Piper was out of the restaurant quick as a flash, searching the streets in both directions for something — anything — that would give them a clue as to where those documents had gone. The postman was no where in sight and neither was Petrucelli. The street on either side of the restaurant was quiet and quaint, with no sign of anything at all amiss. If the street looked anything like how Piper was feeling right then, it would have been ripped up all down the middle, cars flung about and buildings crumbling to the ground. Turmoil and utter chaos.
She had to stop in the middle of the road and hunch over because suddenly she could barely catch her breath with the huge pressure pushing down on her chest. She propped her hands on her knees and dropped her head, her hair falling in a tumble down over her shoulders to block her view. With her eyes pressed tightly shut, she tried her best to get a grip on this overwhelming dread that was filling her entire body.
They'd failed and now there was a good chance that a whole shipment of illegal weapons was going to find its way into the UK with no way of stopping it. One thing — they'd only had one thing to do. And they'd failed. She failed.
She couldn't help but think that this was all her fault. She should have been watching closer and paying attention to what Petrucelli was doing. Maybe if she hadn't been drinking her wine and laughing with her boyfriend, she would have seen him getting to his feet sooner and she could have jumped into action and grabbed those documents. It was her responsibility to watch him. Harry had been counting on her to do her best.
She'd fucked it up so badly.
"Piper!"
She craned around at the sound of Harry's voice. He was standing in the doorway of the restaurant and he waved her over when he caught sight of her. She lumbered upright, trying to make it seem like she wasn't struggling to keep breathing or like she wasn't on the verge of messy tears.
"I've spoken with Louis," Harry explained as she stopped by his side. He took her by the elbow and led her away from the restaurant and toward the main road. "The postman's name is Gary Holt and he's booked on a flight back to London at 11:00. We have to assume that the person who took the documents is going to try to get them to Holt."
"What if he's not involved any longer?"
Harry's lips pursed and she felt bad for bringing it up. Obviously he'd had the same thought and he wasn't pleased with being reminded of how completely off the rails this mission had become. "There's a possibility that someone new is involved but we don't have time to figure out who. Holt is our best lead right now so we'll follow it."
He fell silent after that and Piper did the same, not wanting to make Harry angry. He was frustrated with the entire situation — that was clear in the way he set his shoulders and tensed his jaw. It just made that sinking feeling in Piper's stomach even worse.
Once they were on the main road, Harry stuck two fingers in his mouth, letting out a high shrill whistle. Within ten seconds, a taxi was pulling up to where they were standing and Harry held the door open for Piper as he ushered her in. He simply said "airport" to the driver before he was on his transmitter, typing frantically as he exchanged information with Louis.
The silence between them gave her time with her thoughts which was never a good thing. Her thoughts were a scary place. She found herself reviewing the scene at the restaurant over and over again, wondering where they had gone wrong. Every single time, the blame fell onto her.
She had no doubt in her mind that if Harry was there alone, if she hadn't been there distracting him, then none of this would have happened. He would have been vigilant, he would have noticed Petrucelli acting out of character, and he would have swooped in and grabbed those documents the second they were unattended. She was a burden to him and she should never have agreed to come.
"I'm sorry."
Harry's head jerked up, his attention shifting from his transmitter over to Piper. There was a confused frown on his face and it took him a second to put together what she'd said. "What do you mean, I'm sorry? For what?"
"This was all my fault," she mumbled, fidgeting her fingers in her lap so she had somewhere to look other than at Harry. Because she knew what she would see on his face — she'd see pity. She didn't think she could handle that right now.
"It's not your fault."
"'Course it is."
She jumped when Harry's hand landed firmly on her shoulder, forcing her to turn in her seat. His hands cupped her cheeks and he forced her to look at him. His green eyes were blazing as they caught hers. "Listen to me, Piper. This was not your fault."
"But it was," she countered. "I was supposed to be watching Petrucelli and when he left I just sat there like an idiot and I wasn't watching the table and if I had maybe I would have seen the person who took the documents —"
"That's a lot of ifs and maybes," Harry cut in, a pointed tone to his voice. "And usually that means that something is pretty much out of your control. This wasn't on you, Piper. Petrucelli didn't follow the protocol that you overheard so there was no way of either of us anticipating this."
"Maybe I heard wrong at lunch. Maybe he made a whole bunch of different arrangements and I just wrote them all wrong and my Italian was shit and I fucked this whole thing up."
"Piper, I don't want to hear you say that again," he said sternly. "You didn't do this. This wasn't your fault. And blaming yourself is only going to drag you down. Now, we've got a whole lot of work ahead of us tonight and we need to be at our best. So stop thinking about this and get your head in the game."
He didn't give her a chance to say anything else, just let her go and sat back in his seat. His attention was immediately back on his transmitter and Piper knew that his was the last word.
The problem was that his advice to stop thinking about it was impossible for her to follow. He should have known better than that. She was a master at getting lost in her thoughts, at rehashing minute details of everything, and her brain didn't miss a thing. There was no way she could shut that down and try to focus on what was ahead.
She spent the rest of the taxi ride replaying over and over every single thing that she'd done wrong.
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
While it was nowhere near as large as Heathrow, the airport outside of Trieste was just as busy as Heathrow would have been. It was late on a Sunday night and the last flights across the continent were leaving over the next couple of hours so there were plenty of people milling about, heading home from weekend getaways.
