File 29: The One with the Incident

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- Harry -

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"Where's the bloody asshole." Breaking the silence with my harsh tone, office doors slamming shut right behind me.

I approach Michael who is sat at the front desk, playing with a ball of rubber bands. He looks up once I come to a stop right on front of him, standing up from the chair, "I swear I'm going to fucking kill him." The amount of anger I get with the thought of this wretched man is enough to make me want to take the life from him.

"Now hold on just a second," Michael puts both of his hands up, blocking my way as I shrugged out of my coat and tossed it onto the coat rack placed at the corner of the room, "You can't kill him... not yet, at least."

"Well, why the hell not?" My jaw clenches as I cross my arms over my chest, shifting my weight from one foot to the other.

"If we keep Rick alive long enough, we can get answers from him. Don't you want to make him speak like he hasn't before? I know you have questions for the man and maybe it'll help the two of you end this mission for once and for all." I pinch the bridge of my nose and nod my head along with his words.

"And what makes you think we'll get him to speak? We've already tried that a few times." I sigh, walking past him and he follows me to the elevator just down the hallway.

"There's an easy solution to that, Styles," The elevator opens as soon as we walk up to it, we step into it and he quickly presses the button for the lowest level in this building, "We torture the bitch."

I look over to him with a smirk obvious on my features, the idea becoming more inviting by the second. His eyes meet mine as the doors close, his smile mirroring mine and in this moment, I'm thinking that this will actually work- and also that we're a little mad.

The second Michael called with the good news, I fled from my flat and drove my way to the office. When I walked in, I was engulfed with the smell of work - I know, it's strange but this place gives off a certain type of smell and feeling.

I felt like I've been away from it too long and it was like I was where I was meant to be. Here, protecting the world from assholes like Rick the Dick; on my way here, I spent the time thinking of a new nickname for him and I quite like it.

Ariana wanted to come with me but I refused to let her, I didn't want any distractions while I was here. Of course her stubborn ass refused to even listen, so she made a compromise and agreed to come in around noon- that'll give me enough time to do what I need to.

The elevator lets out a beep as we reach the underground levels, choosing to take the stairs the rest of the way since we had to stop at a few doors.

"We'll need knives, different kinds, different sizes. We need answers and this is step one in the right direction." I say, pulling a set of keys out and unlocking the door to the arsenal.

The door creaked as it slowly open and I walked in, tossing my keys onto a table top and Michael stays put in the middle of the doorway, wide eyes and a jaw dropped as his eyes roamed the entire room; from the walls, to the floor, to cabinets, tables and pretty glass cases.

"Wow." Is all he says.

"We keep it pretty clean, this room is very high maintenance." I chuckle, playing with the rings on my fingers as I pondered on which drawer the knives happened to be hiding in.

"It's so beautiful," He still hasn't moved, "I think I'm going to cry."

"If this makes you cry," I smirk, pulling a few drawers open and coming across the set of knives I was looking for, "wait until you see the one upstairs, this is just a tiny preview." He gasps.

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