Special Agent | ✓

Twenty-Nine

One manicured finger tapped against the folder. A dozen sets of eyes shifted, landing on that slim folder.

"With the permission of the Director, I wish to introduce this evidence to all Chiefs. I am not the only one making this discussion, but merely asking you to consider all facts when it comes to the order itself."

Swallowing hard, Kent's eyes rested on the Director's. Kimmel stared back with a flat look, ice in her face.

"Thank you, Special Agent Kent. That'll be all."

Kent, dismissed, sat back down. Gavin saw she was seeking his gaze out of his peripheral, though he consciously kept his eyes on Tibble. Chief Tibble, in the meantime, had been listening intently to what Kent had been saying. Chief Tibble had that same look, Gavin realized, as Quinn when she was thinking hard. The one that said, plainly, 'I'm-scheming-and-you-won't-know-what's-coming'.

"Special Agent Locke," continued Kimmel. Locke's jaw clenched as he inclined his head to the Director. Across the table, Adina's eyes drilled holes into his face, "As you accompanied Kent here, I believe you should be given opportunity to raise your voice in this ... cause. In the name of facts and objectivity, of course."

Kimmel slid a sly glance Kent's way, words razor-sharp.

"Would you echo what Special Agent Kent has uttered so far, given your time working with Analyst O'Reilly?"

Eyes like thunder, Locke took a second to draw a breath. Once again, memories of Quinn flitted through his mind.

Quinn, flicking through files on the flight to Paris. Quinn, comfortably holstering a gun. Quinn at Hypatia. Quinn arguing with him. Quinn in Venice. Quinn arguing with him further.

"I'd say the Chiefs should know of the file's contents." Gavin said, finally, though he felt his own words scrape across his conscience like the edge of a knife. Because he knew, in that moment, what his words would sway the decision to. Knew what that file contained.

Guilt settled.

"Alright. Thank you, Special Agent Locke. I have made my decision." Kimmel leaned back in her chair, eyes grazing the table filled with wary Chiefs, " — copies of the file are to be made and handed out within 15 minutes. Each Chief will be given an hour to review its contents, before we reconvene here. Thoughts?"

"Yes," Chief Tibble said, eyes narrowing at Kent. Cam, in turn, settled with a comfortable, chillingly polite smile on her face, "I'd like to know when and how the information contained within this file was collected. In the name of factuality, of course." Adina gestured to Kent, the irony tinging her voice.

Kimmel's lips tilted as the Chief and Director stared down Kent, who moved her hands beneath the table. Locke's eyes shifted, watched the way she wrung her hands for only a brief moment in her lap, before she recollected herself.

"It is a compilation of information from mission files, Analyst O'Reilly's personnel files, and informants, whose identities are not my place to divulge."

"Despite the fact that the contents pertain to a kill order?" Adina said, raising her brows as her voice grew louder, " — I'd say a protected identity, in this case, is overshadowed by the fact that we're talking about an employee of the Agency."

Kent's hands folded beneath the table again, knuckles turning white.

"In this case, Chief Tibble, I'd have to say I need to keep my sources secret."

Tibble looked to Kimmel.

"Your call, Director." Adina eyed Irene with all of the cool disdain she could muster, letting the Director know exactly what she thought that call would be.

"It'll be up to all of us," replied Kimmel evenly. A hush went through the room, " — as we read through the file's contents."

Pressing a button on the slim keypad beside her, Kimmel spoke to her assistants waiting a floor below.

"We have some documents that need copying. No one else is to see them but us. Copy?"

A mumbled affirmative came through the intercom.

Within fifteen minutes, everyone in that room would get to see the contents of that file. Contents which had convinced Locke, Adina thought, of Quinn's guilt. It went against her current perception of him, updated by Quinn's mission notes from their collaboration. Because Adina knew they had been collaborating — could tell much of what Quinn thought of Locke from the way she'd spoken of him.

Yet, now, he was rallying against her, siding with Kent who'd recently sidled up on everyone's radar.

"We'll enter a brief intermission, waiting for the files. At ease, Chiefs." Kimmel stood up, immediately retrieving her smartphone from her coat as she started rapidly firing off messages. But Kimmel was not the person Adina was most interested in at the moment, no — it was the broad-shoulder agent who'd gotten to his feet on the other side of the table, shirt stretching over a toned physique. What Adina noted, however, was the shadows dragging at his eyes.

Shadows she intended to deepen further.

Rounding the table, Adina headed for Chief Vahid, in charge of technology, but chose to conveniently brush past Locke's form. He stilled, freezing in place as he met Tibble's unyielding stare.

"You remember the chat we had before your assignment, don't you Locke?"

His throat bobbed, face a slash of shadows as he angled his head away from Chief Tibble.

"You made promises, Agent Locke. Guarantees. The kind which you have now failed at."

"I don't answer to you." Gavin's reply was low, gravel-like.

Defensive, Adina thought, placing her hands on her hips as she straightened up.

"No, you don't." Adina's tone was soft, "But it doesn't really matter who you answer to, does it?"

Locke kept his eyes averted, focused on the London skyline. A vicious turmoil raged inside his dark eyes, one he'd slammed a firm wall of indifference over to keep from becoming too visible on his face.

As Adina remained standing by him, Locke eventually shifted his eyes down to face her.

"Then why bring it up, Chief Tibble?"

Something dark, pained, flashed across Adina's face.

"Because, as I said, it doesn't matter who you answer to. What matters is who you're turning against." Tibble's voice dipped low, turned sharp.

It slashed, viciously, at Gavin. Enough for him to return to a stoic silence, jaw turning into a sharp line as a scowl flitted across his face. Adina turned away, heading for Chief Vahid, while Locke kept his eyes on a chimney billowing smoke, situated on a random rooftop outside the Knightsbridge HQ.

Tibble's words had cut right to the target. Guilt churned, oily and foul, because Gavin knew bloody well who he was turning against. 

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a/n: hey lovelies! hope you're doing great, staying safe and well and practicing social distancing. in the meanwhile, i'll post as much as i can, but i'm also staying —busy— doing maths. if anyone here's an expert on mathematical induction & proof by induction, let me know. also, recently i've been obsessed with listening to 'slowed' songs on youtube. it's amazing, and such a vibe. 

anywho, here are the qotc: 

1. gavin doesn't seem to be doing well. what's happening with the conscience, boy? 

2. think quinn will have any more time to relax?

3. damn, think there are more secrets about quinn that'll be exposed in the folder? 

xo, cleo