Access Denied

There were a few things that Kiara Deaton hadn't seen in her days serving Blind Spot Agency as a Field agent. This place in Southern Pennsylvania, Carlos had brought her and Nicole to, was one of those things.

Carlos was leading them into a dingy looking street as he directed Kiara to stop at an old rusty no parking sign where a crowd of motorcycles and a handful amount of cars were parked. They got out of the old black Audi Kiara's husband, Phillip and her had bought as a Christmas present for themselves. The car was slowly losing its prior shine, but Kiara wasn't about to get a paint job.

In the five years they had owned the car, it had gone through everything. Late night parties, long road trips, car chases, critical health situations, bullet wounds and death.

The slamming of the car door brought her out of the daze as she climbed out of the car, locking it behind her. 

The neon banner highlighting the pub's name—THE CASKET—shone dully through the smoke scented air. The letters were crooked and some had flickering lights. Pounding music blared through the flimsy doors. The setting was one she wasn't too frank with.

Sure, she had been to clubs before, most informants preferred to meet there. Pubs were loud, crowded and dark, perfect for anyone to get away with anything.

"What is this place?" Nicole asked, already heading forward to investigate. Just as she was about to move out of their reach, Carlos held out an arm, stopping her mid step.

Instead of fighting off the glare Nicole threw his way, he gave them a tired explanation instead. "This is the Casket. My lead told me to meet them here."

Ah, yes, the lead.

Carlos De' Gracias was a very well-known name in the agency. He had been just on the verge of twenty when Blind Spot had discovered him and instantly flown him from Columbia to Philadelphia for immediate enrollment as a trainee in the agency.

Little was known about Carlos De' Gracias. Kiara knew quite a handful amount of important people in Blind Spot but not once had she heard of anyone who had had a hand in grooming Carlos De' Gracias.

It was simply unheard of.

Carlos fished out his cell phone from his back pocket and took his time in calling a number. He motioned to the device and Kiara gave him an acknowledging nod. He excused himself and finished his talk a few feet away from them. Between Nicole's small mutterings, Kiara managed to catch the gist of the conversation. "He's here? What do you mean—"

Some quick exchange between Carlos and the person on the other side of the line caused him to abruptly shut his mouth.

He nodded and muttered an annoyed 'thank you', hanging up after. He walked to them and braced himself by taking a deep breath. "We have a problem," he started, mainly directed at Kiara. "The guy that was supposed to meet me here, isn't coming... he sent someone else instead."

Kiara suspected the reason for Carlos's sudden change in stance but before she could speak, Nicole jumped in. "And why is that a problem?"

"To put it nicely, I don't have too much of a good acquaintance with this new guy." And with that finishing sentence, Carlos made his way to the sketchy pub.

Ear-blasting music and strong scents of alcohol bombarded them once they stepped inside. Closely knit bodies jumping—or dancing as they liked to call it—emitted heat as the three agents tried to push through the wild crowd.

Kiara suspected Carlos's lead would meet them near a lounge or bar area, but when Carlos didn't stop by the bartenders' station she was running out of options. Kiara didn't like being kept in the dark. Carlos rushed to the backdoor which read 'EXIT' in radiant letters.