a/n: third chapter updated tonight. writing these notes so no one misses the order of the chapters (i hope)
Fifty-Five
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The man seated between Tibble and Vahid had worked for the Department of Technology for two years. Special Agent Kent had approached him after only a couple of months on the job, asking for special favours in regards to her missions. Flattered by the attention of such an esteemed Special Agent, he had complied.
His name was Alan Smith, he was a technician at the Agency, and Quinn had never in her life met him — yet he had been the one to shatter her life into so many pieces she worried she was never going to pick them back up.
Noting the emotions playing out across Quinn's face, Gavin had reached out to place a firm hand on her thigh, eyes locking on hers. It reassured, slightly, and helped ease the uncomfortable notion that a stranger she had never run into had been the one to drive the final nail in her coffin.
Betrayed by someone I believed was my sister, as well as a complete stranger. Really crossing off the bucket list of terrible occurrences here.
It had been a smart move by Kent, really. Picking a stranger capable enough to plant false leads on Quinn's computer, ensuring she had no clue as to who could've done it.
Quinn forced herself to relax, lifting her hand until it rested atop Gavin's, which remained on her leg. The scowl he'd had in place since they had entered the conference room dropped as he met her look, something soft taking over his expression instead.
Things had moved quickly after Quinn had called Sarraf. She had been stunned when Imani had filled her in on how Davidson had tried to kill her, before she'd managed to overpower him and get him to confess the exact hows-and-whys through what Sarraf termed 'creative conversation'.
Quinn knew what it meant, and could see plainly what that creative conversation had done to Davidson's face. His eyes were swollen, mere slits of his irises visible, and a bruise was swiftly blooming across his cheek. He hadn't spoken yet, though he was next in the line of witnesses.
She dreaded what he had to say, listening with only half an ear to what Alan Smith was telling the Chiefs seated around the table. She'd snuck glances at Adina from the moment her and Gavin had entered the conference room, though they hadn't interacted other than the warm squeeze of her hand when she'd taken a seat at Tibble's end of the table.
Only hours ago, Quinn and Gavin had been in France, packing up the last of their things before they piled into the car and shot off to London. Quinn had not entirely anticipated the fact that the meeting would already be in session when they arrived, banking instead on the fact that Sarraf would be able to assemble the Chiefs herself.
Though, seeing Adina's plan had succeeded, Quinn couldn't complain. They had two out of three traitors in the room with them, slowly recounting the tale of how, exactly, Special Agent Cameron Kent had made them all look like fools.
None of the Chiefs present had spoken a word since Quinn and Gavin had entered, merely relying on Kimmel to steer the conversation. Not that it was a conversation — Alan Smith had been monologuing his entire misfortunate tale for the past half an hour, stopping only to catch his breath and recoil further from Chief Tibble as she glared at him.
"I couldn't stop working for her, since she had paid me in dirty money. I didn't know, I swear, but then she told me and — " Smith trailed off, looking dejected, " — and then I couldn't get out of it, and I had to help her."
"There were no moral alarms ringing when Quinn ended up in the line of fire?" Adina asked, eyes narrowing.
"I won't lie — I was relieved. She would take the blame, and I ... I would get off. Scot-free." He chuckled, weakly.
Gavin's hand tightened on Quinn's leg as his scowl grew, eyes zeroing in on the technician. Smith had pointedly avoided so much as breathing in Locke's general direction since he'd entered the room with Quinn, and it seemed he was intent on continuing to avoid Gavin's intent stare.
"While this is undoubtedly interesting —" co-Chief Sanders starting, throwing an anxious look Adina's way, " — how do we know it isn't simply conjecture?"
Sanders aimed a look Vahid's way.
"You could have threatened Mr. Smith as well, resulting in his testimony. It casts doubt on O'Reilly's initial kill order, certainly, but there is no concrete evidence."
"I'm glad you pointed that out, Chief Sanders." Tibble replied, shoulders squared, " — because the memo I sent out wasn't just a fun way of slamming your department.
