'You are going to help me acquire something very valuable,' he spoke close to my ear, his breath fanning down my neck.
I looked up at the paintings in front of us, all worth millions of pounds, and then at the spot on the wall where one was missing...
'And you're absolutely certain you want to do this, Atlas?' Zayn asks from the front seat of the vehicle. This would be the fifth time that question has left his lips, but my answer has remained the same.
It's past 10pm, our car sat under a streetlight on an empty road in West London. The orange hues create shadows on our faces that accentuate just how tired we all are given the events of the last week. On theirs I see the pale and almost bruised looking skin of exhaustion, while my own heavy bags feel fuller under my eyes. It's difficult not to focus in on these details when it's all that can distract us from what we're about to do.
It's quiet, ominously so, no soul in sight. Commuters are safely tucked away in their beds while the residents of the city remain in their properties as the darkness settles upon them. Being mid-week, the bars aren't as packed and the streets are slightly sparser, especially in this area. Evenings like this I find peace in the silence of the capital. It's not often I find myself in this side of the city, but the stillness of it is welcoming.
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I sigh again, pushing my hair out of my face as I meet Zayn's eyes through the mirror above him. 'Just like ten minutes ago, I'm positive,' I respond. My hands have already started shifting in the bag of weapons on my lap, pulling out those that I feel most comfortable with. 'I'm not going to sit idly by anymore. He wants a war, he's got one.'
In the days since Harry's attack, Zayn, Babz and I had made it clear to each other that we intended to enact our revenge on Hugo and his team. At first, we were unsure how, all three of us charged only by anger that our judgement was blurred by it. Granted, what we're about to do probably isn't the wisest choice, but when you hurt one of us you hurt all of us. I've come to realise just how strong of a family unit they all are this week.
While Harry rests at home, we decided to take it upon ourselves to send a message to those that sought to wound him. Violence isn't something I've ever felt drawn to; just a month ago I would have thrown a fit at the idea of inflicting it. However, it seems like the only rational thing in my mind to do after witnessing the pain I saw Harry's body go through, and the fear that erupted within me because of it. No longer will I rely on others to do these tasks. I intend to immerse myself in this world as deep as I can from now on.
I've been tending to him throughout the week, rushing home as soon as I can after work. Harry made sure someone was there to pick me up so Hugo didn't send someone after me in his absence, which has allowed the three of us the time to plan our next move. Harry doesn't know, of course, he'd try to stop it immediately if he did. He'll find out once it's done. It's the only way.
What we're about to do shouldn't be dangerous for us. The woman we seek out will be on her own, that's for certain. George had also helped us on the side lines by tracking her schedule and hacking into the CCTV footage of the building we now wait outside. Once we enter, all cameras will be turned off and the footage will be replaced by a continuous sequence of the empty hallway from earlier today. A simple thing, George has informed me. He even tried to teach me how to do it yesterday. Part of me liked the notion that I could one day do something like that. He's a clever guy, perhaps too clever for his own good, but that's not going to stop him. Louis has been kept in the dark about it, though. All of us agreed that he'd probably tell Harry if he knew; he's too level-headed to keep this a secret.
