4.6.2

A thousand thoughts of Haqqani are in her head when her phone rings, startles her. She answers a bit sharply then realizes it's Aayan, calling to check in on her and she has to switch tones quickly, play her part.

Carrie sees Redmond pick up the headset, knows everyone is listening in now.

It starts out easy, a little reassurance that she's okay, a lie about having to leave the country within twenty four hours. But Carrie finds that she's nervous, more than she should be. Isn't exactly comfortable with their conversation in everyone's earpiece. And that's before the boy starts confessing his feelings.

Aayan tells her he had a long time to think on his bus ride, that all he thought about was her.

Just by his tone she can tell where this is going, that she's played him perfectly. And even at the safe house she would have felt awkward at this. These moments of innocence, tenderness between them. But the thing is they are only innocent in one direction, only one side of the interaction is real. And as much as she fucking hates it when everyone else refers to him as a boy, she does it herself, knows it's the truth. She's playing a kid, deliberately seizing his affection and using it against him.

She tells herself it's what has to be done, that it's saving lives.

And then he tells her that he loves her, makes her stomach drop away with uneasiness. Even though she's facing the other direction Carrie can feel the awkwardness in the control room, has the briefest realization of how fucked up the whole operation is. But she has to play her part, push Aayan towards their target.

So she tries to ignore her discomfort, reminds herself that this is getting them towards their end goal. No matter what anyone else thinks, she's getting the fucking job done.

"I love you too," she replies, feeling the weight of everyone's eyes on her.

Aayan hangs up, satisfied with her lie. Leaves her in the control room, agitated, uncomfortable. No one says anything, makes mention of what just happened. But Carrie can feel the tenseness in the air, knows exactly what it's made of.

#

Carrie's sitting at the back of the room, trying to avoid judging eyes. To be fair, it could all just be in her head because no one has dared to look her in the eye since the phone call. But she's fairly sure she knows what they're all thinking - the same shit Quinn's been throwing in her face this whole time.

At least he's got the balls to call her on it, doesn't just look away every time she walks by. As much as he pisses her off, Carrie respects that about him, that he's not afraid of a confrontation.

She's pretty fucking glad he wasn't in the room for the phone call though, knows it would have been even more excruciating if he'd been there listening in. It was bad enough everyone else heard - she's sure Quinn will hear by the night's end, wonders if it'll just keep driving them apart.

Over and over she plays the conversation in her head, tries to convince herself that everything is justified, that she's just doing her job. But all she hears is Quinn's voice, asking her if there's no fucking line.

And the thing is she's really not sure, has always just done whatever needed to be done in order to get results. It's what made her the best at the job - her unrelenting drive, her willingness to do more than anyone else.

But now Carrie has to admit that Quinn's put doubts in her mind, that she's no longer sure where the line is. And it's getting to be too much, costing her too many brain cycles. So when Redmond comes back in telling her that Fara's brought in all the stuff left at the safe house, Carrie can't contain it anymore, has to ask.

"So what do you think?" she asks.

Redmond plays dumb, asks her about what exactly.

"You heard me talking to him, everyone did," she mutters. "What do you think?"

Redmond walks towards her, sits down. "I think you don't care what anyone thinks," he replies.

In many ways she wishes that was the case, cultivates that persona. But like almost everything else about her, it's a lie. Because she does care, wouldn't be so pissed off at Quinn if she didn't. It's just not something she's usually willing to admit, is surprised to find herself asking Redmond about it.

But at least he's a neutral source, doesn't have Quinn's special interest in the situation. And after being so at odds with him before, Carrie's found Redmond to be an alright guy, a capable officer.

"Say I do," she says, preparing herself for whatever might come.

Redmond considers for a moment.

"When you came back from DC we all thought Haqqani was dead," he starts. "We were ready to let him rest in peace while he prepared to do god knows what. Now we're about to get him for real. You made that happen. I guess that's what I think... mostly anyway."

It should make her feel better - well maybe minus his final comment. It's what Carrie's been trying to tell herself all along, that the end justifies the means. But somehow the argument doesn't seem very convincing at the moment, isn't enough to resolve the queasiness at the pit of her stomach.

Redmond gets up, leaves her alone with her thoughts again. Carrie thinks about Aayan, out there on this mission, played for a fool. He is a sweet kid, intelligent and affectionate. So easily preyed on, taken advantage of.

