4.11 Part 2
Carrie leaves the German embassy woman's place in a huff, wonders who the fuck gave Quinn's German bitch the right to question her faith in him.
She gets in the embassy SUV, thinks to herself that the real question is which Quinn they are talking about - the homicidal time bomb currently ticking down or the guy sick of killing, trying to escape the endless cycle of death.
Because she has a lot of faith in the latter Quinn, the one she's gotten to know in the past two years. And Carrie thinks it's appropriately ironic that she has to do this for him now because of everything he's been telling her all along. He made his own bed, she thinks. And now I'm going to make him fucking sleep in it.
And actually she has a perverse burning faith in the other Quinn too, knows he has exactly the skills to pull off the op, take out Haqqani. But the hard part comes after - alone in a hostile environment with everyone trying to kill you. And then after that too, when the burn of vengeance fades and he's left with more deaths on his hands.
Despite what the German woman said - her little story of Quinn wanting out but never going through with it - Carrie is fairly certain it's different this time. She didn't know him then but she knows despair when she sees it. He's lost an edge since killing that kid, dulled but still lethal. She should never have begged him to come back, should have fucking listened to him for once, taken a look at all the signs.
She had never seen him like that before but at the time she remembers thinking Quinn's newfound drinking problem and obvious PTSD were just more annoyances she had to put up with. More obstacles in getting what she wanted out of him.
Now Carrie realizes she should have been fucking worried about him back then, way before she helped push him off the deep end. But she hadn't been thinking about him then. And now he's the only thing she can think of.
Because he's right about all of it, she made him come back and now if he dies it's all on her. And losing both her dad and Quinn in the span of two days is not an option.
Carrie's heart freezes for a moment just thinking about it before her phone rings to knock her out of another spiral of regrets.
It's Max on the other end, saying something about the drone footage of Haqqani shooting Aayan getting released online. Which should be fucking impossible - the access to that footage limited to only a select few. So even before they tell her that the video was uploaded from the medical school she's suspicious of what's going on.
"It's not medical students, it's Quinn," she says.
"What?" Max asks, not catching on.
"He's trying to flush Haqqani out," she replies, seeing Quinn's plan laid out in her head.
"Why?" Max asks again, reminding her why he's the tech guy and not an analyst.
"Because he can't get in," Carrie says, feeling her heart begin to pound as she realizes that it's all about to happen and she only has one chance at this.
Finally Max gives her the pertinent info about the call to action out front of Haqqani's hideout and Carrie hollers at her driver to turn the SUV around. Her chest is tight with anticipation and fear, hopes she isn't too late already.
The traffic starts to pile up as they near the demonstration and Carrie swears to herself - is both pissed off and rather impressed by Quinn's move. He's a fucking clever boy, she thinks. It's a good plan without a lot of ways for it to get screwed up. Right up to the point where Haqqani's dead and Quinn's branded a terrorist. Or, more accurately, right up to the point where she gets a step ahead of him and saves him from his own ingenuity.
Carrie gets out of the car, starts walking towards the protest, every nerve in her body taut, ready to fire. This is it, she thinks. There have been a lot of tense moments since she's been in Islamabad, but it all suddenly pales compared to the minutes ahead. She holds his life in her hands and nothing is going to make her let go, not even her own desire for revenge or Quinn's incandescent anger.
Because she knows exactly what it's like, when you just don't care about the personal cost anymore. When you're past the point of rational thought. It's why she can't join him this time - they can't teeter on the brink together. Someone has to fucking stay on the side of sanity amidst the utter insanity of it all.
A thousand things run through her head as Carrie pushes through the crowd, scanning for Quinn on nearby balconies.
And it's then she realizes it, that there is something in her fate to be up front and close for moments like these. Aayan, Haqqani, her. All tied together by some cosmic string. She was meant to be here, in the middle of it all. Chasing Quinn who's chasing Haqqani. To save the stubborn motherfucker from himself. Because he would do the same for her. Because she is becoming inordinately desperate about losing him too.
Carrie floats up to the front, hasn't spotted Quinn yet. And then the gate begins to open and she plays the only card she has left, steps onto a truck and pulls off her headscarf. She can't be any more conspicuous and she can feel Khan's eyes on her from just beyond the crowd.
Time freezes for a moment as she looks out at the crowd. Hundreds of people, packed in tight, a large amount of C4 underneath their feet. Their lives are in the hands of a very angry man and none of them will ever understand why they died.
