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Four days after Annie's talk with Joan. . .

Chapter 2

"Joan! What can I do for you?" answered McQuaid as he looked at his watch, it was 7:58 a.m.

"Is Annie with you?" asked Joan.

He was always able to get to the nitty gritty when people spoke to him. He developed this skill, honed it to allow him to see through people and what they really wanted from him and as soon as she spoke he could hear genuine concern in her voice.

"I didn't expect her back until around dinnertime tonight, another 10 hours from now, she hasn't call me like she usually does before she boards," said Ryan as got on his computer. He knew if Joan Campbell were to call him searching for his fiancé, something had gone wrong on their mission.

"Annie is back in D.C. She wasn't feeling well so I ordered her to get. . ."

Ryan cut her off gruffly.

"How long ago did she leave the airstrip?" He knew all the CIA airstrips in the D.C. area. He could get to any of them in no time.

"It's been nearly an hour, I've tried her cell and apartment multiple times and we've been monitoring local emergency rooms for a woman fitting her description."

"And you're just calling me now?"

Alarms were sounding in his brain. Monitoring emergency rooms? That didn't sound good at all and why hadn't Annie called herself. That was their routine, their protocol. Ryan had the phone to his shoulder while he typed on his computer. He tracked Annie's car to her apartment. She had taken it to airstrip when she left for her mission. "Her car is at her place. I'm heading over there now," he said hastily.

"I'm not going to ask how and why you're able to track her car. . .it came in handy. Call me when you know she's okay, maybe she's just sleeping it off," said Joan somewhat relieved.

"What the hell happened and I want the truth Joan!" demanded Ryan while on the move. He scribbled a note for Costa-who had yet to arrive at work-to cancel all his appointments and ran to his car. He sped out of his parking spot with determination.

"I can't give you the details except to say she was on a solo mission that got hairy, but she got the job done. I have to get back to my command center. Call my office when you find her."

"Where the hell was she and what do you mean by hairy?"

"Honestly, I don't know many details. I haven't gotten her after action report yet."

"Fuck that Joan, she better be okay," Ryan said curtly as he threw his phone into the passenger seat of his Porsche 911 and continued speeding towards Annie's apartment.

The normal drive time from his office to Annie's D.C. apartment takes 17 minutes. Ryan made it in 11 minutes flat during the busy morning commute. He broke several traffic rules and made ample use of his horn during the drive. He also picked his phone back up and tried Annie's numbers repeatedly. As he tapped his thumbs on his steering wheel, he tried to tell himself that it was Annie and she always came out on top. It was a combination of her instinct, incredible skills and sheer luck. But he couldn't shake the horrible feeling that something was amiss. She was back in D.C., she always called when she was on her way. Always. Why didn't she call him? The last time he spoke to her was the previous afternoon, she said she'd be home in time for dinner the next day, but she would be unable to call him until she was done. After their call, Ryan had gone out and bought ingredients for dinner including her favorite ice cream in anticipation of her return. He also picked up their wedding invitations from the printer, they planned to stamp and address them together.