Deception - H.S

Chapter 37

Brace yourselves

The square where everything comes alive is oddly silent today. It was a beautiful day, the sky a bright blue and filled with clouds, a slight breeze in the air - the perfect weather. It was funny how a quiet, busy day could turn into a violent scene of a crime, quiet to chaos - just in a matter of five minutes. The open area had translucent glass panels around the area with a gap between each creating a circle around the square except for the front which lacked any panels. This was where the people would walk in from. 

The area was laced with a group of people in expensive suits and others in regular clothes setting up things and putting up paintings for the open gallery auction that is going to start at 4pm.

Rich people loved their auctions, it was their way of boasting about their money with an excuse of donating but everyone knows that most of these people wouldn't even participate if this was an anonymous auction - why do good if the world can't see? That mentality is pathetic.

"We should not be doing this in the middle of broad daylight, it is 3 fucking pm." The man dressed in all black grunts while positioning his rifle on the stand, looking through the scope and adjusting it so it lines up exactly through the 15-inch-wide space between two glass panes fifteen stories below him. He was wearing a hoodie that was pulled up to cover his head up till his brows, the only piece of clothing that did a little bit to hide his features, he didn't care much for discretion although he should.

He speaks into his earpiece, watching the man who was dressed up in a black suit, wearing matching black glasses that were covering his blue eyes, come into his line of vision from the scope that he was looking through, "Instructions, H, cannot do anything about that." His Irish accent fills the earpiece that they were wearing.

"Well, it is bloody stupid to pick a time as such where anyone could see us if they paid enough attention." He huffs and steps away from the equipment, "Lou, you good?" He looks to the small figure standing on top of the roof a couple of buildings away on his left, wearing the exact same outfit, all black, but with a black neck warmer to hide his face, "Yeah, just do your fucking job well so I don't have to step in."

"I will, as always." He sits on the edge of the roof, feet dangling towards the inside because god knows what the public would do if his feet were towards the outside, he doesn't usually care about such things but the situation was pressuring him to conform into the mold his superiors had created, ones that he hates and tries to break through every chance he got. He was waiting for Niall to get to the roof and when he does, he is holding a laptop in his hand that he places beside Harry, pointing to the screen, "As soon as Li gets his wallet and phone and gives us the go, you press enter. That should interrupt all the cameras and signals in a four-block radius, but only for three minutes."

They avoid using full names as a precaution, Harry's name being the hardest to make a nickname out of, besides, he hates the concept of nicknames, it is an overexaggerated attempt to make someone feel special according to him.

"The target better be in his position on time or it will be an open fire." Harry grits his teeth in annoyance, his heart beating loudly against his chest despite of being in this situation for more times than he can count, he was used to this like it was his daily job because it kind of was.

After all, they had been doing this for a lot longer than they were a band.

"Target entering the venue, I'm on him." Niall leaves immediately, knowing it will take him exactly 2 minutes and 33 seconds to reach where he needs to be.

Everything was calculated and carefully measured, it had to be, they were known for their precise work and applauded for effectively getting jobs done without getting caught. Over time, they had worked through how to communicate and react, what to do if something goes wrong, and every other possibility that could cause them to mess up. They had their cues, hints, and little pieces of discrete communication that had proven to be important and a lifesaver on multiple occasions previously.