Chapter 16
Annie's heart sank and her chest tightened. She realized what this meant. The question remained as to whether or not she was ready to face it.
She wrestled with the tangled threads of anxiety that held her back, the option to duck out an all-too-tempting possibility. Yet, despite her instinct to flee, the voice of reason inside her head - the one that had been absent of late - knew that continuing to avoid the inevitable confrontation only prolonged the torment. She bent over to pick up the clothes and began to put them on, becoming instantly aware that Auggie had worn the shirt recently. She could smell the heady mixture of days-old cologne and the salty tang of sweat - so familiar - reminding her of happier, less complicated times, but at the same time adding to her impending dread. The sound of Danielle's door closing discretely from further down the hall alerted her, and, noting that Eyal's door was also shut, she forced herself to move slowly toward the living room.
Knowing what waited for her there, Annie paused at the threshold of the hall, steeling herself with closed eyes and a deep breath.
Walking into that room - not running away- was quite possibly one of the most difficult acts of courage she would ever have to force herself to make.
She stood directly in doorway now, eyes falling to where Auggie sat alone on the couch. His headphones hung around his neck, and his arms were crossed, head leaned back and eyes closed as if he had dozed off. His laptop was still open, the screen the only light in the room, casting a soft glow where he sat. In that moment Annie stopped and allowed herself to stare, wanting to memorize his face, because she could not remember the last time he had seemed so at ease.
She remembered standing in a doorway like this, watching him, another lifetime, another world away. It was seared into her memory, a painful reminder of how they had ended up here.
He must have caught the sound of a slight movement, because he opened his eyes and straightened up, facing the doorway. Facing her.
"Hi." Annie spoke quietly, trying to keep the emotion of those memories out of her voice.
"Hey." He said it gently and then stopped. Not usually one to struggle with words, Auggie suddenly seemed at a loss for them.
They lingered in an uncomfortable silence, the tension and heartache of the past few months hanging like a smoke screen in the air between them, palpable and overwhelming. Auggie removed his headphones from his neck, setting them on the coffee table alongside his laptop before adjusting his seat to face her fully. Annie could already feel her heart in her throat, the words in her head racing to form sentences that would give explanations, but they felt frozen and heavy on the tip of her tongue. Auggie waited for her, patiently. He always had. He always would.
She ended the silence. "So we're doing this?" She forced the question, breathless, broken, out of her mouth.
He nodded in affirmation, a simple gesture for a not-so-simple situation. "We're doing this."
For the first time in months, Annie felt a weight lifting. She stepped into the room. Auggie moved a little, tracking the sounds of her movements as she rounded the back of the couch – and turning himself to face her when she sat at the opposite end, close, yet still so far away.
She dropped her eyes to where her hands sat folded in her lap, trying to resist the urge to reach for him, to feel his skin warm against the soft curl of her fingers as they traced the edges of his face. They wore mirrored expressions, both shadowed by the wounds they had inflicted on one another, both searching for redemption, for forgiveness, but unconvinced that it could be salvaged and pulled from the wreckage between them. This time, she waited.
"I told you on the plane that night that I was scared I'd lost you." Auggie exhaled, struggling to keep his own composure in check. "It wasn't an excuse for what happened."
"I was angry with you." Annie admitted, feeling uncomfortable in her own skin, and just as lost as ever. "But I was angry with me, too, Auggie, and I still am. I carry the memories around. They remind me of all the mistakes; Lena, Simon, Jai, Teo, Helen, Henry…" She could see their faces as she said their names. "Do you know what that's like, to have ghosts inside your head? I thought going dark would protect all of you, but that's what Henry wanted: to prove that I couldn't save everyone; to prove that I couldn't even save myself. I'm starting to think he was right."
"No." Auggie shook his head in blatant disagreement. "No, I don't believe that."
"I wish I could explain everything." Annie dug her nails into the palm of her hand, leaving angry red marks in their wake, unable to look at Auggie directly. "I wish I could tell you that I knew what to do. That I understand what I did. That I understand what you did. What we did-" She choked, her face on fire, her pulse pounding in her head. "But I would be lying, Auggie. And I don't want to lie. Not to you. Not anymore."
"Annie, I'm sorry-"
"Auggie, stop! Please." Annie made her best attempt to keep her emotions in check, but failed miserably. Her eyes stung and her cheeks felt wet. She could taste salt on her lips, and her words felt sharper than she had imagined them being. "Don't say you're sorry when you and I both know that I don't want apologies, that I don't want your pity, not anymore than you want mine."
"Then what do you want, Annie?" Auggie's words were equally cutting, just as strained and bitter. He ran a hand over his face, struggling to keep his own composure, a battle he was quickly losing. "I've asked that question of myself more times that I care to remember, because I do know what it's like - to wish you could change everything. I do know." His out-of-character admission was jarring, causing Annie to cringe even as her heart contracted.
