fic for becky
Jun. 20th, 2006 04:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
anxietygrrlThis is the moment before it all goes to hell.
This is the precipice, and the weight of the gun in your hand is what's keeping you balanced on the edge. Your finger on the trigger is the fulcrum.
She says your name. You can't hear her, but you know the shape of your name on her lips. There's fear in her eyes; fear of you and what you'll do. That hurts, but it can't be helped, now. He stands beside her, his hand clasping her elbow. He's tired, the tiredest man you've ever seen. There's no fear in his eyes, no betrayal or rage, and where her terror didn't shift the ground under your feet, his dispassion nearly does. He is watching you, and waiting.
He shouts, so he can be heard over the klaxons, and you don't catch it all but it could be, "Can't keep this ball in the air forever, doc." Your index finger twitches, just a little bit.
One
The black Mercedes pulled over to the curb, popping jacaranda blossoms under its tires. The driver killed the engine, switched off the lights, and waited, just outside the circle of the farthest streetlamp on the farthest side of the lot. Jack waited for five minutes, pretending to check his cell phone messages. No one appeared. Another five, absently jangling his keys, flipping his hospital ID between his fingers. Then he walked calmly to the sedan, opened the door, and slid into the driver's seat.
The man in the car, now seated on the passenger's side, greeted him with a subdued, "Hey."
"I'm getting married."
"Congratulations."
"I'm saying I'm out. I'm not doing this anymore."
"Jack, I know things went badly in Georgia--"
He laughed. "'Things went badly'. Jesus."
"I'm not minimizing it. We lost two NCOs, good people, valuable people. But there's still work to be done."
"Not by me."
The other man opened the glovebox and took out a thick blue folder. He set it on the armrest between them. "There's a UNESCO mission in Gansu province, surveying Silk Road sites. Buddhist monuments, library caves, amazing stuff. We think there's a mole on their team."
Somehow, the folder had opened itself on Jack's lap. A stone bodhisattva stared up at him, implacable and serene.
"You'll go as a doctor. WHO is sending a small group to Dunhuang to monitor China's vaccination program. It's perfect."
He flipped through the folder, planning out his approach as he would before a surgery. "I have patients here who need me. Sarah needs me."
"Your country needs you."
He laughed at that. "Bullshit, Mike."
"I know. But, not really. There's something out there in the Gobi that SD-6 wants, Jack. We can't afford to let them get it."
This is the precipice, and the weight of the gun in your hand is what's keeping you balanced on the edge. Your finger on the trigger is the fulcrum.
She says your name. You can't hear her, but you know the shape of your name on her lips. There's fear in her eyes; fear of you and what you'll do. That hurts, but it can't be helped, now. He stands beside her, his hand clasping her elbow. He's tired, the tiredest man you've ever seen. There's no fear in his eyes, no betrayal or rage, and where her terror didn't shift the ground under your feet, his dispassion nearly does. He is watching you, and waiting.
He shouts, so he can be heard over the klaxons, and you don't catch it all but it could be, "Can't keep this ball in the air forever, doc." Your index finger twitches, just a little bit.
One
The black Mercedes pulled over to the curb, popping jacaranda blossoms under its tires. The driver killed the engine, switched off the lights, and waited, just outside the circle of the farthest streetlamp on the farthest side of the lot. Jack waited for five minutes, pretending to check his cell phone messages. No one appeared. Another five, absently jangling his keys, flipping his hospital ID between his fingers. Then he walked calmly to the sedan, opened the door, and slid into the driver's seat.
The man in the car, now seated on the passenger's side, greeted him with a subdued, "Hey."
"I'm getting married."
"Congratulations."
"I'm saying I'm out. I'm not doing this anymore."
"Jack, I know things went badly in Georgia--"
He laughed. "'Things went badly'. Jesus."
"I'm not minimizing it. We lost two NCOs, good people, valuable people. But there's still work to be done."
"Not by me."
The other man opened the glovebox and took out a thick blue folder. He set it on the armrest between them. "There's a UNESCO mission in Gansu province, surveying Silk Road sites. Buddhist monuments, library caves, amazing stuff. We think there's a mole on their team."
Somehow, the folder had opened itself on Jack's lap. A stone bodhisattva stared up at him, implacable and serene.
"You'll go as a doctor. WHO is sending a small group to Dunhuang to monitor China's vaccination program. It's perfect."
He flipped through the folder, planning out his approach as he would before a surgery. "I have patients here who need me. Sarah needs me."
"Your country needs you."
He laughed at that. "Bullshit, Mike."
"I know. But, not really. There's something out there in the Gobi that SD-6 wants, Jack. We can't afford to let them get it."
