P. Stormcrow

Olivia continued to mutter under her breath as they piled back into Finn’s car. Jackson’s face had darkened, and the usual twinkle of humor in his eyes had disappeared. Finn was not that dense. This delivery company must use the same sub-dimensional space as the tube system, but she wasn’t certain how. Physics was already beyond her. Okay, this was beyond physics.

“Guys. I need a navigator,” Finn spoke as she pulled her seat belt on, snapping both out of their funks. What she didn’t understand was how personally they were both taking this. 

“Okay, okay. I got it.” The sound of rustling papers heralded the first instructions from Olivia. But Jackson still said nothing as they headed to the address Agent Olsen gave them.

If they were alone, Finn would have pulled the car over a long time ago to get Jackson to talk. Though they didn’t know each other well, their last case had bonded them enough that she felt comforting just asking straight up. But Olivia’s presence had changed the dynamics, so she just gritted her teeth until they arrived at their destination.

Which turned out to be a giant glass tower. Finn did a double take as she pulled into the visitor’s parking. 

“That can’t be right,” Jackson muttered and ducked to gain a better view out of the windshield. “Inguz Technologies.”

Finn snapped her head to the plaque with the name, surrounded by flowers and rocks off to one side. But the behemoth of a glass coffin offset any friendliness the arrangement had tried to convey. She hadn’t realized that Inguz Tech had an office here. Unease crept along her spine.

“Before anyone asks, I’m positive I have the right place,” Olivia stated, trying to sound calm, but Finn detected notes of frustration laced in her words.

When her partner still didn’t speak up, Finn stifled a sigh. “I know, Olivia,” she tried to soothe as she parked. Once she turned off the vehicle, she squared her shoulders and stepped out of the car. “Come on, let’s go check it out.” Maybe SIDDelivery rented a basement suite from these guys. Or that was what she kept telling herself as they trudged up to the building.

Beside her, Jackson remained stiff as he walked. Enough was enough. Finn reached for him and touched his shoulder. “What’s up?”

Jackson stopped, Olivia on the other side, and they exchanged uneasy glances at each other. 

“It’s just…”

“This is our home,” Olivia cut in. “The tube system is the backbone our agents depend on. Without it…”

“We are going into gun fights with knives…” Jackson finished for her, but he was no longer looking down at Finn. Instead, his gaze followed something behind her.

Finn spun around in time to see a Bentley driving by. The rear passenger window opened enough for a quick glimpse of the side profile of a woman sitting n the back. But when she returned to study Jackson, she found him even paler than usual.

“Jackson?” Finn touched his shoulder again. Now he really worried her.

But he shook out of his trance and refocused on her. “We should come up with a co—”

Before he could finish his sentence, Olivia marched past them, straight to the door.

“Wait!” Finn called out before she snapped her mouth shut lest she drew attention to them. Exchanging a glance with Jackson, she hurried to follow.

The sliding doors slid open with a low whoosh and they stepped into a wide lobby of large beechwood colored tiles. A coffee bar clung to the far wall, with employees dotting the high tables and barstools near it. Everyone dressed in tech casual, and it hit Finn how much they stuck out like sore thumbs in their suits. Except for Olivia. She fitted right in, and now Finn wished she had slowed enough for them to figure out how to use that to their advantage.

Finn turned this way and that until she spied Olivia marching up to the receptionist behind the counter expansive desk with a subtle pattern at its side and a smooth marble top. She tugged Jackson and crossed the space, catching up to Olivia just as she took out her badge. 

“FBI.”

Shit. Finn resisted the urge to facepalm and glimpsed the twitch in Jackson’s right eye.

The receptionist’s face smoothed over to a polite expression. “How may I help you, agents?” 

Finn pulled Olivia back while Jackson slipped in front, offering his most charismatic grin. “We are looking for SIDDelivery. Our office received a package by mistake.”

And there it was, that tension in her shoulders, the curve of her lips frozen in its place. Out of the corner of her eyes, she glimpsed men in security uniforms drawing closer, and within five seconds, a man in a full suit emerged from a set of glass doors that separated the public from the private areas.

“Agents,” he greeted, extending a hand to Finn first. “My name is Charles Thomson. I’m from the legal department. How can I help you today?”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. They had screwed up their all-important entry beyond repair. She shook hands with him and noted how his smile grew just a smidge larger. She let go with haste and he turned toward Jackson and Olivia, completing the round of handshakes. The guy was smooth. Too smooth.

“Yes, we tracked down a delivery company by the name of SIDDelivery to this address.” Jackson spoke with a casual time, though Finn was well aware by now that it was a long shot.

“Hmm. I see. And do you have a warrant, officers?”

Finn cringed on the inside. They all knew this was coming. Or at least she and Jackson did. 

Her partner gave a nonchalant shrug. “The information’s public.”

“Hmm, I see.” Charles nodded, as if pretending to consider their ask. “But yeah, to protect my client’s confidentiality, we are going to require that warrant before I can divulge any information. We are in the innovation space and all our materials are highly sensitive. I’m sure you understand.”

Jackass. Finn was proud that she thought the word rather than utter it out loud.

“Oh completely. I’ll let my director and the judge know you require a warrant to confirm what your company has already published.” Jackson didn’t stay to hear Charles’ comeback, but turned to raise a hand over his shoulder in goodbye. 

It was a no-win situation, one that even her partner didn’t bother trying to salvage anymore. Finn took his cue and followed, dragging Olivia with her before the other could protest. It wasn’t until they returned to the car that Finn slammed the driver door harder than she intended and slumped into the driver’s seat. 

Next to her, Jackson pushed his hair back and closed his eyes as he rolled his head against the headrest. 

She opened her mouth, about to launch into all the reasons she agreed with his silent sentiment about the colossal fuck up this was when Olivia spoke in a smaller voice..

“I’m sorry.”

It was a sucker punch to her stomach, one that knocked the wind out of her angry sails. She shut up and opted for silence. Seconds ticked by without either of them saying a word back. Because Finn refused to give her platitudes. It wasn’t okay.

“Just…” Jackson started, but stopped once more with a long exhale. “I know being on the field can be very exciting but you can’t just shoot from the hip.” He shuffled and bumped into more than one side of the car, but twisted around to catch the girl’s eyes.

Finn spied the flush of embarrassment on Olivia’s cheeks and felt a pang of pity. “Everyone’s aware something’s up with Inguz Tech. We’re not the first department that had tried to investigate them, but they have a damn talented team of lawyers. What we need is another way in, something…” 

“Wait. This doesn’t add up. If they are trying to keep this all a secret, why list a public address? Why have the company name on the package? And how the hell would they even get clients?” Olivia used the headrests to pull herself forward.

They were all good questions Finn had no answers to. But her logical brain could break down things more structurally. “Okay, so a couple of scenarios. First, it’s an underground service. Like a referral by friends only.”

“That doesn’t sound like this place,” Olivia interjected.

“No. Second, this package is some kind of experiment, a prototype. But why put a label on it at all?”

“Unless it’s not from here at all but a setup,” Jackson spoke at last, excitement in his voice.

“We need to track down who threw that information up online. Olivia, how good is Agent Olsen technically?” Finn’s fingers itched for a keyboard. This was her old job and one she loathed to entrust to someone else. But she was a field agent now.

“Well…” Olivia twirled a strand of hair around her finger. “We had hired him as a junior analyst.”

Great. “Okay, let’s go.” Finn breathed out. This was going to be easy.

“Where?” Jackson turned to her with genuine surprise.

“Back to my place.”