she glances upwards, Carrie can see that they're heading towards the ocean bank.
"What happened back there?" she hears herself asking.
He waits for a moment. "I'm sorry it took me so long to get you out."
"It's fine. What happened?"
Quinn shakes his head once, as if telling her to drop it for now because she's in no state to discuss things. Or maybe he doesn't intend to tell her at all.
"I stole these a few days ago. Thought you might need them." He takes out a familiar watch and box of Tic Tacs from his pocket. "You should hide your meds better next time."
She's not sure what to say or if she should be angry that he risked blowing his cover over something like this. So Carrie just mumbles a thanks and puts the watch and box in her pocket without another thought.
"Did you ever get your assignment done?" she asks soon after.
He shakes his head.
"So you're bailing."
"Yeah."
A pause stretches between them.
"You never bail assignments" Carrie points out.
"And I'm not usually sent in the middle of nowhere. I've been here almost three weeks and solved nothing. I'm not waiting another month."
She decides to let it go, not because she believes him, but because she's too cold and tired to argue or even think straight. They continue walking in silence.
When they finally reach the bank, the dim light begins to draw back, leaving an ominous night ahead of them. They both stop before the frozen water, waiting. The skyline is gray and undisturbed by any sign of movement.
"My scope would've come in handy right now" Carrie says to herself.
Quinn frowns lightly. "Hmm?"
"I bought a telescopic sight when I came here. A small one that can be mounted on handguns. It would've been handy now as binoculars."
"Sorry" he says "I didn't have time to grab it."
She's about to turn her gaze back towards the water when something clicks in her head. The handgun in Quinn's possession is one of the models that's compatible with the scope she had. But he wouldn't have a reason to take it, let alone lie about it. Their job isn't about killing targets, and he wouldn't just shoot someone in cold blood.
But no matter how she tries to rationalize it, there's still that spark of doubt playing in her head, one that makes her wary of him. Because it could fit. Her missing scope, the sudden death of Shaw, Quinn's disinterest in his own assignment. It all fits in the messy happenings that the CIA seemed to have suddenly fallen in.
Quinn once told Carrie to follow her gut because it's usually right. But this time she really hopes it's not.