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11. What Makes a Team

She could tell that Deaton was ready to throw something at him—most likely her fist—but before she could, Flynn interrupted them once again. He cleared his throat, "I think we should go to the scene of the kill—"

"Which one?" Nicole muttered.

Flynn shot her a glare to which she mimicked zipping her lips and throwing away the key. He narrowed his eyes as they dropped to the floor. "We should go to the scene of the kill"—he lifted his gaze to Deaton—"where was it?"

"Maryland."

Flynn snapped his fingers, "Yes, there. Let's see what we can find."

"Tendras que," Carlos let out a heavy breath and rested his bottle down on the floor tiles. He reached for his cell phone in his pocket. He glanced at Deaton and then let his gaze fall on Flynn, "I have a few contacts that can help us with this weapon. I'll see if we can meet up."

Carlos grabbed his phone and excused himself to the corner of the small basement. His fingers skidded on the device in his hand and when they stopped, a worried expression crossed his features. He brought the device to his ear and shut his eyes before speaking to whoever was on the line.

"Sí," Carlos said a few minutes after, wrapping up his call. "I'll call, when I'm there."

He pocketed his cell phone and returned to his original seat on the wooden chair. He picked up the bottle on the floor and chugged it down. He slammed the bottle on the table before meeting their eyes.

"They're in Pennsylvania. They know someone who deals weapons in the black web. If Redstone's 'secret weapon' does any real damage, then he'll know about it."

* * *

"Turn here." Genevieve said to Flynn, her partner on their trip to Rockville, Maryland.

They were on the road for about an hour now, the sun was high in the sky and scorching through the windows. Flynn had already said that he would go to Maryland to follow up on Maya Imani's case. Carlos had to go to Pennsylvania since they were getting information from his contacts. Nicole had tagged along with him saying that she was the weapons' expert.

Deaton decided that Carlos and Nicole were more destructive than Genevieve was and went to Pennsylvania with them. And so, Genevieve was left to go with Flynn to Maryland.

"Did you figure out what was in that box?"

Her head tore from the screen to the side of his face. This was the first time on their drive to Maryland in which Flynn had brought up a subject outside of case-related details.

He had asked her about it earlier but she figured that he wouldn't pay it any attention now. She thought about lying to him. But she knew that however good a liar she may be, Flynn was a secret agent. He was a trained specialist in detecting deception.

So, instead of giving him an answer, she asked, "you noticed?"

"Yes,"—he glanced at her—"also you're trying to divert my question. What was in the box?"

Ever since Genevieve was little, her parents told her that she should be more expressive. She was always told to be like her brother. Smile when she felt happy, cry when she felt sad, and yell when she was angry. But she never saw the reason to it.

Though, after her brother died, her being hard to read had been ideal. And so, when Flynn said his next few words, her nails dug into her gloved hand once again.

"Don't worry you are hard to read." Flynn told her. She didn't say anything but he must have noticed her finger scratching the leather on her glove because he frowned. His eyes narrowed as he fell quiet in thought. Genevieve supposed the silence would calm her down, but it only drove her to dig her nails further into the leather of the glove.