Access Denied: The Bullseye

2. Meskin's Footfall

"King's pawn to E4," Lenny Marek said, partly amused. "Most popular opening ever."

Chess was not a strong front for Genevieve, but Marek insisted that he needed someone to practise with. In the past few months, Genevieve had gotten to know Naima Marek's husband, Lenny. He was a professional fighter, but taking a break for a while. "Scene's a bit off right now", Marek had told her. Marek was good at chess, because you play one sport, you play all of them.

Marek took out his knight and Genevieve pushed her queen in front of her king. Naima was in her pawn shop, probably shutting down after the long day. Marek moved another piece on the board and Genevieve already felt exhausted. This was their third game in a row. They had been playing for almost everyday she had been here, but she never won. She knew she had no prospects of winning.

The man in front of her was accommodating. He never complained or protested her stay in their house. Technically, she was staying in the back-office of their pawn shop, but it was almost the same. But Genevieve knew that her friend, Naima's husband, wanted her out.

Needless to say, she was planning on leaving very soon. The only thing that kept her here right now was medication.

In her mind Genevieve had formulated a strategy when she was left to her own means. She had bought gloves and she had reached Naima Marek's residence in Maine. The next task she had to complete was to control her urges. She didn't want to be a kleptomaniac.

Initially, she thought that it would be hard. But apparently all it took—according to Zuri Obano, the psychotherapist who lived across the street—was some days of psychotherapy, medication and will. Lately, Genevieve had an abundance of will.

First, she'd thought to get a job and Naima said that she needed help around the shop. Genevieve agreed. She'd be getting a minimum wage and she'd have practice with controlling her kleptomaniacal urges.

Getting naltrexone had been easy. Apparently, in Maine you didn't need a prescription to buy the drug. She had gotten that quick and easy. She had met Zuri Obano one day while working in the pawn shop. He had a therapy consultation across the street. She didn't even remember why she had gone to see him in the first place.

But she'd be lying to herself is Obano and naltrexone was the only reason for keeping her here. There was another reason: Carlos De' Gracias. Genevieve knew she should have kept away from anything and anyone from Blind Spot Agency, but it couldn't be helped. Five months ago, Carlos had given her his number, telling her to contact him. For the first two months, she had not paid much mind to it. She had thought that she could forget Blind Spot and everything it held.

But Blind Spot couldn't just be forgotten.

She and Carlos finally met in the cold hours of one January night. They hadn't talked about anything serious. There hadn't been any exchange of top secret intel. There had been no deep undercover findings. As of now, everything was stale.

"You're gonna lose in the next two moves," Marek told her, playing his move and then playing her move as well. He always played both their moves towards the end of the game.

"Why do you always play my last few moves?" she asked him, leaning back in her chair. "In fact, why play me anyways? You always win."

"Because you don't like losing to me. It's much more fun beating you that way."

"But what's the point if I'm not even a challenge?" she asked, watching him take her queen. Marek placed the piece to the side of the board and held out his hand. He wanted her to resign. She had no problem in doing so, but it sent a message. Defeat.