Open Case File [COMPLETED]

Saying No (Part 12)

Donovan hated her in that moment, hated the stubbornness that he once loved because now that stubbornness was working against him. He understood her need but didn't care. He was the one who'd had to live through her frozen and beaten down state. He was the one who worked tirelessly to bring her back to herself. And now, she carelessly planned to walk into danger again without any regard for the hell he'd gone through.

She set her jaw and Donovan knew her well enough to know he would lose this battle.

"Fine," he said. "You'll be on the case."

Carter nodded stiffly, even as her shoulders eased a fraction. When they stepped back into the ops room, everyone swiveled to them, their conversations dying off. Donovan knew half of the talk had to be about them.

"You have the matter settled?" Ramirez asked.

Carter reclaimed her seat.

"Yes."

Donovan remained in the doorway. "My emotions are too strong that they will impair my judgment. I'm asking to be removed from this operation."

Carter snapped her head to him, shocked at his announcement. If he couldn't keep her from this op then he wouldn't be a part of it. Part of him hoped that without him there she would back out as well. They were a team to the end.

But Carter faced Ramirez who glanced between Carter's determined mouth to Donovan's crossed arms.

"Very well, you are excused," he said. "Everyone else gear up, we leave in fifteen."

Donovan left before Carter could even get out of her chair. He wouldn't tell her to be safe, she was going into enemy territory where every man carried a gun and itched to use it. Safety was an illusion. She knew this and still because of her pride she would walk into the lions' den.

Donovan descended the stairs to the locker room and training area. After changing, he grabbed a pair of boxing gloves and headed towards a dummy mannequin. Only two other people were there, office hours gone and the building mostly empty. Donovan rolled his shoulders and slammed his fist into the dummy's head. He pummeled the mannequin, trying to release his anger.

But as time ticked on all he could think about was the van pulling away, Carter sitting in the back. The team reaching the building, Carter dressed as a junkie getting out and walking towards the gang's den. Each image appeared vivid in his mind. So vivid he could almost see the glint of light on the gun as it was pointed at Carter's head.

Growling, Donovan ripped off the gloves and raced out of the training area. He stormed up the stairwell, his footsteps ricochetting around him. He burst into the office and sprinted down the hallway, crashing into the tech room. Mason jumped in his chair.

"Dude!" he said, wiping his shirt where he'd spilled coffee on himself.

Donovan didn't say anything, he went to the bank of computers, searching for the one that held Carter's viewpoint.

"Where is Carter's camera?" Donovan asked.

"It's being run to the computers in the van," Mason said.

"Pull them up."

"I'm not your monkey you can ask to dance."

Donovan turned on Mason with slow deliberation, his anger simmering beneath the surface. Something in Donovan's face showed this and for once Mason didn't comment, he did as he was told.

"There you go."

Donovan watched the proceedings, every muscle tense. For his part, Mason said nothing, clearly not as stupid as he looked. Minutes stretched into years as events unfolded. Through the search of her, Donovan stopped breathing, but the camera, disguised as a spike in her ear, went unnoticed.