The urge to reach out to him was beginning to drive her mad, because she knew she shouldn't. She was torn between the resentment she selfishly harbored toward him because of everything that had happened, and her own guilt for starting the fire that had led to so much destruction. In the heavy, smothering silence, Auggie's expression was overcome with indescribable remorse, his hardened eyes softening with regret for having spoken so harshly. Annie found herself teetering on an edge, struggling to hold back the tears she had been fighting; and then, before she could stop them, the floodgates released words she had always been too scared to say, terrified of what they meant.
"I want you, Auggie." A confession of the heart. Pure, unrestrained emotion. "I want you."
Annie travelled back in her mind to all the times before now that she could have conceded what her heart had known all along, but her mind had refused to acknowledge. In Auggie's parking garage. The mission in Barcelona. When he had asked her about Simon: "Do you love him, Annie?"Russia, Amsterdam, Colombia, Copenhagen, Frankfurt. On the bus the night she had followed him. When she had stood at his door, risen from the dead. In Hong Kong, when he had sworn that he was with her, no matter how it ended.
Time stopped…
And then Auggie reached out – held out his hand to her in mute invitation. She hesitated only for a moment before she took it. He leaned forward, closing some of the distance between them, tracing the fingers of one hand up her arm until he found her face. He caressed her cheek, then, with his thumb, gently forcing her to bend her head down, and leaned even further forward until she could feel his breath, his lips pressing chastely against the top of her head..
"You have me." He murmured into her hair. "You will always have me."
"I know." Annie echoed into his chest, overwhelmed with relief, her conviction the clearest it had ever been.
And then Auggie was there, his lips on hers, his hands framing her face, fingers tangled in her hair, drawing her closer. Annie's resistance was hopelessly shattered into a million pieces, and she fell helplessly into the embrace, craving his touch with inconsolable, desperate hunger. Her arms wound around his neck, months and months of pent up emotion finally turning the once unbreakable wall that had guarded her heart for so long into unrecognizable rubble. She returned the kiss with feverish, frantic desire, climbing into his lap, all but forcing him backward.
He laughed at that, and pulled himself upright, hands on her shoulders, pushing her away from him a little to give them both a chance to come up for air.
"You know, you're only allowed to wear this shirt on one condition." He commented, adding it as an afterthought, his hands sliding down to the small of her back, causing her to shiver involuntarily.
"And what's that?" She asked distractedly.
"If you promise to keep bringing it back."
She laughed, a sound of alleviated, unadulterated bliss.
Then he kissed her again.
Calder tapped his foot impatiently against the floor, eyes wandering the cabin of the Learjet restlessly.
Barber had fallen asleep forty minutes into the nine hour flight, and was snoring fitfully in the farthest row of seats toward the tail of the jet. Oliver Lee had also dozed comfortably for the majority of the flight, his ankle-tracker blinking red and ominous in the dimmed cabin lighting. Calder glanced down at his watch, noting that they had approximately thirty minutes until they landed at the airbase in Rammstein, where the new Germany station chief, Marcus Vaughn, would meet them with a fully assembled and equip ops team. The plan was to safely extract Anderson and Walker before the MSS could make their move, and hopefully - with Oilver's supposed expertise, and a little luck - catch Mai Shin before she did anymore damage.
The pilot would start the jet's descent soon. Calder reached with his booted foot and gave Oliver a not-so-gentle tap on the shin. The Asian man balefully opened one eye, and seeing that Calder was staring back it him expectantly, sat up, yawned, cracked his neck and stared back unblinking and unimpressed.
"Barber!" Calder barked, and the tech op startled out of his sleep, blurry eyed and unable to immediately get his bearings. Barber shuffled over when Calder waved to him impatiently, taking a seat next to the "The Sherriff", rubbing his face, circles obvious under his eyes. Oliver sighed, seemingly disinterested in the situation entirely, but much like a spoiled child trying to escape the worst of his grounding, he went along with it.
"Here's how it's going to go down." Calder began. "Barber will set up communications with the operations team when we land so we can start setting up an area perimeter to locate Mai if she's within range. At that point Auggie, Annie and the rest of their Scooby gang should be en route to Rammstein, if they haven't already made it there."
Barber snorted at Calder's childhood cartoon reference, but quickly silenced himself when Calder's infamous glare began boring holes into his forehead. "Sorry, continue, Sir." Barber cleared his throat and diverted his gaze to anywhere but at Calder Michaels.
"This is where you come in, Mr. Lee." Calder turned his full attention on Oliver. "Once we land, and Annie Walker is safely back in our possession, you're going to make that phone call you said you could make, and we're going to invite Mai Shin to lunch. Are we clear?"
"I'm curious, Mr. Michaels." Oliver mimicked with a smirk. "What makes you think she'll fall for it?"
Calder, not to be outdone in the department condescending gestures, laughed at Oliver in turn. "What makes you think she won't?"