Piper could tell that Harry was on edge the moment he caught sight of the crowds as they walked through the doors. It was going to make tracking the postman down a lot more difficult than they'd anticipated. The urgency of their task was clear in the set of Harry's shoulders. Gone was the easy going man she'd had dinner with less than an hour before, replaced with the controlled, collected spy who had his work cut out for him. There were no gentle touches, no hand holding or palms pressed against the small of her back — instead, Harry inclined his head toward the security desks and then took off, leaving Piper to follow.
She stood to the side as Harry flashed his MI6 ID and then explained the situation to head of security. She wasn't sure of what to do having never done any of this before so all she could do was keep out of the way as Harry interfaced with security and then spoke on the phone with someone from AISI — the Italian domestic intelligence service. When security guided them through the security checkpoint, Piper just followed along, having to jog to keep up with the group of men walking briskly through the airport toward the gates.
The feeling of dread that she'd first gotten in the briefing, that feeling of not being good enough, was rearing it's ugly head until Piper's steps were faltering beneath her and she had to stop walking altogether. Harry seemed to notice because he slowed to a stop, saying a couple of dismissive words to the security guards who turned to leave. When they'd gotten far enough, Harry walked back toward Piper with concern clear in his features.
"Holt is supposed to be at gate 23," he was saying as he came to a stop in front of her, "and the flight's been delayed which works in our favour for sure." He watched her for a moment and then his hands came to rest on her arms, holding on securely in a way that made her heart melt but her stomach twist. "Is something wrong, petal?"
"You should go without me," she managed to croak out.
"Go without you? Why?"
"I'm a burden, Harry," she told him, her eyes staying trained on the front of his shirt. She hated the way her voice quivered and cleared her throat uncomfortably. "I'm just going to get in the way."
"No, Piper, you're not a burden. Why would you think that?"
"I haven't done anything right on this mission." She was horrified to feel tears pressing at her eyes. Lifting her hands, she dug the heels of her hands into her eyes to try and make it stop. "Listen, this isn't even about me. It's about the fact that you need to get these documents or a lot of bad things could happen. I don't want you worrying about me when I can't keep up when you should be focused on what you're doing."
His jaw was tight when she finally looked up but his eyes were soft and sympathetic. For a moment, she thought he was going to argue with her on this but he just nodded instead. "Okay, you wait here and keep an eye out alright? I'll go ahead and see if I can catch Holt."
She was sort of relieved that Harry had agreed with her. Sure, some part of her wanted him to stay and reassure her, and convince her that she'd done a good job and she had nothing to worry about. There were more important things going on though and, first and foremost, Harry was a spy. He had duties and obligations. Right now, she had to put her own insecurities on the back burner so Harry could focus and clean up the mess she'd made.
"I'm, um, I'm going to call Louis and get him to switch my earpiece so it's connected to your transmitter instead. That way if you need me I can get to you."
Harry's lips tugged up into that familiar fond smile and that helped a little bit with the guilt and anxiety churning away in her stomach. "That's a great idea, petal. You sure you'll be okay here?"
"Sure," she said as she forced on the best smile she could muster — not very convincing, judging by the way Harry scrunched his nose up unhappily. "Be careful, okay?"
"Always." Harry ducked down to kiss her gently and then stepped back. "I'll see you soon."
She gave him a mock salute that made him grin and then he was blending in with the people, only emerging in her sight every so often when his tall frame towered over the masses. It was only when she could no longer catch sight of him that she turned away, heading for the nearby coffee shop and taking a seat at a table close to the very edge of the shop. She didn't want to be overheard on the call she was about to make.
There was an app for a flower shop on her phone and that was the first thing she pressed when she'd unlocked it. The app opened and redirected so that it made an automatic call. A moment later, a pleasant voice greeted Piper. "Smith-Cumming flower shop. Have you shopped with us before?"
"I'm a frequent customer," Piper replied, as per the script that had been ingrained in their heads since the first day of recruit training.
"And what is your customer card number?"
She recited her ID number from her MI6 badge, reading out the 12-digit string of numbers with ease. She'd always had a good memory for those sorts of things, numbers and names. She rarely stored numbers in her phone, choosing instead to rely on her memory.
"How can we be of service today?" the woman asked after a moment had gone by, during which Piper assumed they were authorizing her ID number.
"I'd like to place an order for a delivery. A bouquet of peonies if they're in season."
There was a long pause and then the pleasant voice was back. "We'll redirect you to a secure line. Thank you, Agent Stone."
"Thank you," she repeated back as the line disconnected. There were three short beeps and then a dial tone and Piper knew she'd been transferred to the new line. She dialled Louis's mobile quickly and it connected within seconds.
"Hiya Pips. How's Italy? Have you and Harry been making the most of your time?"
"You're gross, Louis."
"Charming as always," Louis mumbled and Piper could picture perfectly the way he was probably rolling his eyes. "So, to what do I owe this pleasure? Did you and Harry get the documents already?"
"Harry's working on it."
"What's wrong?" Louis said in a resigned sort of way.
"Nothing. Who said anything was wrong?"
"You're doing the thing."
"What thing?"
"The thing!" Piper rolled her eyes and was sorely tempted to hang up but she needed Louis to do something for her and she didn't want to go through the hassle of getting another secure line set up. "You might as well just tell me," Louis added, "because if you don't I'll just pester you until you get fed up with me."
Piper sighed heavily, sinking forward so her elbow was propped on the table, her fingers digging into her forehead as she held her head up. "I really screwed this one up, Louis."
"Did you kill anyone?"
"No!" she snapped back, offended he had even asked.
"Did you blow anything up?"
"No, what kind of disaster do you think I am?"
"Well, if you haven't blown anything up, then you're already off to a better start than I was on my first field mission."
