Deckard

21.

His palms were sweaty. Beaded sweat collecting on his brow as he followed the shadows of London. Keeping out of the eagle eyes of the thousands of CCTV cameras around the city.

The boulder and his sister trailing behind him as he crossed the roads. His mind reeling and calculating at all the possible ways he could possibly get them out of the country, extract this deadly thing that was racing through his little sister's veins and then eventually face his wife. Who was more than likely going to unleash hell upon him next time her cold eyes settled on him.

The sky was threatening to open and unleash a torrent of rain, he just hoped it held off long enough so that he was inside. He didn't have time for wasting precious minutes having to get changed if his suit became marked with rain. It would be something else his wife would kill him over.

Not the fact that his face was plastered over all news channels and broadcasting his bald head into every phone and screen available in the county, most likely Europe at this stage. He needed a more plausible thing to say than what was currently swimming through his thoughts. He needed to think logically. Not about the dire situation, and how they needed to stay alive, but how he was going to talk about this to Megan. Without getting castrated. 

'Hey, Darling, I didn't mean to get my bald head stuck next to the Rocks across the entire globe for something I didn't do when trying to escape a rampaging, should be dead, an ex-friend of mine that I stuck three slugs into a few years back. Oh, and my sister is going to cause an apocalypse.' Yeah, Megan would love that.

He was approaching the safe house. Crossing the road as inconspicuously as possible when he had a big mouth shaking the ground with every step wasn't something he was happy about. But beggars can't be choosers. The Carpenters pub was a pub that blended in with the dirty streets of London. Housing a large, storage unit that the couple used to store their cars. Predominantly they were Megan's cars, but Deckard wasn't going to correct Hobbs as he mouthed off the size of the magnificent beasts that were awaiting patiently their next ride. Deckard was positive that Megan often adored her cars just as much as her weapons. A secret, forbidden wall behind the cars concealing all the blades and guns that she could use. If she got her hands on any of these weapons, she could make an empire fall. 

He breathed a sigh of relief when he activated the sleep monitors and began searching for Megan's whereabouts. Ensuring that she had got on that plane this morning and was where she said she would be. That's if her luggage that had one of the few trackers in was going the same direction she was. He didn't have time to check the others. 

"Drink?" Hattie offered Hobbs,

"Yeah, I'll take a little one," he replied. watching as the blonde poured the strong amber liquid into a tumbler. And kept pouring, and pouring, and pouring until it reached the lip of the glass. Hobbs accepting the drink from her outstretched hand, making the glass look half its size in his hand. 

"Alright, there's someone in Moscow, an old friend," Deckard started, "We have a long history," It was more his wife's contact, but he wasn't going to disclose that. This contact, Megan should have been meeting with regardless on her trip this morning so he could kill two birds with one stone. Collect the materials he needed and give his wife the heads up of the shit storm raging around himself and his sister.

"She and her crew are paying a visit to some locals. Particular Russian criminal element. They got things we're gonna need." he proposed as he brought up the data on the screen. 

Hobbs took a stand behind Deckard as he cast a glance over the feminine crew, "Considering your history of friends, how many bullets you put in this one's head?"

"Hey, they can set us up with gear and I don't hear any other ideas." Deckard defended as he began pulling up the other trackers he had on his wife, hoping Hobbs didn't follow what he was doing. Deckard's skin becoming pale and he gulped to try and swallow the lump that had formed in his throat, "You know as well as I do getting out of this country's gonna be extremely difficult. We have every major intelligence agency already hunting us down."

Hattie rose from her seat adjacent to the pool table on the comfortable leather sofa, strutting over to the men, "And there's the fact that you disgraced MI6 when you betrayed your team," she jabbed before falling silent.

"Veni, Vidi, Vici." A feminine purr came from the shadows behind them. 

Her long legs moving like a dancer as she strode into the daylight peeking through the high window, casting a shadow onto one side of her sculptured face as she stalked towards the three frozen prey,

"I came. I saw. I conquered." Her red stained lips pulling into a wicked smirk as her predatory eyes focused on Deckard. Reaching an arm out to gently trace her fingertips along his tense shoulders as she circled him. Running them over his clavicle and under his chin. Raising his head so he stared deep into her soul,
"Hello, Dexy."