Death threat

Acting like stupid people drunk on love, they ran away from Archer. Inconspicuously, they took a turn and moved towards their ice cream van. A few kids were standing at the window looking for the ice cream, but Trevor was shooing them away telling them that they were all finished with the ice cream.

"Hey! Run along!" shouted Trevor.

"Motherflocker!" shouted a cute child.

"What did you just call me?" screamed Trevor but the kids just stuck their tongues out and ran away from there.

"Wow! Even getting insulted by kids, good going, Trevor," taunted Journee.

"You, you, I am your boss," he snapped at her.

She boarded the van and without blinking she moved forward and stood in his face. With one raised eyebrow she opened the knot of her shirt and straightened it out. While buttoning up her shirt she clapped back, "You are not my boss. You are just the liaison between different law departments. Even if we see our ranks, I am your superior."

"But… but you report to me," gulped Trevor.

"As I said, you are THE LIAISON. So next time, don't dress up the van as the ice cream truck. An ice cream truck without ice cream seems suspicious, do you understand?"

Trevor gulped, hard and stepped back but his back bumped into the wall of the van. Journee was done with her buttons and after straightening out her collar she looked around. Henry was still outside. She took out the pouch of drugs from her pocket and placed them in a seal-tight evidence box.

Suddenly there was a commotion outside. "Keep it safe," shouted Journee to one of the members of the IT team as she placed the evidence box in a password-coded locker in the van. Trevor, Journee, and Jack, all three jumped from the van to see what was happening. Both Henry and Harris were hitting and slapping each other awkwardly. Henry was trying to make him run away but Harris kept moving forward towards the van.

Journee moved forward and grabbed Harris by his collar and separated both of them. "What is happening?" she shouted.

Harris pulled his collar away from her hand and shouted at her. "You… you… what did you do? Why did you do that?" he tried to sound confident but was low-key scared of her.

"Hmm…" she growled and stepped forward. Harris immediately jumped back and made fists at her. He stood in an orthodox stance and looked at her. "Really!" she raised an eyebrow. Without warning, she jumped in the air and kicked him hard on the side of his face. Harris fell to the ground instantly.

"You are mean," he started crying.

"Oh, shit!" Journee threw her hands in the air. "Henry! Pick him up." Henry, on her command, knelt down and gave his hand to him, politely but Harris rejected it with a flick of his palm. "Now I have to deal with a kid, great!" she rolled her eyes and offered her hand to Harris. "Take my hand or I will hit you again," she gritted her teeth and warned him.

Scared, he raised his hand and placed his palm in his. She pulled him up and he stood up instantly. "Come with me," she ordered. She took him inside her van and made him sit in a chair. She offered him water to drink and kept looking at him pathetically. He was still sniffling.

"Oh my God! Stop it. Stop crying. I didn't hit you that hard," she screamed at him.

"Good going, Ma'am. He is already crying, and your shouting will make him bawl," Jack came near her ears and whispered, teasingly. Swiftly, she dug her elbows into his stomach and the wind was knocked out of his lungs. He gasped for air and started coughing. "Sorry!" he coughed and went far from her. He didn't want to get hit again.

"How would you know? Have you been kicked in your face?" sniffled Harris.

"Multiple times, you have no idea how many times," she taunted him.

"Moreover, I am not crying because you hit me," whined Harris.

"Then what is your problem?" asked Journee.

"He kept hitting me because he wanted to punish you," commented Henry.

"Really!" Journee lowered herself and came close to his face. Involuntarily, his body jerked itself back and he sunk further into the chair. He immediately hid his face with his hands as he didn't want to get hit by Journee again.

"I… I just wanted… to ask… why did you… pick the bodyguard's pocket?" he stammered.

"Because you gave me the idea," Journee taunted.

"That was my job. You have no idea what my boss will do," cried Harris.

"Ask your boss to talk to me."

"I don't even know who you are or what law enforcement agency you work for. Are you DEA?" asked Harris.

"No, idiot we are NY…" Trevor snorted and started telling him everything but abruptly Journee stood up and stared at him.

