espionage [h.s.]

FORTY FOUR

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HARRY

"Fucking hell, this bag is heavy," Rochelle huffs as she attempts to pull the duffel bag over her shoulder, abandoning her plan of dragging it along the floor due to the numerous times she's almost tripped over it.

"I told you that you didn't need to pack that much," I remind her, my eyes flitting between the train schedule on my phone and the departure board a few feet away. "I also said I'd carry it for you, but you refused that offer."

"That's because I don't need you to carry it for me," she argues, beginning to sound a little breathless now. "I can do it perfectly fine. It's just...a bit hard."

I raise an eyebrow at her. "You know, sometimes I think your strict feminism does you more harm than good."

"I'm not even going to dignify that with a response."

I just laugh, my lips curving into an amused smile as I watch her continue to struggle with the bag, determined as ever. "All I'm saying is that sometimes I think it'd benefit you more if you got some help. For example, like not straining your back by just letting me carry the damn bag."

"No," she mutters, narrowing her brown eyes at me in a playful glare. "Fuck you, fuck your strong manly muscles, and fuck the patriarchy too."

I chuckle softly and shake my head at her stubbornness, but I let her continue to haul the bag around while I focus on making sure we're heading in the right direction. When we're walking up the several flights of stairs to the platform, Rochelle finally allows me to take the bag from her, still complaining about it even as she rubs her shoulder to help soothe the ache that the weight had caused. I smile at her smugly as I effortlessly pull the bag onto my shoulder, but she just rolls her eyes and sticks her middle finger up at me.

After our morning training session earlier, Anton sent Rochelle and I off on our mission with a printed itinerary from Julian that's practically planned down to the minute. We drove a couple hours to the closest train station, where we're going to be catching a sleeper train which should arrive in Amsterdam at around ten tomorrow morning. Needless to say, neither of us are very happy about the fact that we have to stay overnight on a train, especially because we both struggle to sleep anyway, but we don't really have much choice in the matter.

When we reach the correct platform, the train is already there so we board it immediately, showing our ticket and booking information to one of the conductors who shows us to our room. As soon as I unlock the cabin and slide the door open, both mine and Rochelle's faces fall at the same time. The room is tiny, only a few feet in width and not much more in length. A bunk bed takes up the majority of the small space, covered in simple white bedding with one pillow each, along with a small sink and even a wardrobe. The best part of the room is undoubtedly the large window that stretches across the expanse of the wall, offering a stunning view of the sun gradually dipping behind the hills in the distance.

With a sigh, Rochelle pushes past me walk into the room, inspecting the small space while I squeeze past her to drop both my rucksack and her bag onto the bottom bunk. "Couldn't Anton have stretched for first class?" she asks, arching an unimpressed eyebrow.

"Especially for his 'most loyal' trainer and 'most talented' trainee," I quip, quoting his words from yesterday while Rochelle nods along in agreement. "Oh well, we only need to sleep here. Let's go get some food."