Legendary // H.S

69.

He's a good man. I've always known that, but the first thing he wanted to do after the ambush was to help whoever was left behind. Some of the team that weren't attacked have since left, meaning a handful remained, but even those have been given support in case they need it. Every day, he proves to himself how unlike his father he is. Steven was a devil, and Harry is a saint. My saint, sent to save me.

As we enter the building, we nod to the few people there, the whole of the core team present. George and Louis sit together, the former typing away on his laptop and the latter mapping out some documents. Niall is joking around with one of the new workers, a woman that he's clearly intending to sleep with, and Zayn and Babz stand near the building stations.

We motion Babz to join us, her feet sounding on the metal staircase as we make our way upstairs. Harry holds the door open for her, locking it once we're inside. I lean near one of the bookcases, Harry against the desk and Babz sitting in one of the chairs, her legs crossed.

There are a few beats of silence among us, as if we're all too afraid to even speak about something that could destroy us if leaked. There's a certain kind of paranoia that seems to have emerged in every interaction. A hysteria worthy of the sixteenth century witch hunts while fear swept across Europe. Harry and I are the witchfinders, desperate to clear the land of demonic plagues, while the team are the victims of our inquisition. Perhaps it is wrong of us to point so many fingers, but the cause is a worthy one.

'So, what's all this about?' Babz asks, kicking her feet up to rest on the desk next to Harry.

He immediately pushes them off the surface, shaking his head at her. I catch his eyes for a moment and give him a small nod. 'The heist is going ahead as planned. Sooner than we anticipated,' he tells her, his face stern and gaze intense.

She leans forward, elbows resting on her thighs. 'How soon?' she presses, interest peaking at her features. Wide eyes, mouth age, foot tapping. All signs of attention.

He sighs, letting his hand scratch at his jaw. 'I'd estimate a couple of months. Probably less. Need to finalise the logistics, and then it can happen.'

She furrows her brows at this, turning to me in question. 'How comes it's being moved up?'

Before I can answer, Harry jumps in, clearing his throat. 'There's no point delaying it, especially with everything that's going on. In and out, as soon as possible so we can be done with this mess and move on to the next one.'

Again, she lets her gaze fall to my figure, my hands fiddling with one of the paper weights that sat on the bookcase. 'You've made all the diamonds? You didn't even know how to last week. What's changed?'

I stand up straighter and place the ornament back on the shelf. 'We've uncovered something that can help.'

'Is that all you're going to tell me?' she asks, but we don't answer. 'Jesus, I've already proven that I'm not the mole, nor am I telling Zayn about any conversations we have in private. Do you understand how fucked up that is for us? We don't keep secrets. So, make it worth my while, or I'm done with this whole operation.'

I turn to Harry, breathing slowly as I accept her words. She's the one that's sacrificing the most out of us, and she doesn't even know the half of it. In a perfect world, we'd be able to tell her about the diamonds, my father's journals, Steven's journals, even the origin of Hugo's hatred towards me, but we can't be sure yet. It's not safe.

'Look, we have the diamonds. They're ready to go. Atlas will continue practicing the technique of dislodging them and replacing them, and you and I will join her. We'll be the three that goes in to do it. Atlas will do three, I'll do three, you do two. 8 in total, and then we're out. We need to get it down to a routine, and fast. If we're too slow we'll be caught before we even make it out of the room,' he explains, crossing his arms over his chest.