That made her pause, rubbing her fingers over her forehead where a headache was beginning to form. "What do you mean?"
Louis was already laughing as if the story was so ridiculous that the simple memory of it was too much to handle. She held the phone away from her ear until he could manage to make full words instead of dissolving into undignified guffaws every time he opened his mouth.
"The first time I was on a field mission, I'd been working with Harry for about a month and despite the fact that we got along fine normally, we couldn't stop bickering when I was supposed to be guiding him in the field. El decided to send me along on a mission with Harry to see if that would help. We were in North Korea, getting classified government intel to bring back with us, and we met up with the 5SOS lads in this tiny abandoned shop near the government buildings.
"I was being my usual arrogant self — hey, you're not supposed to agree!" he added when Piper snorted a laugh. "Long story short, I stuck the wrong cable into my laptop, the whole thing overheated, caught fire and then exploded. All of us were nearly arrested by the North Korean police and the only reason I'm still sitting here is because Harry saved my arse."
Some part of her wanted to be surprised by this story but then again, this was Louis they were talking about and Louis had this uncanny ability to make the impossible possible. "Sounds like something you would do."
"Well, if I got through that, then I'm sure whatever you did isn't that bad."
"We lost the documents because of me," Piper grumbled, letting her head sink down so her hand was pressed over her eyes, blocking out the sights around her. She exhaled slowly and cringed when her breath shook uncontrollably. "Now Harry has to try and get them back or everything is going to be fucked."
"It wasn't your fault."
"How would you know? You weren't there Louis!" Piper snapped at him before remembering where she was and lowering her voice to a displeased hiss. "I was supposed to be watching our target and I let myself get distracted. Someone snatched the documents right under my nose."
"Both of your noses," Louis corrected. "Harry was there too."
"But he wasn't supposed to be watching Petrucelli. I was."
"That's right. You were supposed to be watching Petrucelli. And Harry was supposed to be watching you." That made Piper pause, her brow furrowing as she tried to add up what Louis was saying and make some sense of it. "He's the senior agent. It's his job to make sure the mission goes smoothly. You're still learning, Piper, and it's expected you'll make some mistakes. It's Harry's job to fix them."
"I just feel bad —"
"Well, don't," Louis interrupted shortly in a way that was so characteristically Louis that she couldn't even be mad at him for it. "You always think too hard about these things. The fact of the matter is that you're in a job that's really demanding and often relies on a lot of little things fitting into place perfectly. Inevitably, things are going to go wrong and most of the time it won't be your fault. If you take it personally every time, you're not going to be able to do what needs to be done."
Louis had basically described exactly what had happened — Piper getting beaten down by her own insecurities until she'd been forced to leave Harry to do the hard work on his own — and immediately she felt guilty. It was a hard pill to swallow but Louis was absolutely right. She couldn't take on the responsibility of everything that went wrong or she'd never be able to do her job again.
"That was actually pretty helpful."
"I can't take credit, unfortunately. It's what Harry told me the first time I fucked up big on a mission. You know, sometimes he actually says things that make sense." Louis chuckled a bit at his own joke and then his voice evened out, taking on a more serious tone. "I'm surprised he didn't tell you that himself."
"He did, sort of," Piper admitted sheepishly because it was pretty much what he'd said in the taxi. "I think, sometimes, I just assume he says these things because we're together, you know? Like he's just trying to appease me."
"Harry isn't like that."
"I know," Piper agreed with a sigh. "I'm just really stupid sometimes."
"Nah, just needed a kick in the arse from your old pal Lou. You know you can trust my opinion because I'm not influenced by the way you toss your pretty red hair over your shoulder or shake your —"
"Louis!"
"Right, sorry. Was there something else you needed? Or should I just shut up and go away?"
"Yeah, actually, there was something." Piper explained the situation with the earpieces and then listened to Louis's fragmented speech while he went about tracking the signal for her earpiece and connecting it with Harry's.
"Alright, you should be hearing something now."
Sure enough, a hum of sound echoed in her ear and she could hear what sounded like breathing, slow and steady. Definitely Harry. "Yeah, I'm patched in."
"Good. It'll take me a bit longer to get your earpiece transmitting. Give me five minutes and I'll have it up and working."
"That's great."
"Are you sure you're going to be alright?"
Piper smiled to herself, appreciating Louis's concern. He wasn't the type to be overly concerned just for the sake of sympathy so it felt genuine when he asked after her. "I'm better now. Thanks Louis."
"Well, good luck then." His voice was positive and more buoyant than it usually was and Piper knew he was doing it for her sake. "Remember, we all believe in you. You're doing great, alright?"
"Shut up," Piper mumbled, forcing herself to take a deep breath. "You're going to make me cry."
"Hopeless," was all Louis said before he was gone, the dial tone replacing him in her ear. She hung up the call, tucking her phone away once more and sitting back in her chair. She was able to hear if Harry needed anything from her so until he asked for her, all she could do was sit and wait.
Leaning back in her seat, Piper let out a long sigh and glanced around. She wondered how Harry was doing, whether he'd intercepted Holt yet. Everything had been quiet over the transmission so she had no idea what was going on with him. She was getting antsy waiting for information, her leg tapping a frantic rhythm on the ground. It was a small airport — it shouldn't take this long to get to the gate. Five more minutes and she was going after him.
She thought her eyes had tricked her for a moment when someone in the crowd captured her attention. He was standing by the newsstand across the way and was turned away from her, facing one of the racks of magazines. She could only see his profile but something about him wouldn't leave her alone and her brain was screaming at her to pay attention while it searched her memory for the reason why.
