The boy was intimidated by Journee. He kept pulling his hand, but her grip was too strong. He kept twisting and twirling his hand but was unsuccessful. He had to get away from her. He had a mission to complete. And here she was instructing him to leave the park.
"But I…" he protested.
"What is your name?" Journee stared into his eyes, intensely.
"I am not telling you that," smirked the boy.
Journee gave him a bored look and exhaled loudly. "I have your wallet and I can bet that it has your ID in it."
The smirk from his face vanished. He just looked at Journee and gulped. He facepalmed mentally over his grave mistake.
"So, I was right," Journee shook her head with disbelief. She pulled the boy closer and scolded, "who the hell trained you? Is this your first time undercover?"
"Yes," he lowered his head with shame.
"Since when the FBI is incompetent," taunted Journee.