She thinks of Quinn's livid eyes. Usually she likes him like that - on edge, alive. Like when he physically stopped her from dropping the bomb on Haqqani.
Payback's a bitch, isn't it Quinn, she thinks as her phone begins to ring. It's her cue to get off the truck, put the headscarf back on.
"What the fuck are you doing?" he fires at her.
She thinks he knows exactly what she's doing, just doesn't want to accept it yet.
"You can't do this," she replies, feeling anxiety rise in her chest.
"Get away from there!" Quinn demands and she thinks he sounds a bit desperate already, tries not to consider the possibility he's too far gone to make the right choice.
"A bomb goes off they'll know it's you," she tries to explain, knowing it will be no use.
"Move the fuck away," he growls back.
"Look around you," she pleads. "There are three hundred soldiers, you're completely surrounded, you'll never get away. There's no escape."
He's finally quiet for a moment and she knows he's scanning the area, evaluating the truth of her statement.
"I don't wanna lose you," she says, hoping against hope that he hears what she's saying.
"You have no fucking right," he retorts.
I have every right, she thinks. And you gave them to me yourself.
"Do you hear me?" she fires back. "I can't lose you, Quinn."
She can hear him breathing on the line, quick and shallow as the SUV exits the compound, drives past her in slow motion. Carrie watches it roll over the grate, involuntarily tenses her shoulders.
Rationally she knows he won't do it but when the moment sits in front of her she realizes she hasn't been breathing, her chest constricted in anticipation. She pictures Quinn's finger on the trigger, thinks there's still a chance this is her last minute on earth. She wonders if she really knows him as well as she thinks. And that this is a hell of a way to test her trust in a guy who hates her fucking guts right now.
Quinn's finger flickers just above the button, and he almost wishes for a sudden twitch to make the decision for him. But he knows he's fooling no one, certainly not himself. The decision was made with the first flash of blonde.
He can't quite believe he hasn't physically exploded from excess emotion. All the fucking anger and despair, the hate... and a hard, bitter type of love. Captured in a freeze frame, the SUV rolling right over the bomb, Carrie a foot away. In the middle of everything, as usual.
He still can't believe she found a way to stop his plan. Of all the things he had factored in, he hadn't truly accounted for Carrie. Which, in retrospect, was fucking fatal.
He had thought she'd give up once he made it hard on her. From what he could see she'd fucking given up on everything else already. But of course he didn't factor in her lethal stubbornness, her ability to be right at the centre of the action.
Quinn has to admit she fucking outplayed him. Which just doesn't happen.
You have no fucking right! he mentally screams at Carrie as the moment loses all potential energy. Quinn can't even start to contain the onrush of anger, frustration as the SUV drives off safely.
He stares at the blonde demon he is somehow entangled with. Can't fathom why the fuck he would ever be so stupid as to tie his emotions up in such a destructive force.
"Goddamn you, Carrie," Quinn says, hoping she hears all of his hate, sorrow, frustration, anger. He is fucking emotionally strung out and about to lose his mind. Maybe he's lost it already. Could have sworn there was an instant he was going to push the button. And another one where he panicked because he thought he had.
But he doesn't have time to think about what happened in the tower, the soldier in him kicking into gear. If he's going to get out he has to move right away and muscle memory gets him going, scanning the streets for an exit, checking out the formation of the soldiers. Although it would fucking serve her right if he still got caught after she fucking stood over his bomb, daring him to really go off the deep end.
Immediately Quinn sees that Carrie wasn't lying, the soldiers are fucking everywhere. And he's sure there's plainclothes agents in the crowd too. He mentally maps out his planned escape route overtop of what he can see, thinks he will have to definitely make some changes to his plans.
Takes a high route as much as he can, trying to make distance via balconies and rooftops, in and out of buildings, on alert for any hint of recognition. Thinks he's past the main group of soldiers when someone stops and looks his way for a moment too long. he forces himself not to run, play it calm. Takes a side route, hopes the guy didn't get enough of a look to confirm.
Turns a corner and the same guy is getting out his phone. Quinn ducks back before he's spotted then runs at the guy, straight arms him in the throat and slams him to the ground, punches him hard enough to knock him out. He takes the guy's cell phone and smashes it, then looks around quickly to find his next move.
Down the alley, over a wall, up a ladder, across two rooftops to get past three different checkpoints. A soldier turns his way as Quinn scurries across a courtyard and he thinks he's done for when another soldier spots him scaling a wall and starts to fire. Thankfully the other side of the wall leads to a maze of alleyways and more rooftops to run across.