He glanced over his shoulder, a brief turn of his head, and she nearly jumped right out of her chair as she finally recognized him.
The waiter from the restaurant.
It could be a coincidence but something told her it wasn't. What were the chances that the waiter who had distracted them when Petrucelli was leaving the restaurant also happened to be taking a flight that night? She was guessing pretty slim.
Harry had always told her that she had good instincts and her gut was telling her that the waiter was up to no good. She watched him like a hawk as he looked around suspiciously and then stepped into the newsstand. When he moved out of sight, she sat forward to try and see if she could get him in her sights again.
"Harry," she said at normal volume, hoping that her earpiece was set up properly now. "Can you hear me?"
"Yeah, petal, I can."
"Something strange is going on."
"You're telling me," he said with a scoff, sounding incredibly annoyed. "The flight Holt is supposed to be on was cancelled and there's no one at the gate so I officially have no idea what the fuck is going on."
"I think I might have an idea."
"What?" Harry asked hurriedly, his serious tone making Piper sit up straighter in her seat on instinct.
"That waiter from dinner? He's here. He just ducked into a newsstand across from me and he was acting really nervous and squirrelly beforehand."
"Nervous like he was holding documents that could get him arrested?"
"Yep. That about sums it up." She ducked down a bit as he reemerged from within the newsstand, wearing some sort of security outfit that looked quite similar to the ones worn by official airport security. Under his arm, he was holding a familiar looking manila envelope. "He's just come out wearing a security uniform and he has the documents for sure."
"You have eyes on them?"
"Definitely. He's holding them under his arm." She watched him carefully as he sauntered across the big open space before the hall to the gates forked off in either direction. He was trying his very best to look nonchalant but Piper could read his wariness in the uncomfortable set of his shoulders and his awkward gait. He was most definitely up to something.
"We have to assume he was the one who was actually sent to pick up those documents and that a secondary drop is going to be happening somewhere in this airport."
Piper could feel a vibration of energy under her skin as her heart picked up speed in her chest. This felt too real, more real than sitting in the caffè had felt. Her senses felt hyperaware, like every sound and smell in the airport lounge was amped up. Her vision narrowed in on the waiter as he slowly made his way across the big lobby.
"What should I do?" she asked Harry, who knew better than her what a situation like this called for.
"Follow him. Don't let him out of your sight."
She was up on her feet immediately, crossing to the exit of the little open coffee shop and walking across the lobby toward where she'd seen the waiter disappear. It was easy to keep an eye on him because of the security uniform so she was okay to fall back a couple of steps and follow him more covertly.
They'd covered this in recruit training but she'd had little opportunity to practice this and while Harry and Liam had given her excellent lessons on this very thing, it was different to actually be tailing someone. She had to catch herself every so often when she went too close or stood out too much from the rest of people milling around. Following someone was harder than it looked, especially when the waiter kept tilting his head side to side as if he was anticipating someone at his back.
"Where are you, petal?" Harry asked her once they'd gotten a bit of the way down one of the hallways. She glanced around, looking for something that would give away their location.
"Gate 23."
"Shit. That's the other side of the airport. It'll take me too long to catch up with you."
She'd been working under the impression that Harry was going to step in and take her place because he was much more experienced at all of this proper spy stuff. It made her a little nervous that she was going to have to do it on her own. "What do I do?"
"Keep him in your sights but don't get too close. Ditch your jacket and put your hair up — whatever you can to make yourself less noticeable." Piper was already veering over to the nearest garbage bins, stripping out of her coat as she kept her eyes on the waiter's retreating back. She took a spare hair elastic from one of the pockets, her phone from the other, and then dumped the whole thing into the bin.
"Coat's gone," she told Harry as she stuck her phone in the front of her dress for safe keeping and then reached up to twist her hair into a messy knot. "And the waiter's about fifteen metres in front of me."
"Good. Let me know if you switch directions at any point. I'm trying to get to you as fast as I can."
Piper trailed the waiter across half the airport, or at least that's what it felt like. He didn't stop at all, just kept swivelling his head back to see if something was amiss. She kept having to duck behind people or into doorways to avoid catching his eye. He was getting much more vigilant and Piper could only assume it meant he was getting closer to his destination. They were nearly at the end of the long wing of the airport, the hallway ending in one final gate, when it all went to hell.
She was a second too late ducking out of the way when the waiter turned his head and for a moment, they held eye contact with each other standing twenty metres apart. Piper could see the recognition in his expression, the way his lips parted in a gasp and his eyes widened. Unable to hide, she froze in the middle of the hallway and stared back. Before she could so much as blink, he was spinning on his heel and sprinting off in the other direction.
"He's seen me," Piper told Harry as she broke into a run, her strides long as she tried to catch up with the waiter. "He's on the run and I'm going after him."
"Where are you?" Harry asked her, his voice sounding uncomfortably strained. Obviously the situation wasn't ideal and nothing was turning out the way he wanted it to.
"We're at the end of the hall, the last gate. He's heading for a side exit. Authorized personnel only but it looks like he's got a code." The waiter was just ahead of her, pushing the buttons on the keypad beside the door frantically. It lit up green and then he was yanking the door open and throwing himself through at a run.
"Don't lose him," Harry said sternly and clearly. "It is imperative that we do not lose him."
"Got it," Piper said as she surged forward, grabbing the door before it could shut and slipping through.
"And for Christ's sake, be careful!"
Her response was a mindless hum as she turned her head back and forth, looking down both ends of the hall. She caught sight of a body turning the corner of the hall on her right and ran off after it, skidding right around the next corner in time to see the retreating back of her target as he turned another corner.
