The thuds in his chest begin thrashing louder than he can control. He wants it to stop the noise, so that he can hear hers too as he gets closer. Blood is everywhere not knowing exactly whose it is. With an accumulation around her head, he lifts her up to inspect bullet wound. The atmosphere is so humid, he can barley grip her head. He screams at himself in knowing that he could have stopped this somehow, resenting his actions. "Aghhhh fuck! Fuck!"

When he finally gets a decent grip, he notices where the bullet had really hit and that her head had been bleeding from the fall. He presses his hand tight on her lower back, slowing the flow, lifts her up and rushes towards the embassy hospital. Quinn can hardly feel her breath on his neck, but knows she's still with him.

The hospital has it's own entrance, untouched to his knowledge being so secluded. His bloody banging on the door however, does nothing but frighten the staff who are not prepared for such mayhem. One inexperienced nurse in training is brave enough to approach the door smeared in blood, greeting Quinn's desperate eyes. She's seen his face and hers before and opens the door against protocol. The staff around them dismiss the inaccuracy and immediately begin to question Quinn about Carrie, while the other half ask about what's going on.
He's scattered when answering them, pacing and running his fingers through his head.

"She got shot... there's a breach... we didn't train for this... help her... she's breathing... there will be more people coming in."

"Quinn right? Can I call you that?" One of the nurses who's been eyeing him up in recent weeks asks.

"Yeah, yeah. what!" He says frantically.

"Okay Quinn, I'm going to need you to back away from her so we can work on her," she says as if she's speaking to a child.

"What? Back what?"

"You can sit in there and wait," she points. "We have showers and beds there."

"I can't sit!' He backs away slowly. "I can't fucking sit!"

"Okay?" The nurse says sensing the panic and anger simultaneously echoing through his voice.

"I have to get out there! I have to go get more people," he proclaims. He bursts through the entrance demanding to take back control.

After dropping his weapon, he returns the the armory to acquire a new weapon. His emotions are getting to him and he can't think straight. The guilt in his actions still with him.

"How many of these fuckers are left?" He asks a Marine while choosing his weapon.

"They're going down quick, but still no sign of Haqqani."

Haqqani? That's right this was fucking Haqqani!

His search is soon after. Thinking about where he could be in exhausting his already worn mind. He only finds the mental energy knowing that he was responsible for hurting Carrie. To make a point perhaps, but what?

Fate is kind to him when he spots him fleeing from the work quarters. Running away like an animal being hunted. He had to know someone would come for him. His pace however weakened by his illness, still not entirely known to Quinn.

The struggle is almost non-existant while in Quinn's forceful clutch. He can feel himself crush a few of Haqqani's ribs with a forceful jab to the abdomen. Quinn's weapon would not be needed, as his hands are squeezing the life out of him taking his hands to his throat. Just before his threshold for consiousness is reached, Quinn takes a second to interrogate him

"What the fuck are you gaining from this? What were you expecting from this?"

Haqqani still catching his breath, composes himself enough to speak."What do I want? Nothing."

"This is what this is about right? For you to take control?" Quinn spits.

"Me? This isn't about me," he utters. "I'm going to die soon. I don't give a fuck about me!"

"You what!?"

"This is for my children and their children. To let them know that it's never to late to fight for a worthy cause," he finishes now out of breath.

"A fucking worthy cause?"

"To let America know we are sick of their crimes. This won't end when I'm gone you know."

Quinn releases him, sits back and puts his head in his hands. "You're wrong," Quinn shouts.

"And why do you say that?" The fragile man says, halfway sitting up.

"Because I won't let that happen... and neither will... will..." he struggles to continue.

"Carrie? Is that what you are going to say? She is on her way to Kabul. There she will be publically executed for the world to see. We will let American know how unwelcome they really are. One Station chief at a time."

Quinn finds his footing again hovering dangerously over Haqqani, knife in hand.

"Are you going to kill me?" Haqqani asks pretending not to be afraid of him.

"Yes!"

"You'll just be doing me a favor."

"That's not exactly what's gong to happen."

Quinn swiftly kneels and Haqqani attempts to fight him, not making any progress. He plunges the knife straight into Haqqani's gut, ensuring a slow, agonizing death. Quinn savors his groaning knowing all the misery he has caused for them, especially Carrie.


It's a full week of waiting before she finally opens her eyes. He smiles not caring how she reacts, but is happy to see when she sees him that she's smiling back. She flutters her eyes a bit more and inspects the IV and heart rate monitor. It's apparent that she doesn't remember what happened. The silence lingers for a few moments until he breaks the ice.

"How... how are you feeling?" he asks carefully.

"Like I'm on a lot of drugs."

His grins widens, "you are."

"What happened to me?"

"You got shot."

"I figured. Jesus! The last thing i remember Tasneem was... about to shot you. What the fuck happened Quinn?"

His look says it all.

"Wait why are we still here?"

"They're gone Carrie."

"All of them!?"

"All of them."

"Everyone's okay?" She asks cautiously.

"Everyone's fine."

She smiles.

"Your sister called. She heard about the attack. wanted to know if you were okay."

She attempts to turn as he says this, not able to being propped to her side.

"Oh."

"She's worried about you," he continues.

"I know."

"So am I," he gulps, worried for what was coming.

"Don't be Quinn. I'm fine. And I'll call my sister, I will."

"Yeah," he stands and searches out the window looking for anything.

The rattling and fumbling behind him prepares him, only partially. But he wanted to be the one there. He listens as the bars on the bed are being forced and recognizes the heavy breathing that he had done the week before, but worse.

"Quinn... Quinn!' She cries.

He thought he was ready, but realizes he's not.

"Jesus Quinn is the fucking bandage on my head that fucking bad to stare at. Fucking look at me! Quinn!"

"Hey, hey. What's going on in here?" The nurse says walking in. "Ms. Mathison you need to stay in bed. If you need assistance one of us will come help you."

"Come help me? What the fuck do you mean come help me? The only fucking problem is that I can't get the fuck out of bed. What the fuck did you numb me with!?"

Quinn faces them ready to intervene.

"She doesn't know yet," he stops the nurse.

"Quinn... Quinn please just telling what the fuck is going on!? Please," she begs.

"Carrie... the bullet hit part of your spine."