Assassin's Asylum ✔

29

Harry was driving back home when his phone rang. He picked it up and checked the caller ID. It was Payne. Harry had had a long day, interviewing some prostitutes and he was exhausted so the idea of not answering crossed his mind but eventually he pressed the green button.

"Hi."

"Hi, where are you?" Payne asked.

"Driving so talk fast."

"I just got back to the office", said Payne. "I was interviewing some of the byers like we agreed and you don't believe what I got--"

"Liam", Harry interrupted. "As much as I would love to hear all about it, I'm really exhausted and I need to focus on driving. Could we talk about this tomorrow, please?"

"Oh, right, right. Sorry. Of course we can. Drive safely."

"Bye." Harry hang up and concentrated on the road again. God, he was really tired. He couldn't wait to just get in the bed and sleep. Unfortunately he still had to drive like fifteen minutes until he would be at home. Then the clock would be already so much that he had only six hours to sleep until he would have to get up and go to work again.

"My days are way too long", he muttered to himself.

Eventually he made it back home. He parked his car and then climbed the stairs on the third floor. But when he got to his door he stopped in place and frowned.

The door was open.

Harry leaned closer and examined the lock. Yep, someone had broke into his home. For a moment he wondered whether or not he should go inside but finally he decided he should at least check it.

He stepped inside and winced. The whole place was trashed. His stuff was al over the place. Clearly whatever the intruders had been looking for they hadn't found it. Was someone seriously this much against the article they were writing or what the fuck was going on?

Harry left the apartment and called the police, telling them about the break in. They said they can't do much since nothing had been stolen but they'll send someone check the place and that Harry should file a crime report.

"Thank you", Harry said to the phone. "I'll be waiting here."

It took twenty minutes but finally to officers came. While they examined the door and checked the apartment, Harry stood in the hallway.

One of the polices came to Harry and asked, "Are you sure nothing's being stolen?"

Harry shrugged and was about to answer when suddenly he realised what had been in the apartment. The birthday card from Red Machete.

"Hold on", Harry said and went inside the apartment. The card wasn't on the desk where he had left it and he tried to search everywhere but couldn't find the goddamn card anywhere.

"Shit", Harry muttered.

"Something missing?" the officer asked behind Harry.

What was Harry supposed to say? He couldn't tell them that he had got a birthday card from the most wanted assassin and that that card was now missing.

"No, nothing", Harry lied. "Everything's here."

When the polices left and Harry had filed the crime report he packed some of his stuff and left the apartment. He didn't feel safe there.

He couldn't go to the office either because everyone knew where it was and if someone was looking for Harry they'd easily find him there. So, once again, he decided to go to a motel. Just like last year.

***

Grimshaw wasn't expecting good news when Plague's men came back from their trip. He didn't expect them to bring him Harry Styles or Louis Tomlinson. They hadn't done that before, why would they succeed now?

So, imagine his surprise when the men actually had something when they walked through the door and greeted Grimshaw and Plague and said that they got something.

"What did you get?"

One of the men handed the card to Grimshaw. "It's from Styles' apartment."

Grimshaw read the card, turned it around and his eyes widened. "That motherfucker send Styles a birthday card?"

The man nodded. "I think we shouldn't kidnap Styles just yet."

Grimshaw frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean", said the man, "that we should just keep an eye out for a moment, in case Red Machete makes more attempts to contact Styles. If it seems like he's not going to see Styles, we just take Styles and lure him out of his hiding place since he clearly has a thing for Styles."

"Yes, clearly", muttered Plague. "I can't believe that our assassin is sending birthday cards."

"He's not ours", said Grimshaw. "But I see the point here. We should definitely back off and just observe from distance for a while. But if it seems like waste of time I want you to bring me Harry Styles. When he have him, I'm sure Red Machete will come out of his hiding place." Grimshaw wiggled the card in the air. "This proves it."

"Should we start listening Styles' phone again?" Plague asked.

"Of course!" Grimshaw yelled. "I thought you had been doing it all along!"

"No...", one of Plague's men said.

"Well, for fuck's sake, start immediately!"

Plague glared at his men. "You heard him."

The men left and Plague and Grimshaw were alone.

"Jeez", Grimshaw said.

"They're getting sloppy, I admit that", Plague sighed. "It's hard to find good workers nowadays."

"Tell me about it."

They were silent for a moment.

"By the way", said Plague suddenly. "Where should we go when they bring Styles in eventually?"

"I have a perfect place in my mind", Grimshaw said vaguely.

"Care to elaborate?"

"Remember that warehouse in the middle of nowhere where we had the first meeting with Red Machete? When we told him we knew his name and owned him?"

"Aka the worst day of his life?"

"Exactly."

"You want to go there?" Plague asked, confused. "Why?"

"Because when we use Styles to lure Tomlinson out, we need to be some place which he can recognize", Grimshaw said matter-of-factly.