Access Denied: The Bullseye

I'm getting tired of doing this—

Wait. That wasn't how you started these. Marlowe almost forgot.

It... is the... I think, 27th of September. Okay.

27th September, 2022

Voice Entry No. 173

Hi. So... I really do not know what to say. She was not in the mood to do this today.

So as usual I go into the training room today. There was a man there. He was a trainer, he told me since Kiara won't be here he'd try and come in to help my form. Kiara probably told him to come in, I'm sure of that. She isn't going to be here for a while. The mission has "officially" started.

The loud barking of a labrador stopped her from talking. Reaching down she petted Waldo—that's what she called her cheery guide dog. Her father had adopted Waldo when he was a puppy. When she had gone blind. When her mother died. He had been at her grandma's for a long time now.

She didn't want to tell Blind Spot that she needed something from them. Her dad did. Look where that got him. But eventually Kiara found out and somehow got them to get Waldo to her.

Okay. Where were we? Waldo's fine. The agents here brought him back. I didn't ask them to. But now that he's here it really is better, I guess. It's actually embarrassing bumping into walls the few times I do. Everyone here is... well, an agent. Of some kind. I started getting the hang of moving around before but then they changed my room. I had to relearn the routes to everywhere and sometimes I looked so sad. Crashing into nothing.

She took a breath. What else was there to say? You know I'm starting to get tired of this place. The people get boring after a while. The facilities get boring. Everything is...

Not everything. There were things she liked, but nothing was... good anymore. Nothing felt good. And she knew the reason why. Her Dad. She missed her Dad.

... sad. Everything's just sad and empty and not worth it anymore. And... and... and—

Marlowe pressed the stop button on the recorder. She was done. She had nothing to say.

Her paternal grandmother had died around the same time Marlowe was born. Her mother always liked to say that she was the way she was because of her grandmother. Because somehow her grandmother had taught her something or been reborn. According to her Mom, Marlowe got her suspicion and pessimism from her grandmother.

Maybe blind, but Marlowe Agnor had never been oblivious.

Her father did bad things. She knew it, Nevi knew it, Blind Spot knew it. Everyone who knew her father for more than the man that always bought the last carton of eggs at the store knew it. Because they all had that in common. People who knew her father weren't good people.

"You can't question morality." They might've had some good in them. Her father was a good man, why couldn't anyone else he knew be? But they weren't clean people. They had done something or known something. Because otherwise meeting the boss of an illegal racing circuit didn't make sense.

But if all these people were bad—why was only her dad called the bad one. Why was it her dad that was kidnapped? Why were people discussing the opportunity cost of rescuing him? Why not just do it?

Nevi was nice, but she was a thief. Granted she was a kleptomaniac. But that didn't excuse everything else. She was in a gang once. She had shot someone once. She had gambled, she had flirted to steal. And that was just what Marlowe knew.

Blind Spot was the same. They were an organization with the right to kill. They would never be charged if they killed an innocent man. Or never took the initiative to rescue him from kidnapping. Mistakes have consequences. Blind Spot's mistakes would be classified. Hidden. Forgotten.

Waldo barked. Her recorder beeped. She reached for it.

I'll find you Dad. And I don't care what these people say... I know lies. And that's all Blind Spot does.

Lie.