Legendary // H.S

44.

'The night's almost up

The night's almost done

But I see your eyes

You wanna go again'

*

The theft of the Cullinan IX is only one day away. The small ring, known as the insignificant piece of the most famous collection of diamonds in the world will soon be in our possession. If all goes to plan, those tasked with protecting it for the monarchy won't even realise it's gone until the culprits have slipped away in the crowds of London, their pockets much heavier than when they started the day. This is the first step in pulling off the greatest heist in history. Eventually, when people look back on this moment in time, what we're setting to achieve will be written on the pages of the story. Though our names will remain anonymous, our legacy will be known for generations to come. Perhaps that is the biggest prize to win.

The atmosphere in the warehouse is one of excitement. Everyone that can help has spent every waking minute of their days leading up to the main event in this building. Of course, it's only a small task that requires few people, but to make sure it runs smoothly it's best to have more hands on deck. A small team was put together to make sure George had everything ready tech wise, Louis also helping when he had the time. Another had put together a selection of weapons in case we need them but in my naivety I pray we won't. It's just a simple case of taking the ring when no one is looking. Surely that should be easy.

As of late, the paranoia has gotten to me, though, which has only encouraged me to better my skills with firearms. If I've learnt anything over these months it's that you never know when danger will strike. I always need to be prepared, especially when we're about to pull off a high stakes robbery. Hugo Charles has made it perfectly clear that he's watching our every move, which means he's probably aware of our activities. The question that remains is why he's chosen to keep silent about them. Maybe he wants the pleasure of bringing us down himself. Wants to make it personal.

I've spent most evenings after work at the warehouse practising my aim. When Harry can help he's there to guide me, but Zayn and Babz have led the session a couple of times. They've shown me some new techniques that I won't deny feeling excited over. There's a certain type of adrenaline that courses through your veins when you're holding something so powerful, knowing exactly how to use it and being able to perform the act in a technical way. There's a flamboyance to it, the art of shooting. I've gathered that Zayn isn't the biggest fan of guns, rather opting for weapons that require more physical strength, something I believe to be down to his time in the army. Babz, on the other hand, takes particular pleasure with firing a gun. She's cocky with it, and rightly so considering how excellent her aim is. It only leaves me wondering how long they've had to rely on these weapons.

More and more I seem to be finding myself drawn to them. After the first time I was attacked at work, I was so terrified of them. The sheer damage they can cause sent a shiver down my spine and made my pulse race. Just knowing how easy it could be to end someone's life, how easy it would be to end mine if those men got what they wanted. Since then, every time I spend in the presence of the weapons only sparks my curiosity more. There's a familiarity with them now, something I feel comfortable with. It's put my entire moral compass into a spiral.

Trying to understand my ethics isn't helped by the abundance of questions compared to the few answers we hold regarding Hugo Charles. Visiting Belly certainly helped, but only to a small degree. At least I know I can trust her, so I'm not entirely alone in this. However, without even realising she's been embroiled into something she had no say in. Her life, and that of her baby's, is now on the line, the worst part being she can't even confront her fiancé about it through fear of making things worse. I've held my promise and kept in contact with her; I won't have a repeat of the events of Joe's death on my hands again. That day has been tattooed on my memory, leaving scars on my heart. A man I once envisioned a life with now dead because of the woman he loved too hard. A tragic end to a sorrowful tale. I will do everything in my power to ensure Belly does not meet that fate.