Harry Styles, a secret service agent working for British intelligence is tasked with finding the killer after a series of brutal but calculated murders across Europe. His mind is sharp, he's smart, arrogant and works with a precision that leaves no...
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Harry Styles
In the quiet corner of a cafe, I thought about the information I had been given a week ago, information I was still struggling to process properly in my head.
I'd made no progress on getting my computer back, and it was stressing me out enough that I had nearly picked all the skin off from around my nails. I still haven't told anybody it was missing, nobody had seemed to notice or question it either. It was just a government computer, with every single piece of classified information on every threat, every wanted criminal, every case, everything to do with national security— it was totally chill that I hadn't got it back yet. Totally fucking chill.
It was a rainy day, the sounds of the water hit against the glass and the concrete, there was a damp feeling in the air, people taking shelter inside to escape the weather. There was a rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee in the room too. The windows were blurred from the rain, I could see the occasional blob of colour that was an umbrella passing by the window
Niall sat opposite me, sipping on some green juice thing with his stacks of files opposite him, working through some paperwork that needed done. The case was tough, it was going to take months and a lot of work to get anywhere with it. The suspected killer, the girl, Winter, was practically a ghost. For the past week Niall and I had been trying to find anything on her, an address, a birth certificate, even just another piece of security footage, and there was nothing. It was like she didn't exist.
"So the interview with the Vienna witness will be tomorrow at four." Niall mumbled with his straw in his mouth, then glanced at me across from him.
"Mhm." I hummed, staring off at nothing.
My brain had so many thoughts and none of them were ones I was good at processing. I still couldn't get over the fact that I hooked up with her, that I had her in my bed, and I was assigned to her case where she was a primary suspect the next morning.
"They gave a brief statement at the time but when we get an official one during the interview we can begin narrowing it down with the list of potential suspects." He went on, his voice raised. I knew he could tell I wasn't listening because he was trying to move his face to get in my eyeline.
"Thought we already had a photo." I looked down at his stack of paperwork briefly, glad that he actually didn't mind doing it, because I fucking hated it. "The blonde girl."
"We have photos of all the suspects. The one from the other day was just because she'd been using a fake ID at the bar." Nialls brows furrowed a second, unsure of the answer. He licked the pad of his thumb to flick through a few papers, glancing down through the glasses perched on the end of his nose before he answered, withdrawing that same picture that had my stomach plummeting to the floor when I first saw it. "But I mean look at her. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time using a fake. Doesn't look like she'd hurt a fly. Look at the line up, out of all these people, it's not gonna be her."
