Access Denied: The Bullseye

10. Faulty Dangers

"So where are we going again?" Genevieve asked. "And why am I being made to come with you?"

"Because I have to go," Kiara Deaton replied in her unwavering, monotonous voice. "So you have to go too."

She was sitting in the back seat while Jackson sat in the passenger seat. No one had told Genevieve about where they were going. All she was told was they had a lead on the Redstone case and that Agents Deaton and Wilfred were needed to be there as immediate back up. The Wilfred name was now addressed with a title. Jackson Wilfred was now an agent. It didn't shock Genevieve, it just was the gold trim that wasn't ever expected.

Genevieve supposed this was why Flynn and Kiara were sitting ready in the Director's office in the middle of the night. When Flynn was alerted about this new lead, he didn't explicitly tell the room what his informant had told him that would be so beneficial in the case of Vincent Redstone. She supposed it was something she wasn't supposed to know—yet another reminder that she wasn't a part of this team that again and again she was reminded she was a vital part of.

She hadn't seen Nicole or Carlos yet, but she supposed she would see them there.

"Did you meet Quinsley?" Jackson asked Kiara as soon as she drove onto the main road.

"Yes," Kiara told him. "I hear funds are going to be cut soon. This mission may not be Davidson's big career milestone."

"A career milestone at what could be the end of his career would be the last thing he'd want."

It was obvious they didn't mind that Genevieve was listening in, but that probably meant they weren't saying anything too important. At least, now she knew that the new Blind Spot Head was a 'she' called Quinsley, who wasn't too keen about gangs and the world of organized crime. Carlos had told her most of that. But he didn't say that meant they would have less funds on this case now. A lower priority meant less money, less resources and less time.

That was something people never seemed to understand—money bought justice. The divine concept of good and evil and good triumphing didn't matter. Investigations cost money and resources. These things took time, which again translated into money. And justice brought tranquility and a sense of peace to everyone and everything involved. So, in a sense money did buy happiness.

"You probably had a different meeting though," Jackson asked her. "She say anything different there?"

"No." Kiara Deaton's voice had this tone to it that made you think that she was about to say more. But then she didn't. And you just looked at her waiting for her to do something to make your interaction seem less incomplete. Jackson was looking at her in that very way.

So, there was a new boss who was most likely going to stop this mission of catching the people who had put a target on her back and no one told her anything more than what she had to do and when she had to do it. That, and Kiara Deaton (her supposed protector) was driving her to a place where Redstone's people would most likely be.

"Je ne suis probablement pas payé pour ça," Genevieve muttered. She supposed maybe Deaton knew what she was saying—agents knew a lot of languages, didn't they? But Jackson turned to give her a stern look. She was expecting a hit to the forehead, but he looked reluctant. Like he was still worried about how she might react. It was a sort of emotional blackmail, but it made her feel a bit more powerful in their brother-sister dynamic.

When the car finally stopped near an empty dust-filled housing complex, whose buildings seemed to be on the verge of dropping on anyone who dared to breathe on the wrong cinder block. "You can set up here," Deaton told Jackson. "Do you need any help?" Shaking his head no, Jackson started setting up an antenna on the car roof and pulled out a laptop Genevieve had only seen pro-hackers with. "You, Wilfred are coming with me," she said, looking at her. And when she didn't follow her, Kiara waited for her and said more firmly: "Genevieve. With me."