She rhymed off every turn she took for Harry's sake, hoping he could keep track of the order of all the rights and lefts she shouted at him. No matter how fast she ran, she couldn't seem to catch up with the waiter. He clearly knew the layout better than she did because he never hesitated on the turns. Either that, or she had him scared and he was just turning any direction he wanted. She hoped it was the latter and he would end up circling around and getting himself mixed up.
Her shoes, gorgeous high heels that probably cost a fortune, had been kicked off ages ago, abandoned in a corner of the back hallways of the Trieste airport. Her stockinged feet slid on the smooth concrete floors of the back halls, nearly sending her sliding to the ground as she skidded around each turn.
She never expected it to save her life until she had to catch herself on the floor and narrowly avoided a bullet straight through her head for her troubles. Scrambling on the slippery floor, she ducked back around the corner, her back pressing to the wall as she tried to catch her breath. Her blood was rushing through her so fast that she felt a bit faint, her ears ringing from the echo of the gunshot not helping at all. She caught sight of the bullet slammed into the white brick walls, plaster crumbling down onto the floor.
That could have been her head.
"H-he's got a gun," Piper stammered out as she put her hand over her heart. She leaned a bit so she could stick her head out past the wall and see down the hall, hoping to catch a glimpse of where he was. All she could see was a long hallway with a number of alcoves before another shot was fired and she was forced to scoot back around the corner. "He's got a gun, Harry."
"So do you," Harry reminded her. "Use it."
"Right," she muttered to herself as she slipped her hand under the skirt of her dress, wrapping it around the grip of her handgun. Her fingers shook as she struggled with the holster but once she had the gun in her hand, her finger resting on the trigger, she felt more confident. She just had to imagine it like a training session with Liam. They'd done this exact drill before.
She flipped the safety off and then craned around the corner, scanning the hallway. The waiter was leaning out of an alcove about twenty metres down the hall, doing the same thing she was and scoping out the situation. She managed to fire off two shots that had him ducking back into the alcove, chunks of cement falling from the wall beside where he'd just been hovering. He leaned out to return fire and Piper snapped back to her secure place behind the wall.
She had to take a deep breath because the sound of those gunshots made a phantom pain flare in her hip, reminders of the fiery pain of her gunshot wound floating into her mind. She didn't have time for that now. After taking two deep breaths, she rounded the corner once more, gun held up at the ready.
The waiter was trying to make his escape, already halfway down the long hall. Piper jumped to her feet and broke into a run, slipping a bit on the floors but catching herself quickly. Her feet pounded on the cement floors as she gave all she could into running, her legs burning with the exertion. She fired off a shot that just went wide of the waiter but made him duck down instinctively, slowing his own run. Any distance she gained was reversed when he pivoted and fired a shot that forced her to slam into the wall, scrambling backward into the nearest alcove for cover.
"Petal?" Harry's voice sounded nervous in her ear and he was out of breath. "Are you okay? Where are you?"
"I'm okay," she said, feeling breathless herself. She took a peak around the alcove and saw the waiter slipping through a door at the end of the hall. "Can't talk. I'm losing him."
She burst out of the alcove and sprinted down the hall, skidding to a stop in front of the door she'd seen the waiter escaping through just a moment earlier. Throwing it open, she ran through, expecting another hallway with the waiter disappearing around the next corner.
She was not expecting to find herself in an empty hangar, large and tall with absolutely no cover. The big hangar doors were closed so the only exit to the room was behind her. For a moment, it looked like things were looking up. She had the waiter cornered. They'd get the documents back.
And then she saw him, standing with his legs spread evenly under his hips, his arms raised in front of him as he pointed the gun straight at her. She froze, her gun hanging at her side — useless. For the first time in her life, her mind was completely silent, not offering her a single solution. She didn't even feel scared — she didn't feel anything. Every conscious thought she had was centred on the barrel of that gun that was centred on her.
It was pure instinct to drop to the ground, right as the waiter fired the gun. She heard the high whine of the bullet as it soared right over her shoulder, missing her by inches. She could hear the scream but she barely registered it as her own. It was her hand that was raising the gun but that didn't feel quite like it was hers either. Everything was muted, like her world was surrounded in a layer of cotton. She didn't snap out of it until she heard the shots, felt the recoil in her hand.
Two shots.
Both hit their mark.
The waiter jerked backward and then sprawled down onto the floor. Piper watched with wide eyes, waiting. He didn't move.
She thought the gun clattering to the ground was his and didn't realize it was hers until she fell forward, both empty palms pressing to the cold floor. There was an insurmountable pressure on her chest and it felt like she was suffocating. She dropped her head, sucking in a breath that rattled in her throat and burned her lungs. Her arms shook and even when she tried to hold them straight, she felt them giving out beneath her.
Because shooting at a range was one thing but she'd just learned how different it felt when the target wasn't a piece of paper or a mannequin. She'd just decided the fate of a man's life. It wasn't something that she could have trained for because no training exercise could have prepared her for the anguish that had taken root when she'd heard those bullets find their mark.
She felt like she was swimming through murky water when the hand touched her shoulder, knees landing in her line of sight a moment later. Hands tight on her arms were dragging her upward until she was sitting back on her heels. Her vision was blurry but she'd recognize those vivid green eyes anywhere.
She could see his lips moving but couldn't hear him, couldn't make sense of the words. His hand curved under her jaw, forcing her face upward so she was staring right at him. His face was scrunched up in concern and by the way his lips smacked against each other repeatedly, she could tell he was saying her name.