Finally Quinn finds himself on a deserted roof, takes a moment to sit against the wall. He can just barely hear the Haqqani mob but he thinks he's relatively safe for now. This is a good as place as any to wait out any lingering ISI guys, he thinks. Or until it's dark.
Quinn leans back, lets himself unwind a bit after the tenseness of the day. But all he can think of is how pissed off he is with Carrie. Which doesn't help relieve the tenseness at all. He can still see her standing there on top of his bomb, daring him to press the button, literally putting her life in his hands.
And some part of him had badly wanted to call her bluff. To just trigger the bomb and let it all be over. Because if he had made that sacrifice, Quinn's certain he wouldn't bother running - and suicide by ISI would be easy enough.
But even just thinking about it had made his gut ache. Carrie, blown to a million pieces, nothing left of her. He remembers his thumb twitching over the trigger, electric with devastating possibility. She had forced that power on him, an ultimatum only Carrie could have concocted. He wonders how sure she was in her gamble, if she held any doubt in him.
And he just keeps thinking - who the fuck gave her the right to make that choice for him?
Quinn ignores the tiny voice that says she gained that right when he made the same choice for her. That it was his own fucking fault for letting her get too close. He's still too fucking pissed off she figured out a way to stop him. He doesn't often lose. And he had this one perfectly aligned.
Fucking Carrie he thinks, over and over.
And then his phone rings.
Carrie still can't believe it's over, that she won. Not much of a victory in the grand scheme of things, but after everything they've been through she thinks this is the only one that mattered. He's alive. And hasn't become a terrorist, another few hundred souls tacked onto his account.
She feels all her pent up emotion empty for an instant. Her mission is done. Quinn may be royally pissed at her for the rest of his life but at least he'll live. For once she got what she wanted, she thinks. Thank god.
Carrie's stirred out of her thoughts as Haqqani drives by and, not quite consciously, she starts to follow the crowd around his vehicle. And then suddenly he's standing up, out the sunroof, and it's a surreal, mesmerizing scene.
A flash in her mind. The drone footage. Aayan, shot in the head. Just a boy, caught in a game he didn't understand.
Her hand's on her weapon before she even realizes it. This is the way, she thinks. No collateral damage. Just her. And Haqqani.
Carrie starts to draw her gun, vaguely realizes she's not acting rationally anymore. But it's a once in a lifetime chance, although it comes with an accordingly hefty price.
Cocks it. Wonders if she's really going to do this. Thinks it's becoming more and more possible with every step she takes.
Has just a second to wonder if Quinn will be pissed off. Or just glad to be rid of her finally, through no fault of his own. And he of all people should understand.
At least she can complete his mission for him, Carrie thinks as she raises the gun. Two last deaths to finish the cycle.
Quinn looks at the phone and of course it's her. He groans, doesn't answer. But she calls back and he knows she won't stop until he picks up. He thinks of her as a human battering ram, just keeps smashing at your defenses until your resolve splinters.
Which is why she always fucking wins. And it's really starting to piss him off.
But of course he answers the phone on her fourth call.
"I have something to tell you," she says brusquely, as if she hadn't just emotionally destroyed him.
And I have some things to fucking tell you, Quinn thinks.
"Fuck you, Carrie," he responds.
Carrie sighs irritably and he can picture her exactly. There's a part of him that thinks he could physically hurt her if she were there right now. But mostly he just wants to get her out of his head, not think about everything she just fucked up.
"No, I mean it," she replies. "There's something you need to know."
For fuck's sake, Quinn thinks. What the hell could she be up to now?
"Well say it then," he growls.
"Has to be in person," she responds. "Not on this line."
He thinks she sounds serious, is not jerking him around. And once again he closes his eyes and sighs.
"I fucking hate you, Carrie," he says tiredly.
"I know," she replies. "But I had to do it. No more dying, Quinn."
Fuck you, Carrie, he thinks. You had no fucking right.
"Meet me at the embassy," she adds. "I've made sure you'll get through."
What makes her think he's going to meet her? Right now he could do with never seeing her again. It would be the smartest move by far, he thinks.
"Quinn?" she asks when he doesn't respond.
Go fuck yourself Carrie, he thinks.
"Quinn?" she asks again after he still doesn't say anything.
Fuck, he thinks. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Quinn hangs up without answering but knows he'll meet with her in the end. He just doesn't want to acknowledge it, admit it.
Fucking Carrie. She always fucking wins.