Assassin's Asylum ✔

11

Harry, Payne and Malik arrived to Harry's apartment with two cops. When they had went to the police station, the polices, as expected, wanted to see Harry's apartment and damages before agreeing on giving protection.

They stood behind Harry's door and the older police opened it, raising an eyebrow to Harry. "It's not locked."

"Didn't really have time for that", said Harry. The police man gave him a look but didn't say anything. They stepped inside and after changing quick looks with Malik and Payne, Harry followed them inside. He didn't bother to tell them where his bedroom was- the apartment wasn't big enough for the police men to get confused.

The polices walked around, eyeing everything carefully. Harry did too and frowned when he noticed something.

Everything was okay. No signs of wrestling. Nothing. His bed was like new. Everything was in order and the polices turned to look at Harry questioningly.

"Is anything missing?"

Harry looked around. He saw his phone and wallet on the table. He checked them and walked a bit around.

"I... don't think so."

When he saw the looks on the police men faces Harry knew he wouldn't get any help from the police. He scoffed, shaking his head. Grimshaw was clever, Harry had to give him that. The guy really knew how to cover his tracks. Or how to make his assassin cover his tracks.

"I think we're done here", the younger police man said.

"What?" Payne exclaimed. "You can't just ignore this!"

"Can't you see what's happening here?" added Malik.

Harry shook his head to his friends.

"Forget it, guys."

"I think this is just a normal break-in", said the older police, shrugging. "There's nothing we can't do. Nothing's missing, no clues, nothing. Sorry."

"Thanks", Harry muttered.

When the officers went away, Harry took his phone and wallet, put them in his pocket and sighed loudly.

"So we're alone."

"Those fucking worthless assholes", muttered Payne through his teeth.

Harry shrugged.

"We tried." He looked around. "C'mon, help me pack some things, I can't stay here."

"What are you going to do?" asked Malik.

"Sleep in different motels. Use fake name. Pay with cash." Harry shrugged again. "Just keep a low profile and try to catch Grimshaw before his assassin catches me."

"So no pressure."

"Let's get your things and get out of here", said Payne.

They packed some clothes to Harry and then left. Harry sat on the backseat and looked at his phone. "I think I shouldn't use this."

"You're right, you shouldn't", said Malik, slowing down on traffic lights.

"Neither should we", Payne pointed out.

Harry looked out of the window, thinking.

"We should go get prepaids and then you can drop me off somewhere. Don't use the car after this, prefer walking."

The lads agreed with him. For now they all just wanted to figure out an operating system to stay alive and after that they could try to think what to do next with their magazine, Grimshaw and everything else.

"If our company flops because of this, I'll do something very stupid and very bad", Malik said out of no where but Harry could see his point. By now it seemed impossible to get their next number ready on time.

"I don't think that's our biggest problem", said Payne.

"Either our magazine flops or we figure this out and write a killer article and get even more popular", said Harry. "There's no in between."

After that they drove in silence. Harry picked up cash, they got their prepaids, changed numbers and then Harry said goodbye to them, told them to be careful and watched as they drove away.

For the next few nights Harry slept in different motels, never telling his real name and trying to hide his face as unsuspiciously as possible. But no one seemed to be after him. That didn't make him feel any better, though, which is why he had a knife close to him every night. He, Payne and Malik didn't contact each other, they had decided it was better if they just laid low for a while.

On Harry's third night in some random hotel he was woken up by a knock on his door. Harry frowned and checked the time. It was two in the morning. Part of him was scared that it'd be Red Machete or something equally bad but the rational part of him knew that the assassin wouldn't knock on his door. So who could it be? No one knew where he was.

Harry pulled clothes on, took his knife and slowly walked to the door. He heard the knock again and he slowly leaned in, looking through the eyehole. All he saw was darkness. He took a step back, put the lights on and swung the door open.

The light from room revealed the person standing in front of him and Harry recognized the person immediately. He lowered his hand which was holding the knife and frowned in confusion.

"Marina Chapman?"