"... you alright?" Sound was coming back to her in a rush, the silence of the hangar punctuated by Harry's frantic voice as it echoed against the walls. "Piper, where are you hurt?"
She shook her head, her chin wobbling and her lips quivering as the first hot tears spilled down her face. Every time she opened her mouth to speak, the words slipped away and she couldn't manage to tell him anything. Instead, she let him pat over her — her arms, her waist, her legs — looking for an injury that he wouldn't find other than skinned knees and palms.
He tugged her into his arms, wrapping them around her tightly, so tightly she could barely breathe. A ragged sob pushed it's way out of her but she muffled it in Harry's shirt. His hand rubbed gently between her shoulder blades and he whispered soothing words in her ear that didn't make any sense in her state of mind.
When he let her go, he did it with a weary sigh. Reaching his hands up to wipe away her tears, he took a moment to study her carefully. She tried to look fine but she didn't even know how to do that anymore.
Harry would have seen right through it anyway.
She rose a shaky hand and pointed beyond Harry to where the waiter still lay. Harry turned his head to see what had caught her attention but quickly looked back. He'd seen the waiter on his way in, surely, and had decided he wasn't a threat. That wasn't Piper's concern.
"H-he —"
That was all she could manage to get out before she had to shut her lips tight as they shook. Harry curved his hand over her shoulder supportively and then pushed up onto his feet, his hand sliding away. "Stay here," he said as if she was actually going to go anywhere.
She watched warily as he crossed over to the waiter, pulling his gun from the holster under his jacket and keeping it pointed at the prone body on the ground. He stepped gingerly around him, making a detour to kick the gun lying a short distance from the waiter's hand across the cement floors, far out of his reach. Harry's gun stayed trained on the waiter's head as he leaned forward and stuck two fingers into the waiter's neck, searching for a pulse.
"I-Is he de-ad?" Piper's whole body tensed as she waited for Harry's answer. A no would be a relief. A yes would make her a murderer.
"Nope," Harry said, surprising Piper by giving the waiter a hard slap across the face. Her eyes widened, surprised by Harry's indecency, until a loud gasp echoed through the empty hangar. The waiter's head shot up and he narrowed his eyes at Harry until he saw the gun in his hand. That wiped any threat from his face.
"He's just a big faker," Harry added as he reached down and began searching the waiter's pockets, pressing the gun into the waiter's forehead to ensure that he didn't get any ideas about trying to get away. "Trying to do a number on you. Well, it's not going to work," he quipped to the waiter as he held up what he had obviously been looking for — a wallet. "Not while I'm around. Now, let's go. On your front."
"She shot me!"
"In the leg," Harry snapped back as he nudged the waiter's side with his foot. "And it missed all the good stuff so stop all your whining and get on your front."
Harry's stern, no nonsense tone kicked the waiter into gear and he rolled onto his front with a loud groan. Harry pulled a zip tie from his jacket pocket and yanked the waiter's hands behind his back, tying them up tight. With the waiter secured, Harry tucked his gun away and began rifling through the wallet he'd taken from his coat.
"Hmm. Tom, is it? Tom from... well, look at that. Tom from Doncaster — thought I recognized that accent." Harry crouched down beside Tom, digging his fingers into Tom's hair so he could drag his head upward. "We're just waiting on a couple of my friends, Tom, and then you and I are going to have a little chat."
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
Harry's friends, as it turned out, were a huge group of agents from the AISI who opened up the hangar doors no more than ten minutes later. A cavalry had arrived, it seemed, the stretch of runway outside of the hangar crowded with military vehicles and men with big guns flooding the space.
Piper stayed sitting on the floor, watching with wide eyes as the activity around her reached a fever pitch. Harry spoke with one of the Italian agents, most likely explaining what was going on. Tom the waiter was dragged to his feet and made to walk to one of the cars outside, despite his whining about his injured leg. The guilt she felt each time she saw him limp was indescribable which was stupid because he'd tried to shoot her first. Still, it ate away at her.
This experience hadn't been anything like she imagined when she first pictured going out into the field. She'd imagined it being like some sort of James Bond film, glamour and intrigue and excitement, the good guys winning in the end and the bad guys getting what they deserved. So far it had been nothing like that. It had been high stress, a series of mistakes that kept piling up on each other, a confusing mess of contradictions.
It certainly hadn't turned out like she'd expected. Not at all like she expected.
She was starting to wish she'd never come.
Harry was busy trying to sort things out but he'd obviously taken the time to send someone to look after her because one of the Italian agents broke apart from the group and approached her slowly, like he was approaching a wild animal that could attack at any moment. It sort of made her want to cry but she suspected that was what the agent was afraid of so she sniffled and then put on a brave face. She let him pull her to her feet and walk her on shaky legs out of the hangar.
She paused halfway across the room to scoop up the manila envelope that had started all of this. It had been left lying on the floor, discarded like it was just another piece of paper and not the reason they were all crowded there together. She tried to ignore the pool of blood on the floor about a foot away and just kept a tight hold on that envelope as the agent walked her over to one of the vans, sitting her in the back with the doors flung wide. He scurried off the moment he thought he could, obviously uncomfortable being around an unstable junior agent for any longer than he had to be.
She didn't blame him.
For a good ten minutes, she resisted the urge to crack open the envelope and just sat with it in her trembling hands. Her eyes roamed the runway, trying to see what was going on. It was absolute chaos and before too long, she was sitting with her eyes trained on the ground because all the movement and activity was making her head ache terribly.
