Assassin's Asylum ✔

7

Against all the expectations, Harry got to the window, sighing in relief when the overhang was now bigger, giving him a possibility to squat down and peek through the window. The room was empty but it was definitely part of BBC's V.I.P section. Furniture and alcohol gave it out. Harry tried to open the window but it wouldn't move.

"Oh, come on", he sighed, trying to open it one more time but it didn't open. For a moment Harry thought about breaking it with his fist because he had to get inside and find Grimshaw but he decided not to, it would've caused too much noise, not even mentioning what it would do to his hand.

Suddenly the door opened, and Harry quickly leaned back so that no one could see him. He kept his hands firmly against the wall, hoping that he wouldn't fall. He heard talking and walking and then someone passed the window, their shadow making Harry squeeze closer to the wall. When the shadow disappeared, Harry leaned as close to the window as possible and carefully peeked inside.

First he saw Grimshaw, standing near the door with crossed arms and serious face. A few meters away was Troy Jackson with his steroid-pumped body and bald head, cigarette in his other hand and a beer bottle in the other. Harry couldn't believe his luck, that he had actually managed to get behind the right window. And now he was in the box seat, able to see everything and hopefully hear anything. Now he only needed to get pictures and or videos- proofs that Grimshaw was associating with London's underworld big noise.

Harry moved slowly and quietly away from the window and started digging his pockets, trying to find his mini camera but then he heard Grimshaw's voice and stopped in place.

"I'm so fucking screwed", Grimshaw said. "How could you mess up like that?"

Mess up what? Harry held his breath, listening. He didn't dare to peek through the window because he feared the men inside might see him so he decided to be quiet and just listen.

"Chill out, dude", said Jackson, his rough voice sounding very uninterested about the topic, "you're barking at the wrong tree here-- It wasn't my fault."

"I told you to get rid of both of the Chapmans!" Grimshaw almost yelled and Harry placed his hand on his mouth, trying not to yell. He quickly continued looking for his mini camera and finally found it, turning it on. "But what do I see all over the news? That the little noisy motherfucker wife is still out there somewhere!"

"Calm the fuck down, Grimshaw", said Jackson. "I'll fix this."

"Damn right you will! I didn't pay you and your little killer machine for screwing things up!"

Harry's heart started beating faster. Killer machine... It had to mean Red Machete, Harry couldn't think anyone else. If it really was Red Machete they were talking about... Two birds with one stone indeed. This was more than he had hoped for. Harry had stayed in the same position so long that his legs were starting to fell asleep and he knew he should move because he was literally playing with his life and it was getting really dark and the possibility to fell on the ground was higher every passing minute.

"I called Red Machete as you wished", Jackson said and then Harry heard how someone slammed a door shut. "Speak of the devil."

Without thinking, Harry leaned closer, peeking inside the room and he saw him. Red Machete. The assassin was covered in black clothes, a black scarf covering half of his face, leaving only ice cold blue eyes for Harry to see. He was smaller than Harry had expected and even more intimidating than he had feared. He had hoped that he would get proofs against Grimshaw and Jackson but this was something so much better, now he could link Red Machete to them both.

Harry felt so satisfied because he had been right; Grimshaw was the one controlling Red Machete. Yes, through Jackson, but still. The thing that interested Harry the most was how the hell was Jackson controlling Red Machete.

"Come on then", said Jackson, letting out a laugh, "you don't need to hide your face in here, you know that it's no use anymore."

Red Machete just glared at Jackson, staying completely still. Harry felt how his heart beat faster and he waited what would happen next. If Red Machete doesn't have to hide his face in front of Jackson, it could only mean one thing; Jackson knew his identity. How did that happen? Harry wanted answers, even though Red Machete wasn't really the first priority, he was still a major threat to people in London and Harry couldn't just ignore that.

Grimshaw turned to look at Red Machete, pointing at him.

"You fucked up."

He didn't get an answer, only a cold blue stare.

"What went wrong?" asked Jackson, lighting another cigarette.

"They surprised me", said Red Machete, his voice sounding way too light to match his appearance.

"They surprised you", Grimshaw repeated, shaking his head. "Fucking hell! I thought it was impossible to surprise you? Do you understand that I can't let that woman ran around, not when she knows what she knows." Grimshaw stepped closer, pointing at Red Machete again. "You need to find her." When Red Machete just narrowed his eyes and gave a tiny nod, Grimshaw groaned, walking around the room. "Don't you realize how bad this is? I'm stealing money from the fucking parliament, I'm doing business with a fucking drug dealer, no offense, Plague, and believe me, Red Machete, if my secrets come out, hiring you is the least of my problems!"

Without even noticing, Harry had leaned closer to the window, lifting his camera more up, getting everything. If either one of the men inside would look towards the window, they would see Harry easily but Harry was too excited to realize that.

"Not to mention how deep in shit I will be", said Jackson and raised an eyebrow at Red Machete. "And you too, so get the hell out of here and do your fucking job!"

Everything happened so fast. Harry tried to move away from the window, but his legs were dead, so he fell straight towards the window, causing it to make a loud noise. He accidentally pressed some button that made the camera let out a bright flash and all three heads in the room turned to stare at Harry.

For a moment everything was completely frozen, they all staring at Harry who was unable to move. Then Jackson yelled, "Get him!" and Red Machete threw his machete towards the window with such a power that it broke the glass and Harry leaned back, forgot that there was nothing behind him and started falling towards the ground.