Caught In The Spiral
When Annie arrives in Maracaibo in pursuit of Borz Altan, the last person she expects to see is Ryan McQuaid.
When she first met him, she immediately pegged him as an insufferable, vainglorious type. Now she can add suspicious to her growing list of concerns. Why was he here, and what did he want with Borz Altan anyways?
Not only does McQuaid continue to dodge her questions, but he also seems adamant about getting in her way. From their initial run in at the Mosque, and now the debacle at Plaza Mejor, McQuaid's proving to be an even bigger pain in the ass than she expected. Thanks to him, Borz's contact is dead, and Borz himself is likely leaving a trail of blood across the city courtesy of the McQuaid Securities funded bullet lodged in his leg. There's nothing like making a scene in the middle of broad daylight, in a crowded public place no less, to get the local police's attention.
Real Mexican stand off indeed.
To say she's pissed is an understatement.
What's more infuriating is that Annie didn't plan on spending her afternoon handcuffed and sitting with McQuaid on the sidewalk, baking in the Venezuela summer sun. She's determined to sit and brood, mourning the loss of her gun to the sewage systems of Maracaibo, and watching with growing agitation for the police officer that confiscated her nitrate medication.
Despite her best efforts to ignore McQuaid (who chatters on beside her as if being detained in a foreign country is a normal, everyday thing for him), Annie finds herself baited back into the conversation, not wanting to admit that his devil-may-care attitude is starting to intrigue her. Even his valiant attempts to recruit her are amusing, and before long he has the usually stoic Annie Walker laughing again, much to her own surprise.
"Soldiers, spies, poets, teachers, these are the most unappreciated professions I know. Now I can't fix the poets or the teachers, but people like you? I can you show you you're appreciated."
"You don't know me at all."
She shakes her head at him, rolling her eyes behind her sunglasses. He smiles back at her, bright eyed and sincere, even after everything. His persistence is admirable, attractive even, but he's making an assumption that he can help her.
She doesn't have the heart to tell him she's too far beyond help.
McQuaid leaves her there on the sidewalk under the pretense that's she's chosen sides, and that she's being punished for choosing the wrong one. She wants to be mad, but even when she watches him dump her cellphone, the one she planted on his SUV, she finds herself more entertained by his antics than angry.
She decides she'll let him win just this once.
Underestimating her though, will be McQuaid's first and last mistake. Before long she's talked her way out of the handcuffs, no bribes filled with American money necessary - just a story about a boob job and the personality of a ditzy, impressionable blonde to swoon the Maracaibo police officer in her favor.
She tries not to panic when he tells her he doesn't know where her nitrate medication is.
She tries to ignore the dizzy feeling that hits her as she walks back to her car.
In the past the chase would have been a welcome challenge, the race, the running, a source of adrenaline, a hit for someone addicted to the the rush.
Now it's like playing a game of Russian Roulette, and she's the one holding the gun.
Annie flies down the trail in hot pursuit of a fleeing Borz, cussing McQuaid the entire time, because a man with a bullet in his leg shouldn't be able to outrun her (that good of a shot my ass). Her heart is racing in her chest, but she ignores it, determination driving her forward. She tackles Borz on the dock just as he tries to unmoor the small boat waiting for him there.
It's a short struggle, but fierce nonetheless. He manages to get the tire iron (her MacGyver weapon of the day in lieu of her deceased pistol) out of her hands, but it doesn't deter her. Under normal circumstances Borz might have been able to overpower her, but he's injured and exhausted. Annie's vicious right hook to the head is enough to stop him.
Borz collapses, but Annie does too.
She can feel it coming, the sound of her pulse always turns into a deafening echo inside her head right before it happens. The world spins in slow motion. She tries to steady herself on her hands and knees, but her body is failing her and she falls to her side. She'll never be able to prepare herself for the indescribable agony of not being able to breathe - of drowning.
Convulsing, her lungs constricted, her heart screaming for relief, that's when she sees the boat on the river.
She sees Ryan.
Then darkness.
She's disoriented when she wakes up, temporarily terrified, and she almost attacks the doctor hovering over her. She would have too, if it weren't for McQuaid stopping her. She falls back onto the bed in reluctant defeat. He watches her from across the room, assuring her that she's safe here, arms crossed and pensive; a sentinel.
The doctor questions her about her vitals, and she begrudgingly admits to her heart condition because she has no choice. She hates it, this weakness, because it reduces her to a state of vulnerability she has no control over.
Annie refuses to meet McQuaid's eyes. She doesn't want his patronization or his pity. Her admission exposes the fact that she isn't invincible, that she isn't indestructible, that she's breaking.
So she doesn't see the way he looks at her in those few seconds.
She doesn't see the way it breaks him.
Annie stays out on the deck of McQuaid's safe house for a good while after speaking with Auggie on the phone. She wants to compose herself before going back inside, because the last thing she needs any of them to think - McQuaid especially - is that her emotional state is as volatile as her heart.
She loses track of time, and her distant stare out toward the ocean from her perch against the wood railing is interrupted by the sound of footsteps behind her. She spins around to see McQuaid standing in the open doorway, debating with himself on whether or not to step the rest of the way outside or stand still. He has a paper bag in his hand.
They stand awkwardly for a moment, neither one of them sure of the other.
"I thought you might be hungry," he gestures to the bag, and finally steps forward, offering it to her with a genuine smile that catches her off guard. "I got us some pabellón criollo, from this awesome food stand down the road, I wasn't sure if you'd eaten anything…"
Annie eyes him skeptically, and McQuaid rolls his eyes.
"I promise it's not poisoned, Walker, now c'mon - eat."
McQuaid gestures to the small deck table and proceeds to take a seat, placing the bag on the table top and pulling out two take-out containers and some plastic dinner ware, ignoring the unconvinced look on her face as she stands there and watches him. After a moment of indecision, Annie rounds the table and sits across from him.
"Thanks." Annie murmurs softly.
"Yeah." McQuaid nods. "No problem."
He pauses what he's doing to look up at her, and she catches him staring, but this time she doesn't look away.
"Are you ok?" He asks. The question is sincere, concerned.
She's hesitant to answer, hesitant to trust him. Her wary nature stems from a myriad of reasons, but mostly because she doesn't understand why he's so worried. She doesn't understand why he cares.
"Honestly? I'm not sure."
He nods again, but much to Annie's surprise he doesn't press her, and they both begin to eat without saying anything else. The silence that follows is comfortable, easy, so much so that it almost feels normal. It almost feels familiar.
When Ryan looks up a second time, she's the one caught staring.
AN: You guys really rock! I'm digging that you're digging it - ha! Seriously the reviews are great. Hope you enjoy Annie's POV again, we'll have more Ryan the next round. I am taking your ideas into consideration so don't be afraid to tell me. Special thanks once more to Primadonna001! Also I never asked, but did y'all love 510 or what? I'm hating the hiatus, but I'm pumped to have this story and you guys to share the break with. I hope you enjoy it! xoxo