Blacklist [h.s]

three

Grace

Harry wasn't lying. Within an hour of our conversation in the cold confinements of the black sight, Kurt Weber had picked up the General's daughter from soccer practice and they were quickly heading out of the city. And here I was again, hours later in front of this fucking smirky British boy trying to figure out why he was here and why he turned himself in.

"How was lunch Gracey?" he asked, cocking his head to the side as I walk back into the warehouse. I can't help but roll my eyes at him, his comment, the nickname.

"How did you know that Weber was going to take that little girl?"

He looks up at me, not wavering under the fact I'm practically in his face now. "I'm the one who got him into the country," he said flatly.

I was growing increasingly frustrated by the minute with him. I take a step back, my hands on my hips as I look at him.

I was trying to figure out clues on him. Nervous ticks, facial expressions, and their meanings, but all he was was stone cold. He was so hard to read, even for me.

"And what do they want with the little girl?" Agent Cooper's voice bellows behind me. His voice is much stronger and more convincible than mine. Harry looks beyond me in confusion, cocking his head. He wasn't going to speak to Cooper, I knew because he looked me in the eyes to answer.

"That's all I know." He smiles at me.

"What do you want, Styles?" Cooper asked. "What is in it for you?"

Harry rolls his eyes, shakes the curls from his forehead, and takes a deep breath. "Owen, may I remind you of my initial request? I speak with Agent Tyler."

He is undoubtedly annoyed, both Harry and Cooper.

I look back at Agent Cooper and he nods, pointing to his ear to remind me that I can hear them in my headset. I felt like I was actually doing something right for once. Or maybe Harry was letting me think that to gain my trust and get under my skin. I nod at Cooper, letting him know that I understood his silent communication before I turn back to Harry, repeating the same question that Cooper posed. Harry smiles.

"Immunity," he says calmly. "In exchange for names. On my terms."

A deafening no sounds in my ear from Cooper before I can even respond to the ridiculous request. I scrunch my face up at the noise. He must know that we won't give him immunity, he can't be that stupid.

"Absolutely not." I cross my arms over my chest. "You're mad."

He laughs again, sending shivers down my spine. "Very well." His eyes advert down to my hands and he raises his eyebrow.

I turn around and storm out of the giant openness of the warehouse. Suddenly it felt suffocating in here. I don't know why I felt so attached to the girl and her death that may or may not happen. Perhaps, it's because I held too much empathy for people I don't know. Perhaps because she's only 7 years old, someone's daughter, and she has so much left to do in this world.

I can't imagine her father never being able to see her walk at graduation in her cap and gown, her never knowing how to open a locker in middle school or graduate or get her heart broken or actually live.

Harry could be leading us down a dead-end road, on a fucking rabbit chase for all we know. But somehow, if for some reason he wasn't lying, I wanted to take a chance to save this girl. Because I wouldn't be able to live with myself if we didn't. I run my hands over my face in defeat and push the door open to Cooper's office. Everyone is looking at me through the giant window before I'm through the door.