Now, both Sanders and Havas directed incredulous looks Kimmel's way, but the Director declined to move even an inch in response. Instead, Kimmel remained still, listening to Adina's story.
"Op HLS," Vahid started, picking up from Adina, " — was a way of catching whoever worked for Kent inside the Agency."
Smith looked sheepish.
"Whoever planted those transactions on Quinn's computer must've had her admin code. The memo we sent out to every employee here included directions to hypothetically irrefutable evidence of someone else's guilt."
Vahid paused for a moment, her thrumming as she held the attention of everyone in the room, including Kimmel, who regarded the young Chief with an almost unnoticeable hint of approval.
"The file would include directions to a specific shelf in the basement, and to access that location, you'd need her admin code. Since Quinn wasn't present, it left only one option."
Eylem leaned back. Thinking of how Adina usually worked, she straightened in her chair rather than hunching back, tipping her chin proudly as she stood up for her cause. Tibble noted it, approved it with the barest flicker of a smile.
"How do we know you didn't just .. make this up?" Havas asked, waving his hand flippantly.
Vahid's face grew cold, "Because we've got it on video. That good enough for you?"
She reached into her pocket, withdrew the thin portable camera she'd brought. With careful movements, she placed it on the conference table. The light thud of the camera held a certain finality to it, as if to punctuate the statement further.
Silence fell for seconds. Quinn knew she had to speak up, and so she lightly cleared her throat, garnering the attention of the people who'd sentenced her to death mere weeks before. She met each and every one of their eyes with a steely calm she hadn't know she had.
Gavin's hand remained beneath hers, and she squeezed it lightly before she started speaking.
"You may think it's stupid of me to return here, when I have a death sentence on my name," Quinn started, voice unwavering, " — but I know I'm innocent. Adina believes I'm innocent. Eylem does. Imani does. Gavin does, too."
Quinn lifted her eyes to meet Kimmel's, held that subzero stare even though she wanted to look away.
"I would never have returned if I was not certain I could clear my guilt. Clear my name, after the ... decision you made."
Some Chiefs chose to avert their eyes from Quinn as she spoke, shame flushing their faces as she spoke without faltering.
"It was a calculated risk, coming back here. As I said, I would not have done it if I didn't think you would believe me — and if I didn't have a plan on luring Kent back here."
This time, the Chiefs looked up again. None of them spoke, however, until a familiar voice rang out once again: Havas.
"You're assuming we believe Kent is guilty," Havas argued, " — what if we don't?"
Quinn's temper roiled, and her mind went back to the moment he'd dragged her out of her apartment, had humiliated her in front of the entire Committee, dragging up her past only to spit it in her face.
Since then, Quinn had braved the field work of Special Agents, survived being shot, and feared for her life on a number of occasions. She wouldn't let that bald-headed moron make a fool of her ever again.
Letting a scowl fierce enough to rival Gavin's grow on her face, Quinn bit out a reply:
"Then you're even more stupid than you look, Havas."
Tibble was the only one brave enough to tip her head back and laugh gleefully. Gavin smiled sharply, though his eyes promised violence as they regarded Havas. Even Sarraf let a small smile grace her face. Sanders looked painfully caught in the middle, as usual, while Havas opened and closed his mouth, searching for words.
Deciding to bail Havas out from his embarrassment, Kimmel was the one to speak next.
"I wish to call for a brief break. 15 minutes." Her voice rang out clearly, before her eyes fastened on Davidson, "Make sure Special Agent Davidson is awake and ready to testify by then. Put Mr. Smith into holding in the meanwhile."
She had pressed the intercom by her seat, calling in two guards who hauled Davidson out of the room, presumably to wake him up. Another pair of guards entered to grasp Mr. Smith by the arms, stepping out of the room moments later. The rest of the Chiefs didn't stir at first, remaining rooted in place as if shocked into utter stillness.
The ones who moved first were Quinn and Tibble. Carefully, Quinn climbed out of her chair, eyes locking on Tibble. Adina had already crossed half the distance between them, eyes glinting. Gavin was the one to stand up first, holding a light palm in Adina's way.
