Special Agent | ✓

Fifty-Five

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."