"You always underestimate your opponents." Oliver sat up, adjusting his tie and folding his hands together as he leaned his forearms against the flat of his thighs. "It nearly cost you in Hong Kong, I'd think it wise to… learn from one's mistakes. It would be a shame to see it happen a second time."
"Was that a threat, Lee?" Calder hissed, eyes flashing dangerously.
"I still have a bad feeling about this." Barber murmured sheepishly, trying to take no part in the staring contest between Calder and Oliver. "This chick already killed Auggie's friend. It's like Terminator 3: Rise of The Machines, minus the robots." Barber paused, and then skeptically turned toward Oliver with narrowed eyes. "Unless- wait, the MSS doesn't use robots, do they?"
Calder was preparing to shut Barber up with a growl, and reprimand the tech-op for sharing mission intel with a prisoner who technically had not been read in completely, but an all-too-noticeable change in Oliver's facial expression and posture caused Calder to hesitate. For a moment the ex-MSS agent seemed surprised and flustered, the gears inside his head woking to form some sort of conclusion to assuage his anxiety. Calder immediately felt a bad feeling of his own settle in the pit of his stomach, a sour taste in his mouth. Something about this seemed suddenly and inexplicably wrong.
"She killed someone?" Oliver asked flatly, a question that, when considering it was about a well-known and accomplished assassin, seemed redundant and rhetorical.
"You're surprised." Calder's bad feeling grew ten-fold. "Why?"
Oliver did not answer right away. His face became unreadable, lips drawn into thin, pensive line. Calder and Barber exchanged looks, and overhead the seatbelt lights for the Learjet came on with the tell-tale ding, announcing that they were that much closer to landing at their destination. Losing his patience, Calder leaned forward, drawing closer to where Oliver sat, eyes dark and threatening.
"What aren't you telling me, Lee?" Calder murmured menacingly, lips drawn back in something akin to a snarl. "You have five seconds to tell me, before I make you tell me." He cracked his knuckles, to make his point. "It would be wise for you to keep in mind that my boss doesn't care if you come home."
Oliver squirmed under the pressure, but his silence persevered. Calder was unperterbed by his refusal to talk, and so he settled into his seat, a wicked grin accompanying the shrug of his shoulders that showcased his apparent lack of concern.
"I hear the weather is nice in Gitmo this time of year." Calder leaned back leisurely, devilish smile firmly in place. "All it would take is one phone call when we land, and I'll have this plane headed to Cuba before you can spell terrorist."
"You're bluffing." Oliver was trying to reassure himself, but his resolve was wearing, the proof visible in the now panicked look that threatened to make his eyes bulge out of their sockets, the tone of his voice muted outrage. "You don't have that kind of authority."
"You're right." Calder acceded. "I don't have that kind of authority. But Joan Campbell does. And when you fuck with her people, you fuck with me. So, I'll ask one more time, nicely," he lowered his voice, classic, raspy, intimidating growl at its very finest, "What aren't you telling me?"
Oliver Lee was a spy, but he was also a traitor; a scorpion. Lying was ingrained into his nature just as easily and involuntarily as breathing. Calder knew all it would take was the right motivation, the right incentive, to turn him against the people he was so readily willing to remain silent for. The natural behavior of some creatures was inevitable, no matter how they were treated, and no matter what the consequences.
And so Oliver broke.
"No one was supposed to die." Oliver muttered bitterly, knowing he had lost. "That was never part of the plan."
"What plan?" Calder snarled, suddenly overwhelmed by an undeniable sense of foreboding.
"I suppose it doesn't matter now, does it?" Oliver choked out a laugh, the sound causing Barber to stare at the man uncomfortably. Oliver shook his head, existing in a state of semi-controlled anguish, knowing he had been affectively outplayed by his opponent. "Escape plans only work if no one finds out about them."
"Mai Shin was going to help you escape?" Calder asked incredulously, Joan's words about things not seeming as they were making more sense with every passing second.
"Mai Shin is doesn't exist." Oliver blurted. "It was just supposed to be a cover, a distraction, she wasn't supposed to kill anyone, I swear!"
"Then who the hell is she?" Barber's question echoed the exact thoughts currently racing through Calder Michael's head.
"A double agent for the MSS." Oliver's defeated expression morphed into something bordering on treacherous triumph, "A traitor amongst your midst, and you never even noticed."
Calder's blood turned to ice. "Who?"
Oliver's insidious smile flourished. "You know her as Sarah Tam."
A/N: DUN DUN DUNNNNNNN! Didja see that twist coming?
And finally, Annie and Auggie start using their WORDS! Who woulda thunk it possible?! Hint, hint, Covert Writers. ;)
Also, this Walkerson heart to heart would not have been possible without Ashtordiffe's guidance. A lot of what you see in that AMAZING scene is per her suggestions and edits, and for her help I am so lucky! She made it MAGIC! You rock, Ash! I hope y'all loved it as much as I do. xxx
PS: Today's musical inspiration: "23" by Jimmy Eat World. Go listen to it, nowwwww!