She stopped, abruptly, directing a glare his way.
"She's been shot," Gavin said carefully, gesturing to the side of his stomach, "Be careful with her."
Adina felt the words slam into her, heart clenching as she nodded, then sidestepped Gavin to reach Quinn. Closing the last distance, Tibble finally exhaled when she got her eyes on Quinn.
Both women looked tired — there were shadows in their eyes, a hint of fatigue in the set of their shoulders despite first impressions. All that melted away, however, as the two slowly smiled at one another. Slowly, carefully, Quinn extended a hand as if to shake Adina's hand.
"I wanted to say thank — "
Adina shook her head vehemently, pushing aside the offered hand, before drawing Quinn into a hard embrace. She was mindful of the wound, though it didn't stop her from smoothing a careful hand down the back of Quinn's head, the gesture oddly motherlike. Quinn fought back a sniffle, though she felt her eyes tearing up as she gripped Adina just as hard in return.
"I'm glad you're alright." Adina said it quietly, the words only audible between the two of them.
"I'm glad you are," Quinn shot back.
Slowly, they withdrew. Adina's eyes skipped over Quinn's face as if inspecting it for further danger.
"What were you thinking, getting yourself thrown in jail?" Quinn shook her head with a small smile.
"I wanted my protege back. It's terribly boring drinking whiskey all by my lonesome."
Adina sighed deeply, and Quinn felt a slight laugh spill from her throat.
"I'm sure you found someone to share it with," Quinn said, eyes sliding to Vahid, who remained seated.
Eylem hadn't gotten up with the rest of them, pointedly avoiding the reunion between mentor and mentee.
Noting the sly look, Adina smiled.
"Eylem," Tibble called. Vahid's head snapped up, " — come say hello."
She did, wandering over to them seconds later with an apprehensive look on her face. Vahid moved a springy curl out of her sight as she neared, eyes on the woman she'd helped save.
"Thank you." Quinn smiled, reaching out to shake Vahid's hand firmly, "You helped us both, in ways I can most likely never repay."
Vahid regained her composure, squeezing Quinn's hand back as she regarded the woman she'd only met briefly, but had fought for.
"I'm sure you could buy me a coffee or two." Vahid said graciously.
Quinn laughed again, drawing Gavin's attention. Something soft entered his eyes when he glanced at her, visible only for brief moments before he turned back to face Sarraf.
Sarraf had watched the interaction with interest, "Special Agent Locke, I almost can't believe it."
Her voice held a teasing edge. Gavin dragged his eyes back to Sarraf, the soft look completely replaced by a friendly scowl.
"None of your business, Sarraf."
"I'd say it is, considering I helped all that happen." Sarraf cocked her hip to the side, crossing her arms above her chest as she arched a manicured brow.
Gavin sent a doubtful look her way, "You're just happy you got to beat Davidson up."
"Mhm, yeah, that too. And the justice thing, of course." Sarraf shrugged it off.
Gavin shook his head, though the shadow of a smile passed his face.
"You never change, Imani."
Imani glanced at her colleague with a slight smirk, "If it ain't broke .."
She trailed off, the end obvious enough to the two of them.
Gavin snuck another glance at the trio a few steps away. Adina, Eylem and Quinn seemed content to delve into some type of technical discussion he couldn't dream of catching up to, so he was more than happy to lounge with Sarraf.
"Think they'll believe us?" Imani asked, tilting her head Locke's way.
"Kimmel's smart. They have to."
Imani nodded, eyes resting on the Chiefs remaining in the room. Though she'd never admit it, she wanted to see this through just as much as the rest of them. If anyone claimed emotional involvement, though, Locke was more than sure they'd end up with Imani's fist through some body part before that sentiment could be explored.
"What do you think happens to Scott?"
Mentioning his name made a sneer appear on Imani's face, a dark look crossing her eyes. Though she moved normally, behaved normally, Gavin had hinted the injuries she'd obviously sustained as a result of her fight with Davidson. She covered them well, and would never approve anyone fussing in any way, shape or form, though Locke knew it was one cornerstone of the anger she harbored toward Scott.
