Warning this chapter contains SWEARING similar to the programme.
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THE DATE
CHAPTER 2
Peter Quinn was becoming increasingly annoyed at the lingering shadow that had appeared over his shoulder, whilst he sat typing furiously at the laptop on his desk. The unidentified owner of the masculine form was seriously encroaching too close into his private work zone. He turned aggressively and saw a grinning Rudy McCoy. The same man that he had been thinking about, contemptuously, for most of the morning.
"You're Peter Quinn, right?" McCoy grabbed Quinn's cool hand with his own warm one and shook it firmly. "I'm Rudy McCoy. I worked with Carrie and Saul in Beirut. I'm very pleased to finally meet you."
Quinn frowned at McCoy's perfectly defined pectoral muscles that were straining through his blue linen shirt. He snatched his hand back. "Yeah I know who you are. According to Carrie, you didn't just work with her... you saved her life."
Quinn sourly air-quoted the last four words before unconsciously running his hands, comparatively, down his khaki cotton shirt, feeling his own solid torso beneath. It was also a sub-conscious attempt to smooth his psychologically ruffled feathers and to expel the lingering heat that had unexpectedly permeated from McCoy's hand into his own.
McCoy looked away shyly, before he humbly and dismissively shrugged off the life-saving accolade. Then he assertively leant down to Quinn's ear and breathed softly. "You're one of Dar Adal's. A black ops guy, right?"
Quinn jerked away immediately. He stared up at McCoy suspiciously before standing, brusquely, in an attempt to regain his sense of alpha-masculinity and personal space that was being seriously violated. Quinn was already fractionally taller than McCoy, but he emphatically stiffened his spine and shoulders, in an endeavour to look and feel more powerful.
McCoy's eyes twinkled as he smiled warmly and touched Quinn's shoulder gently. "Hey, don't worry, Quinn, relax. I'm one of Dar Adal's too. I'm just here to brief you."
Quinn's eyes widened before he exhaled and slightly relaxed for a nano-second, unconsciously basking in the potent aura of Rudy McCoy. He scratched his head. "What's going on?"
McCoy checked over his shoulder before he pulled something small from the pocket of his chinos and showed it to Quinn. "Recognise this guy?"
Quinn frowned at the passport-sized photograph lying in McCoy's palm. "Yeah of course I do. It's Nicholas Brody. The suicide bomber."
"Look at the date on the back of the photo." McCoy flipped the photograph over and pinched it, raising it closely to Quinn's face. Quinn teased it gently from between McCoy's warm fingers.
"Ummm... Hey, that's the date the car bomb went off at Walden's Memorial Service and they all died. The day Brody died too..." Quinn grimaced and his blue eyes gazed into McCoy's with growing confusion.
"Look at the time on it, Quinn." McCoy inhaled sharply and quickly stroked the small black numbers printed on the back of the photograph, with his index finger.
"Fuck me!" Quinn gasped in shock and inadvertently grabbed the cuff of McCoy's blue linen shirt. Their matching blue eyes locked again. "Was this photo taken after Brody's bomb went off?"
A pale, strained man stared up at them blankly and lonesomely, from the small passport photograph. McCoy nodded solemnly, before jabbing the two-dimensional face. He whispered aggressively. "This fucking Brody guy, he's still alive and out there somewhere."
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Stay tuned for chapter 3 soon!