Carrie tries not to think about how the day is going to end, if the mission goes off as planned. The chance that Aayan makes it out of the situation alive is miniscule, almost zero. But Haqqani should also be dead, along with whatever plot he is hatching.

And her thoughts keep turning back to crossing the line. What everyone's thinking. What Fara and Quinn have been fucking harping on her about.

Because maybe she does care. But really, Carrie's not sure if she remembers how.

#

Carrie's watching the third red SUV pull up in the control room, wondering what the hell all of Haqqani's men are looking at in the sky. She already has the feeling that something isn't exactly as it should be, that there's a piece she's missing.

But that thought is quickly pushed out of her mind when Aayan approaches the man that emerges from the SUV, begins to talk to him closely.

Of course Quinn bursts into the control room at exactly that moment, right when they're in the thick of it. Tells her something about Saul not making his flight, distracting her from her primary focus.

Carrie puts the information aside, doesn't want to be distracted from the situation at hand. In the back of her mind she wonders quickly how Saul's disappearance could have anything to do with the operation but is distracted as she looks back at the screen just as they get a positive ID on Haqqani.

All of a sudden the air is tense, orders are fired around.

The drone operator confirms he's locked on target, that the weapon is armed. And then they're all just waiting on her, waiting for the call.

Carrie looks at the screen, feels her heartbeat quicken. She doesn't give the order to fire right away, wants to see how the situation will play out. Thinks there's still the smallest chance Aayan can make it out of their target zone if she waits long enough. That she won't have to drop a missile on her asset, this boy she's convinced to love her.

Suddenly there's action on the screen, movement from the car. Quinn picks up on it first, asks what the fuck just as she's registering what they're seeing.

It's Saul. Being displayed for the drone.

And of course that's the piece she's been missing. They had been looking at the drone, they knew Aayan was followed.

How, that she didn't know yet. But that was besides the point at the moment.

They watch as Aayan and Haqqani talk, then see the boy look up at the sky. And it's not hard to guess what Aayan's just been told, that he's been played by the CIA.

Aayan looks stunned, ever the naive boy. And suddenly Carrie feels a wave of regret, a realization of her role in placing him in the middle of everything. It had only been two days, was just another play. But she had unexpectedly come to like him, had felt oddly comfortable sharing her secrets with him. He was just a kid, caught in a situation not of his making, trying to make good in a tough world.

Haqqani walks up to the boy, kisses him on the forehead. Then pulls out a gun, shoots him in the head.

Carrie gasps, doesn't want to believe her eyes. Feels a surge of nausea pulse up her body, feels shock take over her mind. Hears Quinn voice her thoughts behind her, but as if through a haze.

All she can think is he's dead. And it doesn't matter that she had come into this prepared to kill him herself. To watch Haqqani do it, shoot his own nephew pointblank in the head. Just a boy. She admits it now.

Anger, hate, guilt all shoot through her as the immediate shock starts to wear off, as Haqqani casually returns to his vehicle.

Carrie's mind is mostly a big fuck you, a neural explosion of losses. And all she can think is Haqqani has to fucking die, that this is her one no fail chance. He thinks she doesn't have the balls to do it, to make the hard decision. But he doesn't fucking know her at all.

Nothing else matters at the moment, Saul's presence a problem but not an insurmountable one. She knows this is what he would do, tells herself he would make the same call if their positions were reversed. He was always willing to sacrifice anything for the mission. Her, himself. They were the same in that way.

She knows he's waiting for it, that he has to be thinking about it. Convinces herself he would be disappointed if she didn't give the order.

Seconds are slipping away, her window closing.

There is no time to be sentimental, she thinks to herself. Sacrifices have to be made.

And so she makes the call.

"Take the shot," she says, with only the slightest hesitation.

#

"Take the shot," Carrie repeats, more forcefully this time.

And thankfully, it's just enough to knock Quinn out of momentary shock, make him realize what is at stake.

"Carrie!" he exclaims, still unable to believe what he's hearing.

"We're losing our window," she replies brusquely, as if that's all that needs to be discussed.

"It's Saul," Quinn interjects, somehow sure that she can't mean what she's about to do. Wants to give her time to reconsider, realize that she can never go back on this moment.

