“Come on, Branson, you haven’t said a thing about this cross-agency cooperation since it was declared. And don’t think I haven’t noticed that you curse under your breath every time someone mentions Regional Defense!”
Dying highway lights swept his face and they casted shadows that contoured his visage.
Mathew was disinterested in superficial soul searching so clenched his jaw, seeming to select the least impactful words to spur his partner. “That’s because cooperation with the Black Coats is the right move right now. Besides, it’s only temporary. This isn’t something to fuss over while we’re live on our way to the mission site.”
He likely hoped half an answer would suffice, but his wordplay was ineffective against Ashniin’s stubbornness. “Don’t try that. If our task force came across information that pertained to class-three prewar artifact trading, we’d already have to be securing the site just to get Regional to issue a court-ordered seizure.”
Ashniin switched quickly between checking the road ahead and scowling at his expressed agitations. Mathew’s mind was clearly predisposed, and he was either hiding something, or at least unwilling to expose her to whatever seemed to be bothering him.
“You feeling underappreciated?” he suggested, obviously determined to avoid serious dialogue.
“I’m feeling like access to Regional’s unknown sources could really help the Ofilius Blight Agency some, so yeah, perhaps.”