Diavolo

thirty six - for Quinn

Many years ago...

"Target's name is Sebastian Garcia. Wanted for human trafficking and smuggling drugs. He is known for his part in the Latin Kings drug cartel." 

I flipped the case file open, as always a picture was paper clipped to the top corner of the page. A man in his late 30s, raven hair with visible scars running up his neck. "So you want us undercover?" I uttered flicking through the file. 

"Yes, the Director wants both of you to go undercover and collect evidence. This is highly classified, the Colombian authorities were not informed of this and they can't know." Said the Chief.

"Yes, Chief." We both replied in unison and with that he left the briefing room.

I hear Quinn sigh next to me, "We won't have back up if something goes south." She states pacing the room from left to right. "I don't have a good feeling about this."

"It's a mission, Quinn. When was the last time we had a good feeling about a mission." 

She stops in her steps and gazes at me with a questionable expression, "True." She admits with a shrug. 

Quinn has been my partner for a whole year now, at first she was assigned to train me but since we completed every mission together. We've become good partners and a really good friend to me. 

"Better get packing then, our flight is at twenty-one hundred tonight."

A grin crept on her face, "Roger that partner." 

***

From New York to Colombia it was approximately a 5-hour flight, Quinn and I were undercover as close relatives and we had to bargain a deal with the cartel for business. Our goal was to make contact and get some solid evidence on the drugs and weapons.

"I don't like this." I hear Quinn mutter behind me as we shuffled through the crowded airport.

I had to admit - I wasn't a huge fan either, the atmosphere just seemed off. The hairs on my arms spiked up, along with the goosebumps. "Me neither. Let's just keep moving." We continued to move out of the crowd and headed towards the exit. CIA had left us a car parked outside the airport, we just had to find it.

As soon as we stepped out of the airport a black bag was thrown over my head, immediately I knocked my head back making contact with the person behind me. Whilst attempting to take the bag off my head, a hard object was smashed into the back of my skull and that was when everything went dark.

***

My arms and joints ached from the still position I had been in for the past 2 hours. Hung from my wrists by chains attached to the ceiling. 

"I told you already, we're tourists visiting." They were 'interrogating' Quinn, her body was covered in blood. Her black hair matted to her face with sweat as she looked at me with her eyes full of unshed tears. I was struggling to stay conscious, the pool of red crimson liquid pooled beneath me. 

"Don't bullshit us, you're special agents." He snarls bringing the handle of his knife down onto Quinn's wrist. A deafening scream escaped her mouth, the kind that bypasses the ears to speak right to the heart. I swung on the chains, sucking in a sharp breath through my gritted teeth. The pain was almost unbearable but I swung until my foot touched the table with all the knives, I swung again this time kicking the table over. His head snapped towards me instantly. 

"Oops," I mumbled seeing him move towards me from the corner of my eye.

"Your turn." He whispered undoing the chains from the ceiling. 

The torture wasn't too bad. Both Quinn and I had worse but after a few weeks, we started to question if the CIA were coming for us or not. We still had no idea how they found us first or how they know that we were special agents. Neither Quinn nor I spoke, we kept our cover and kept our lips sealed.

After a few months, we almost couldn't recognise each other. Both deeply malnourished with sunken cheekbones and dark circles under our eyes. They would take care of our injuries, only so they could torture us again once they were healed. 

I had accepted the fact that the CIA weren't coming for us but Quinn didn't. She kept telling me day after day 'they're coming, just hang on a little longer, they'll find us." 

But all it took was one day, one day for everything to change.

In a cell with nothing but a bucket in the corner, I rested the side of my face on the stone wall, letting the coldness cool my skin. Quinn had just come back from the torture session, her screams would echo through the cracks of the walls. She was at the other side of the room covered in bandages and red stitching.

"I would ask if you're okay. But I know you're not." I heard her shuffle upwards to rest her back against the wall.

"You're going to be fine L." She croaked with a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"No, we're not. Look at you, Quinn!" I whisper yelled gesturing at her bandages. "We can plan an escape, I've been keeping track of where the nearest exits are."

She shook her head slowly, intelligibly still nauseous from the medication they were giving us. "Those people are armed 24/7 Leti and even if we could find an exit we're not fit enough to run from them never mind fight them."

"I'm not letting us die here." I countered shuffling towards her.

"You're not dying here LeToya." She whispered resting her head on my shoulder.

"Why do you keep saying that?" I inquired. "You're saying it as though you're.." As if the penny had dropped, my head snapped up to her pained face, a small tear fell from her left eye. "No.." I dragged shaking my head, "Quinn what did you do?"

Her shaky hands grasped mine, with a weak squeeze. "Promise me you'll hang on and have some hope. Don't give up. They can't kill you because you're not going to let them." 

My throat tightened and my lips began to tremble. "No Quinn," I whispered. "You can't. I won't let you."

"I don't have a choice." She mumbled, her cold hand wiped the tears off my cheeks. "They have to kill one of us to send a message to the Agency."

"Tell them to take me," I begged. "Please Quinn. Let me do this for you." Again she shook her head, her tired eyes fluttering shut, the medicine must've kicked in. 

"The mole is Thomas Griggs." She breathed.

My eyes widened, "Deputy Director?" 

"I heard him speaking to them. It's him. He told them we were coming in exchange for money." She confirmed.

 I sucked in a shaky breath, "I still can't let them kill you." Quinn stayed silent, she bought my head down, rested it on her lap and held me as I silently sobbed.

"Don't give up L. Whatever happens, you keep fighting until you're free."

Sleep never came that night, I sat and watched how peaceful Quinn looked asleep. The most painful thing was having to watch her get ripped away from me the next morning, I kicked and punched. I begged them to take me instead but she had already made a deal with them. 

The pain in her eyes when they took her from me was imprinted in my mind. I could take physical pain, I could take the pain of my bones breaking multiple times but the mental pain I experienced was excruciating, that pain in my chest never went away.

A picture was slipped under the door of my cell that night. My heart shattered all over again, it was Quinn lying limp in a wooden box. Her throat was slit open. More tears escaped my eyes followed by my fist hitting the door.

I almost missed the note that was lying on top of her body.

'Nosotras estamos manteniendo el topo.'

'We're keeping the mole.'

Not only did they kill my best friend and partner, but they also framed me in the process.