Eventually she cracked, sliding her finger under the edge of the envelope and tearing it open. She slipped the documents out, a big stack of shipping papers that she couldn't quite understand. She flipped through until she got to the list of products being shipped, expecting to see a list of weapons — assault rifles, handguns, semi-automatics, machine guns maybe. She frowned as she read over the inventory list.
"These aren't even weapons," she muttered to herself. "These are server parts."
"Everything alright?"
Piper jumped at the quiet voice, the northern accent such a contrast to the Italian voices she'd gotten so used to hearing. When she looked up, Jade was standing by the open doors to the van, her arms crossed loosely over her chest in as non-imposing of a posture as she could muster.
That had certainly been the biggest surprise of the night — besides the whole chase-turned-gun-fight, of course. Along with practically the entire AISI, Jade Thirlwall had slipped out of one of the SUVs, crossing over to talk with Harry straight away. Piper found it a little strange that she walked so comfortably among the Italian agents, considering her face was still plastered at the top of Interpol's Most Wanted but she must have some sort of working arrangement with their organization if they'd let her tag along.
She was standing in front of Piper now, smiling kindly at her. Dressed as she was in her wide-legged trousers and her floral printed blouse, she could have been the picture of innocence if it weren't for the gun strapped to a holster around her waist. The juxtaposition of the two different images was a little unsettling.
"What?" Piper stammered, swallowing hard as she placed her palms flat on the bed of the van beneath her, in case she needed to push up and make a quick getaway. "Um, yeah, of course."
Jade tilted her head a bit, her expression softening as she laughed, a gentle trill that carried over the quiet of the night. "You don't have to look so petrified, Piper," Jade told her. "I work with Perrie, remember? I'm one of the good guys."
"Right, I know," Piper said hurriedly, blushing when Jade just smiled politely. "I guess old habits die hard."
It took everything in her to relax, letting her shoulders drop and her hands unclench. She forced herself to look up at the other woman, steeling her nerves so she could act like a professional.
"So, what's happening now?"
"Harry's arranging for a private flight out for the two of you. You should be back in the UK within a couple of hours."
"And what about Tom?" Piper asked warily.
"I'm going to be talking to Tom," Jade told her, her sweet voice a complete contrast to the dark flash in her eyes. "We'll see if I can get anything out of him about his employers and what they're trying to do. I think I can get him talking. He looks like a squealer."
Piper shuddered at the undertone in Jade's voice, a coil of anxiety tightening up in her stomach. Despite Jade's assurances that she was working for the good side, Piper couldn't shake the feeling that there was something dark lurking in Jade. Maybe it was just a product of her job.
But then again, maybe it wasn't.
"Are you going to hurt him?"
Jade's expression shifted from that unsettling smirk into a gentler smile, her eyes softening with understanding. "No, Piper, I don't hurt people. Well," she added with a little wink, "not unless I have to." Piper gulped at just the thought. She'd seen pictures of Thirlwall's supposed work. She wondered how much of it was fabricated and how much of it wasn't. "Tom and I are just going to chat, I promise. I doubt he'll stay quiet for long even without any added pressure."
Piper forced an insincere smile onto her face. "Sounds like fun."
Jade grinned, snorting a laugh at Piper's poor attempt at a joke. Before she had a chance to say anything more, Piper caught sight of a familiar figure cutting across the open space of the runway toward the van. Jade lost her attention entirely as she kept her eyes on Harry until he was standing with them in front of the van.
He looked tired and just worn down. Piper didn't blame him because she was feeling much the same, exhausted and ready to go home. This mission had just been a big disaster and she wanted to go home to her warm bed, snuggle with her dog and her boyfriend, and stick it in her past. She didn't think Harry would fight her on it. He looked like he could use a cuddle too.
"Doing alright?" he asked, looking between the two of them with a pleasant expression, not quite a smile but at least he wasn't frowning. Piper sort of shrugged and nodded at the same time and Harry grimaced at the attempt. There was no way he was oblivious to her feelings and he was well aware that she was struggling. There was no point in hiding it.
"I'm going to leave you two," Jade said. "It was nice seeing you, Harry. I'll let you know when I have something useful." She leaned up on her toes to peck a friendly kiss to Harry's cheek and then smiled back at Piper. "It was so nice to put a face to the name, Piper. I hope we see each other again soon."
Before Piper could stammer out a half-hearted agreement, Jade had sauntered off, looking the pinnacle of cool and collected as she crossed the runway to where the vans were being shut up to be driven back to HQ. When Jade had hopped up into a van, disappearing from view, Piper chanced a look at Harry.
He was watching her carefully, a look in his eyes that she recognized as concern. She sighed and sagged down a bit, the tension tugging at her shoulders until they ached. Harry took a moment to set down the bag he had slung over his shoulder at Piper's side and then he bent over her.
"How are you doing?"
Piper shrugged, afraid that if she tried to say something, she'd just get all flustered and upset. When she tried to look down, Harry's hands caught her face, his fingers curving under her jaw as he lifted her head back up toward him. His fingers began to trace over every inch of her face — her forehead and her cheeks, under her eyes with a gentle swipe and a careful caress just below her lip. It was as if he is trying to read all her feelings and emotions in the lines on her face. She let her eyes flutter shut, his gentle touch a welcome respite from everything that had happened.
When his lips touched down gently on her forehead, her face scrunched up as she tried her hardest not to lose it. She just had to keep it together for a bit longer. Until they got home. Then she could have a good cry in the shower and she wouldn't have to burden Harry with all of these confusing feelings.