"If he snitches, he'll get a reduced sentence. It's how it goes."
Imani shrugged again, appearing unbothered.
"You could push for a harder sentence. They'll listen to you." Gavin said, angling his head her way, "If you want to, of course."
Remaining still, Sarraf stared at the chair where Scott had been half-slumped for the past hour, eyes vacant.
Gavin knew that look. It was the same one Quinn had whenever she thought too hard about the betrayal of someone close to her. He knew Sarraf better than to offer consolation, and so Gavin chose to speak instead.
"You helped save Quinn's life, Imani."
"Don't you dare get sentimental on me, Locke." The reply was dry, and Sarraf kept her eyes directed everywhere but at Gavin.
"I'm not," Gavin replied, "It's just a thank you. If there's anything we can do ...-"
"We?" Imani repeated, intrigued, "It's officially a 'we' unit now, then?"
Gavin scowled quickly, "Yes. No. I haven't — we haven't - "
The laugh that escaped Sarraf was quick and carefree, eyes crinkling.
"That's all the thank you I need, Locke. Seeing you that flustered and out of sorts. Made my bloody year."
Gavin sighed, and Imani smiled even wider. Locke wasn't even slightly put off by her teasing, as he'd noted that vacant look had disappeared from her eyes.
The smaller discussions in the room were broken by the sound of Kimmel banging her gavel against the conference table.
"Order, Chiefs."
Slowly, people moved back to their seats. They were seated in much the same way as before, only Eylem sat at the head of the table across from Kimmel, flanked by Sarraf on one side, Adina on the other. Quinn sat right beside Tibble, and on her other side sat Locke, the buffer between her and the Chiefs on the other end.
Kimmel reached for the intercom, pressing the button.
"Bring in Special Agent Davidson, please. Leave Mr. Smith in holding."
Davidson appeared at the entryway to the conference room minutes later, looking decidedly more awake than he'd been last. His face remained blotchy and swollen, and none of his usual charm of charisma could be found in the sneer he aimed Sarraf's way.
Imani didn't reciprocate, merely remaining still in her chair as she regarded his broken form. The guards lowered him into an empty chair at the middle of the table — a noticeably rift between Vahid's side, and the Director's side of the table.
Now, though, that rift was closed by Davidson.
Hopefully that will apply in the theoretical sense, too, Quinn thought, looking at Davidson.
Kimmel surveyed the room again, fingers tapping the edge of her gavel as she thought long and hard about something. It seemed she finally made up her mind, as she started speaking:
"I want everyone out of this room for 20 minutes."
Protests rose up from the mass of them. Kimmel held up a hand, palms facing them. The noise died down, the Chiefs adhering to their Director.
"20 minutes. Everyone out. Tibble, gather your people in your office."
Adina nodded, though her eyes narrowed at the Director. Slowly, people rose from their chairs again — until Kimmel spoke once more:
"Except you, O'Reilly. Stay."
Quinn blinked, looking up at the Director. Deciding quickly, she sank back down into her chair. Gavin anchored a firm hand on her shoulder, eyes narrowing at Kimmel.
"We'll be safe," Kimmel elaborated, surprised by the pointed glare Gavin had sent her way as a response to her decision. Her eyes shot between Quinn and Gavin as he squeezed her shoulder, before that hand slid up to caress her cheek.
Seconds later, he filed out of the room with the rest of them, throwing another look over his shoulder to Kimmel, who disregarded it. Vahid touched Quinn's shoulder as she passed her, eyes flicking back to her seat.
Quinn followed it, noted that Vahid had left the gun behind where she'd sat. A precaution.
Kimmel eyed both Scott and Quinn, re-folding her hands in front of her.
"No time to waste," Kimmel said, at last, "Let us begin, shall we?"
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a/n: ahh are we enjoying it?
qotc:
1. the adina x quinn reunion - what do we think???
xo, cleo