Regardless of how pissed he is at her, Quinn realizes this is the time to put that shit aside. He saw something snap in her when the boy got shot, knows what his own reaction was and he wasn't sleeping with the kid. Even if it was just work, he can tell it stung her hard.

It's pushing her to do this, to complete the mission at any cost. And suddenly Quinn is sure of only one thing. He can't let her do this, will lose her for good if he lets this happen.

And it doesn't matter that it's tactically the right call, that they should take any chance to take out Haqqani - especially considering he seems to be one step in front of them at all times. Carrie thinks she can rationalize it now, will tell herself that Saul would make the same call. Which could very well be true. But he doesn't give a fuck about what Saul would do, doesn't really give much of a fuck about Saul at all. Quinn just knows if he lets her sacrifice him, she will never forgive herself, will lose a part of herself forever.

Of course he's the only one that sees this, the only one that understands the stakes. It's why he's back in Islamabad - because she needed him. No matter that she thinks she needs something different. Quinn knows why he came back.

He was scared for her. Even through all that booze and guilt and anger. He was still constantly concerned about Carrie, wondering if she would survive. And apparently for good reason.

So even if this isn't his call, if he has no right, Quinn's making it anyway. He knows no one else can, that she holds the highest authority in the room. Only he can override her, their history giving him that at least.

"Reaper one, weapons away," she demands, seemingly completely sure of her decision.

"That is the ex-director of the CIA, do not shoot," Quinn interjects, hoping he can stall the drone operator long enough to talk some sense into Carrie, resolve the situation.

The operator doesn't fire, seems unsure of what to do. And for a moment Quinn's sure that no one in the control room is breathing as they wait to see what happens, how it plays out.

Carrie is quiet for that second but he can feel her teetering, waits for whatever is to come.

"Goddamn it, what did I say?!" she hollers at the unfortunate drone tech.

"Ms. Mathison," the operator responds dumbly, clearly unsure of whose orders to follow. Thankfully does not seem particularly willing to be the guy who blows up the former director of the CIA.

And then Carrie tips off the brink, starts to charge towards the controls herself.

"Take the shot goddamn it!" she yells. "Wipe that fucker out!"

Quinn reacts quickly, steps out and grabs her by the arms before she can get by him. Turns her to face him as he holds her dangerously close, feels the heat radiating out of her.

"Are you out of your mind?!" he yells, right up close in her face.

Carrie stares at him as if she's in shock - red with anger but ashen too. Her eyes are manic, wide, disbelieving. And Quinn knows there's little point trying to talk sense into her right then, that he's trying to appeal to a part of her that may not exist anymore. But he's all she's got and he will not let her do this. He will not let her kill someone she loves. No matter what it takes. He is not going to lose her to this.

"That is Saul down there!" Quinn says intently, shaking her within his grasp, hoping something is getting through.

"Saul," he repeats.

Looks at her uncomprehending eyes, mentally reminding her of everything this should mean to her. Carrie still looks completely in stunned, stares at him for a long second. Doesn't react, doesn't say anything.

And it's been a long time since he's felt any compassion for her - before Kabul, ages before all this bullshit. But right now he remembers, looks at her and sees the Carrie he came back for, the one he grew to care about more than he thought possible.

What Carrie sees, on the other hand, is a big a mystery to him as to anyone else. She looks at him wildly, makes him wonder if it's over, if she's going to lose it again.

But she doesn't say anything, just ends up angrily breaking out of his hold, silently walking out of the control room. Leaving him to make the call to stand down, to watch as the SUVs drive under tree cover, switch formation, then take three different roads.

The drone operator asks him what to do but Quinn's mind is still caught in the previous moment, at what just almost happened. He wonders what would have happened if he hadn't come looking for Carrie, is fucking relieved that he was there.

The drone guy asks again. And Quinn knows he should just choose one arbitrarily, that a one in three chance is still decent odds. But his head is a lot of places at the moment and he can't even see the point. If Saul is with Haqqani at all times, it doesn't much matter if they follow with the drone. A rescue attempt would be almost impossible with Haqqani inevitably prepared against it. And a drone overhead could give Carrie another chance, if he doesn't figure out how to inject some sense into her.

So in the end he says nothing at all, lets them all go. Because as much as he wants to get Haqqani, there is one sacrifice he's not willing to make.