Special Agent | ✓

Forty-Five

The caller hung up.

It seemed like hours went by, when in reality it was only minutes. Quinn kept wary eyes on the man at the opposite end of the courtyard, the slightest movement enough to send her heart kicking up a panicked rhythm.

Not that it already wasn't beating a million times a minute. Closing the doors had ensured that whoever attempted entering would be the immediate target of everyone in the courtyard — if Gavin had no other way in, it meant that whatever efforts he made to help Quinn would be futile.

Don't go down that path, Quinn. Stay focused.

She had little other to do than cling to that thought, until the doors into the building at the other end of the courtyard swung open. A sobbing woman staggered outside, hair matted and limp, blood coating her face, her body.

Willa.

Her eyes flickered wildly around the clearing, before they settled on Quinn.

"Please —" Willa started, " — please, help me. Tell them it's not ... it's not me." She'd coughed, violently, body wracked with it. It seemed to pain her immensely, as a pained groan escaped immediately after.

Quinn felt her heart shatter, but kept a mask in place. Her heart stuttered as, moments later, a man stepped out of the building wearing a fine three-piece suit.

"Quinn O'Reilly," The man said, almost conversationally, "A pleasure to meet you."

Afraid I can't say the same.

But Quinn kept her mouth shut, focused on the man which had exited the building swiftly after who seemed to be their suit-clad leader. The man wore all-black, and carried a handgun aimed pointedly at Willa. Half a dozen other guys, also clad in all-black, exited after that. They fanned around the courtyard in a semi-circle formation, forming a protective shell around the man in the suit.

Despite the fine, grey suit he wore, he looked dishevelled. His hair was unkempt, a dirty tousle of grey-peppered brown which stuck up in random directions. His face was ill-proportioned, nose crooked — obviously broken at some point. His lips were dry, cracked. Upon closer inspection, Quinn noted that the suit hung off a bony frame, fitting badly.

"Always a pleasure to meet a bounty amounting to a few million," He smiled, widely, showing a row of notably ill-kept teeth.

Going to a dentist to fix that mess would clear a few million at once, easily.

"What do you want?" Quinn called out, sticking to protocol.

The man tutted, shaking his head lightly.

"Rushing to the end is never fun, is it, Quinn O'Reilly? Besides, I have a special guest just dying to meet you."

Quinn's heart positively stopped, thoughts whirring wildly. She thought of Adina's cool, calm logic, of Locke's relaxed, easy pre-mission mind. It helped, to keep her focused. Finally, her mind procured the image of Kat, curled up on the bed back in the hotel room, crying over a life she might never return to. Quinn's resolve hardened, once more, felt her logic kick into place.

"I'm not here for that," Quinn called, "I'm here for Kat."

"You won't even ask me my name? Get acquainted?" The man's face changed, features twisting as a strange smile crossed his expression.

"I don't bloody care about that," Quinn spoke up, felt that anger flare again, "I'm here for my friend."

Willa looked up, confusion swirling in her eyes despite the pain wracking her entire body. Quinn forced herself to avoid Willa's probing stare, unwilling to be dragged down any unnecessary emotional roads.