Access Denied: The Bullseye

4. The Man In The Baseball Hat

"I hope you got here fine," Carlos De' Gracias said as Genevieve sat down. "And I hope you tip well. The guy who got you here does not do it for free."

Genevieve dropped her head and lowly chuckled. Carlos had changed much from the last time she saw him. He had longer hair that was tied into a ponytail by his neck. His brown skin seemed to glow in bronze. And he was much more expressive. He was no longer the expected, strong silent secret agent and sniper. His face seemed to talk even when he said nothing at all.

"Why are we here though?" Genevieve asked. "Last time we met, you said that that was going to be the last time."

"Something worthwhile came up."

The waiter came around and placed two coffees and a muffin on the table. Carlos reached for the small pouch of sugar on the table and ripped it open, the powdered sugar spilling all over. Brushing the powder of him, he reached for another pouch and carefully tore it open. Genevieve leaned back in her chair and waved her hand towards him, signalling for him to explain what was worthwhile.

Genevieve didn't know Carlos De' Gracias very well. She probably didn't even know him at the surface level at which colleagues would know each other. But the lack of concern and aim was something she had never seen in any Blind Spot agent or gang member. Neither the intelligence industry or crime realm could survive on carelessness.

In a business where duty, deception and money is more important than life and death, people were bound to be more careful. So was Carlos. Today, he was different.

"So right," he started, putting his cup down. "Before anything else, Blind Spot Agency just got a new Head."

Her eyes widened. "What happened to Davidson?"

As Carlos shook his left hand, Genevieve noticed the thick silver band around his ring finger. She controlled her face from falling in shock. "Davidson is only in charge of countries in the western hemisphere. Of all the places in the world, why base your intelligence agency in the U.S?"

She forced her gaze away from the silver ring. "Then where is Blind Spot's headquarters?"

"I couldn't tell you if I knew in the first place. That's level eleven clearance. Anyway—"

"So, you'll tell me who Blind Spot's new commander in chief is, but you won't tell me where he or she is based?" Her face scrunched up. "What happened Carlos?"

The day was horrible today. Windham was normally windy, as was most of Maine and places in the north. Today, however, there was also rain. Genevieve's appreciation for rain slowly decreased as she got older. There was no fun in it anymore. She didn't enjoy it. Rain and umbrellas just seemed sad.

But Carlos still seemed happy. Maybe because of the ring on his finger.

Suddenly, the expressive, happy Carlos vanished. "Change in leadership always means change in the way things are run. That's expected. Now generally that wouldn't be a problem, but this new—let's call our new Head, Tom—has some unusual priorities."

"Unusual?"

Carlos nodded. "International intelligence takes care of the surface problems. Blind Spot is here to take care of the things that the big dogs choose to ignore. And Tom seems to be more focused on the surface problems."

"That's not necessarily a bad thing," Genevieve told him, taking the first sip from her cup. There were many surface problems that needed solving. But Carlos seemed worried. He was worried enough to want to meet her—someone who could help him in absolutely no way possible—after he said that it was their last meeting.