Except Harry wouldn't let her do that. He could read her better than anyone and it was clear by the look on his face when she felt brave enough to open her eyes that he wasn't fooled. He knew just how much this was eating away at her.
"I'm fine," she said in a shaky voice that was hardly helping her case. "Maybe a little shaken but I'm not, like, freaking out or anything okay? So you don't have to — wait, what're you doing?"
Harry had dropped his hands from her face so he could slide them up her thighs, reaching under the hem of her dress. She was confused for a moment, wondering if he had seriously misread the signals she was giving off or if he was just being an idiot. Her breath caught in her throat and she let out a little gasp when Harry's fingers curled around the waistband of her tights.
"Budge up for a second," Harry directed, his voice quiet but firm. Piper planted her hands on the bed of the van and lifted her hips, allowing Harry to pull the tights down her thighs. She winced when they caught on her skinned knees — shredded, more like, now that she had a proper look at them — and Harry muttered a soothing word or two as he dragged them right off.
That bag he'd been carrying with him turned out to be a first aid kit and Harry rifled through it until he found antiseptic, dousing a piece of gauze with it before gently dabbing her knees. Knowing it was going to sting didn't stop the hiss that slipped from her lips at the burn of the antiseptic on her torn skin. Harry simply curved his free hand around her calf, a warm and comforting pressure against her skin, and murmured, "only hurts for a second."
It was a blatant lie but the way he said it, his voice wrapping around the words in a hushed manner, made Piper feel a little bit better. Or maybe it was just having him close once more after all of the separation and uncertainty. She wanted to jump into his arms and just hang onto him, feel him pressed against her as close as she could get him, but she stayed hunched in place, chewing on her lip instead.
He didn't say anything of importance, not until he'd wrapped a bandage around her right knee, the worse of the two, and cleaned over her palms which had been scraped up too. With that taken care of, he finally crouched before her, his hands resting gently on her thighs to keep his balance. He licked his lips warily and seemed to be debating about whether or not to say what was on his mind.
"I want you to know that you did really well tonight."
She scoffed, reaching a hand up to rub her nose which was running from the pressure of tears that radiated through her sinuses. Harry tried to take her hand but she snatched it away before he could. "Don't coddle me," she snapped at him. "I shot someone today."
Harry let out a resigned sigh. "Piper, this is our job. This is what we do." His voice was gentle and acquiescent. It was clear from his tone that, despite the workings of the job that were unpleasant, Harry had come to terms with them long ago and he was trying to help her do the same. "Sometimes that means having to make the hard choices. Sometimes we have to shoot people. Sometimes we have to sacrifice one for the sake of many. It's not easy and that's why we're the ones who have to do it. Because if we don't, no one else will."
She nodded because what Harry said made sense and she knew that, she knew all of this. It was the same thing they told them when they were just finishing up recruit training, about to start working for an organization that specialized in protecting their country. They all knew what the job meant — it was just difficult to accept when it was real like this, when she was in the field making these split second decisions.
She looked up at Harry with eyes wet with tears, her chin wobbling. "But why does it have to be so hard?"
Harry pressed his lips shut, his eyes full of understanding and sympathy. "When it gets easy, that's when you know you've lost yourself. I know how hard it is and how awful it feels but it's what reminds you that you're human. That's not a bad thing, I promise."
She nodded, letting out a long breath. Harry gave her leg a pat and then stood. "Let's just get home, yeah?"
She nodded and let him guide her back onto her feet. He grabbed her hand, twining their fingers together, and used it to pull her away from the van slowly. He took small steps to accommodate her shaky legs that only let her walk so fast before they threatened to give out beneath her. With incredible patience, Harry kept her pace as he led her across the runway, farther than where the SUVs had previously been parked. There was a private plane waiting there, the steps lowered with a flight attendant and the pilot waiting at the bottom.
"You go on up, petal," Harry whispered into her ear, his hand letting hers go so he could give her lower back a gentle pat. She looked back at him warily and the apprehension must have been clear on her face because he leaned in to kiss her temple gently. "I'm right behind you. I just need a word with the pilot."
The flight attendant smiled at her as she approached the stairs and automatically moved to lead Piper up the stairs and onto the plane. She mumbled a thank you to the woman before taking a seat in one of the chairs that were facing each other, bypassing the couch and the isolated single seats. Curling up in the seat, she waited for Harry to make his return, sticking her shaking hands between her thighs to try and stop the tremors.
He appeared in the doorway a moment later, only pausing to retrieve something from the flight attendant before he made his way back to her. He leaned over her seat so he was hovering over her and stuck out his hands. There were two pills resting in his palm — Valium. "Take these."
"I'm okay."
"Take these, Piper," he said more firmly. "You need them."
She didn't want to argue so she took the pills, popping them in her mouth and swigging back water from the bottle Harry handed her to wash them down. He took the bottle back when she was done, capping it as he shifted into the seat across from her, stretching his legs out languidly. She kept her eyes trained on the dark night outside the window, hoping that the Valium would set in soon. She was so keyed up that she was just exhausted. She felt like she wanted to just shut down for awhile.
When the plane began to move beneath them, taxiing on the runway, she flinched hard, enough that Harry noticed judging by his sympathetic sigh.
"Hey petal?" She looked over at him wearily. "Come over here. Sit with me."
She scrambled out of her chair and into his lap, letting him adjust them until they were sitting comfortably together in the large seat. His arms wrapped around her middle and he dropped his chin down on top of her head when she tucked her face into his sternum.
"Just close your eyes," he said softly as his hand drifted up her back soothingly. "Before you know it, we'll be home."