Saul knew it from the moment she arrived. There was no fire in her eyes, not even a spark. He thinks she may have convinced herself to come, that she had to. It's hard for him to image that she's done for good. There will come a time, and the flame will ignite - just not now.
He bustles through the early evening traffic. The urgency to get that list and to get her out of here before anyone finds out she was ever here becomes much more real. She's fragile and useless, now just a liability to them - to him.
Carrie packs her things one by one, pacified with how she's spending her time. These weren't props, but prizes she takes. The pictures, silly trinkets, the letters from her father; all the only things she has to prove she was ever here. It's at least something to show for.
The CIA has one agenda; depletion by design. Take everything you have until it's all you have left. When it's all you have left, you give yourself to it. It's what works best, but no more, not a damn thing more. She has nothing left to give them - beside that list. They can have it for all she cares.
Saul parks near the valet and waves them off knowing she should be down at any moment.
"Fuck Carrie. Where are you?" Saul talks to himself.
A few cars pull up, and he ducks. He recognizes some of them, as he's been frequently followed. Thankfully, he took a new car today.
He crouches further down, yet still keeping a close eye, and he almost doesn't notice he's been spotted. The evil glare on the driver's side window is familiar, too familiar. A blaze in these pair of eyes. There's absolutely no time to spare.
He dials and dials, hanging up a few times until finally reaching her.
"Carrie god damnit! They know you're here! I'm coming in!" He screams.
Fuck, this was the last thing she needed was a rushed departure. She'd actually been going through it all with a fine-toothed comb.
"No stay! I need you to stay in the car so we can leave the second I get outside. Do you hear me Saul!?"
"Fine. But stay on the line."
"Okay!"
She's out of there so fast that she ditches the key in the room, but forgets the list.
"Fuck!"
"What!?" Saul panics.
"Nothing. I'm coming." She waits and waits for the elevator to light up, but it becomes quite obvious that there's nothing coming at all. "Shit! The elevators are fucking frozen!"
She presses the button over and over, agitated with the result. Her palms sweat, she's anxious, but that fucking light just won't come on. Reliance on a moving metal box to keep her safe, she realizes just how bad of an idea it was to come here in the first place when her only redemption was in recovering the items that should have been home all along.
Saul keeps his cool given that she's the one in trouble, but does his best to offer help.
"Take the south stairs. The one that says employees only."
She closes her eyes just imaging how grueling it was going to be to do. In fact, it's damn near impossible.
"Saul?" The fear in her voice is piercing. He knows that she knows just how bad this really was. But it's no time to reminder her how against he was her coming here to begin with.
"Carrie I have to come in!"
"No, I got it!"
It'd been forgotten that she was on the 20th floor. She looks down the stairwell and knows it's futile and she'll never make it. There's absolutely no way around it, but she tries anyway because she must make it home.
Each step seems like a milestone, but she's hardly down the first flight. The voices seem imagined at first until they flow. They're coming, maybe a dozen flights down. She peeks into the 19th floor, but someone's there too. No where to go but up, surrounded.
After four flights of steps the sweat pools, she's shaking, exasperated. The misery of whether she'll ever catch her breath or not leaves her petrified. Total depletion of air, until she's on the roof. She crawls to the other side of wall surrounding the door, sits in the fetal position, and waits for more air. It comes suddenly, all at once, and it's okay again.
They're coming now. She can hear the echos getting closer and closer, but she's to exhausted to move. Maybe they'll just take her into custody and Saul with find a way to get her released. The hot sun beats down on her sheltered skin, and she can almost hear the hissing sound it makes.
She closes her eyes and imagines she's home, far away from here. Quinn's holding her tight letting her know that everything's okay. Now she's angry at herself all over again for the lies. He'll be so disappointed, even if he doesn't show it. That's just how good she has it.
They push and push until the door gives, finding her almost immediately.
"Get up!" They shout, but she doesn't hear them. She' still lost in her mind of where she'd rather be.
She's yanked off the ground by her hair and arms and the swell of pain is instant. This wasn't an arrest.
"You are going," one of them says as he hands a younger boy his gun.
They start dragging her, her feet slide against the roof and she helpless. She has to do something, say something, anything.
The energy spikes, the adrenaline appears - enough for a good jab to the rib cage - and she runs as fast as she possibly can, but there's nowhere to go. She finds herself on the edge of the building looking down 24 stories to a concrete slab. No ladder, no stairs, just a straight path to pavement, and they catch up almost a quickly as she ran.
"There's nowhere to go!" The man screams, grabbing hold of her arms again and turns her around.
"Leave me alone. I don't even know who you are!" She screams back, angry with the lack of control.
There's no register with her words, only a cold stare of empathy. He is sure to let her see that as he tilts her head slightly over the edge.
"Yes, but we know who you are."
He cocks his head at the boy, and the prior instructions seem clear as he raises the gun, holding it just below her chin.
"Do you know who this is?" He points to the teenager.
She takes a long, hard look at the kid and can see it in his eyes. The same eyes of the man she was hunting. She denies it anyways.
"No! Please! Let me go! I have a daughter," she takes a breath, not realizing that she's begun to cry, not realizing that she pleading for her life, only now realizing why she hadn't jumped before. "She needs me!"
"Well you see he doesn't have a father." It's as if she's only given them more fuel.
He prompts the boy to press the gun against her throat a little tighter, but he's clumsy and shaking. She can tell it's not in him to pull that trigger. He' not like his father.
"I can give you anything you want. I will leave here and never come back again! Please!"
"Some things are irreplaceable."
It's insane, but wasn't that the truth.
The heat seems to spread and sun rays boil everything they touch. She feels her neck smoldering from the heat of the barrel against her sensitive skin. But it's her heart that hurts the most, because she knows she's not going to make it off this rooftop alive.
This moment in time had been anticipated before, all under her own will. There's no choice now, no going back. This grave was dug the second she got on that plane.
She thinks of her life for a moment and only a moment. There's nothing to think about. Just that it happened and it's about to end. And when the kid can't do it and the gun finds someone else hands, the only thing she knows is that she needs a moment more.
No evaluation, she just does it, hardly hearing the bullet that just missed her. She thinks about Quinn for a second, but can only think about Franny, just her. It's all that she can see.
Her presence, her existence will remain and she'll miss it all. Soothing her when all has gone wrong and making her laugh when all is right. The unexplainable joy that was a gift in the last few months in her life. It's all she can remember.
She knows what's about to happen, but that's okay. What's not okay is how she left them, how she abandon them without saying a word, and what they're going to think. Funny that it's ending with regret, just how she'd always imagined. She just never imagined it with other people on the line.
Carrie sees that little girl's face, and won't let it fade away. Her bright, happy, cherubic face. If she could, she'd change just about everything she's ever done. Go back and just fix it all, except Franny. How lucky is she to be thinking about someone so exhilarating, when she should be mortified. But she has the moment and that's all she can think about, and then nothing, nothing at all.
A/n:
I know
I know
I know
Don't hate me, it's been the plan ALL along. It will never happen again. It's just "what if" Carrie went too far in Pakistan type of thing. And couldn't stop it.
P.s. I'm writing a one shot sequel called 'cold spell' with how Quinn copes. It just won't fit with this story's end and will work much better on it's own.