"Why don't you tell him the time you poop and pee? Or your home address or your social security number?" she mocked him with a devilish, sarcastic smile on her face.

Trevor realized that he made a mistake. Harris's eye widened after hearing 'NY'. He realized that they were NYPD officers. Why was NYPD interested in the Hall family, he pondered.

"That's why I don't want you on any one of my mission. You are an idiot," she shrieked.

"What? He is FBI, you said so," he tried to justify his mistake. "It's only another agency, it's not that I spilled the beans before a criminal."

"And when have the FBI exchanged any information with us? They think they are so superior to us mere cops. Every agency believes in inter-agency cooperation but not the FBI. They are lone wolves, like just this idiot sitting here, he came alone like a lone rider, FBI didn't even send a supervisor with him" she pointed at Harris.

"What?" mouthed Harris. Henry looked at him and put a finger on his lips to signal him to not say a single word.

Meanwhile, Journee kept ripping into Trevor. "You moron, you really have no idea when to open your mouth and when to close it. You keep blabbing out the information unnecessarily. Everyone in NYPD thinks that you are the mole, but I know you can never be a mole. You are too stupid to be a double agent. Who selected you as the liaison, he must be FIRED."

"A mole inside NYPD?" repeated Harris so that he could remember that fact later on.

After Journee was done snapping, she realized that made a mistake. She blurted out about the mole and Harris heard it. She turned towards him and went in his face. Their noses were almost touching. "Tell a single soul what you heard inside this van, I will find you and skkkinnn you alive." She sucked her teeth to appear more menacing.

"You… cannot… do… that," he stammered with fear. "I… I will file a case against you for threatening, death threat."

She smirked and said, "what is my name?"

"Um…" Harris was taken aback. He had no idea who she was or what her name was. All he knew was everyone worked for NYPD and searching for a person in the vast sea of NYPD personnel would take up a lot of time.

"And what is the proof I threatened you?" she asked again. Harris looked at everyone standing behind her. She smirked and turned around to look at them too. "These people? You think they will help you? Huh…" she scoffed. "Let me tell you this, I can kill you right here, right now and they won't bat an eye."

Harris gulped with fear.

"Please give me that drug sample and I will not tell a single soul what you all did to me today," begged Harris.

Journee who was leaning over Harris slowly stood up straight. She looked at Harris, shockingly. "You knew it was drugs in his pocket? FBI knew that the bodyguard would put drugs in his pocket. How?"

Harris closed his eyes and pursed his lips tightly realizing that he made a mistake. Journee grabbed his collar and pulled him towards herself. She squinted her eyes and stared into his soul. "For how many days you were training for the pickpocket job? Tell me the truth," she sneered.

"For more than two weeks," Harris replied weakly.

Journee left his collar with a jerk. Her mouth fell open. She looked at Jack and Henry.

"We heard about the picnic a few days back, how he was training for more than two weeks?" asked Henry, surprised.

"And he knew about the drugs in the pocket whereas we just found out by staring at the camera," said Jack.

Harris now realized that he was sitting inside the mobile operating room of NYPD. There were screens on half of the van and Archer's face was plastered on all of them. "Thank god, they have no idea he is FBI," he thought.

"Okay enough, we clearly can't talk before him. We have to cut him loose," said Journee.

"What? No," cried Harris. "Don't kill me, I won't tell a soul."

His shouting and pleading made everyone look at each other. They all were confused. "Kill? Who the hell said anything about killing?" asked Henry.

"She said," Harris pointed at Journee.

"Heh?!" all exclaimed.

"She said to cut me loose," he pouted.

"You idiot! She meant to let you go. Where have you heard that 'to cut someone loose' means 'to kill'?" said Henry by air quoting the phrases.

"Oh!" Harris was embarrassed.

"Move, get out of my van. And again, a warning before you go. I know your address, if I hear a word about me in the market, you better sleep with one eye open, coz I will come knocking."

The moment Journee completed her sentence, Harris stood up from the chair and ran out like flash and was gone in an instant.