{A Hobbs&Shaw Fiction}
When Hattie Shaw is framed for killing her team, Isabella Ford is thrown into the firing line. Growing up with the Shaw family was the best thing that could have happened to Isabella, yet along the good came the bad, and lots...
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As Isabella finished tying her combat boots in double knots, she stood sceptically in front of the semi-cracked mirror that balanced against one of the brick walls. The outfit she had been given was tight, exceptionally tight. But it was supposed to be like that. Fortunately, the material was perfect; she could stretch, fight, jump, all the things she tested whilst putting it on. The all-black outfit was topped with a slimline bulletproof vest, which she just hoped wouldn't come into play.
Isabella gathered all her things, sliding the earpiece into her ear carefully before pulling her wild hair into a high ponytail, keeping it out of her way. She knew she'd have to sneakily attach the listening devices to the others, or else they'd most likely refuse.
As she began her venture back down the stairs, Isabella frowned deeply, hearing arguing from the room she had left the group in. She knew they were difficult, but they really couldn't go two minutes without having a disagreement.
"If you think I'm letting you hand yourself over to Eteon, you're out of your mind." Deckard declared harshly, slapping his gun into his belt. They'd also been given a change of clothes, but Hattie wanted to wait to explain her plan before she changed her appearance.
"I just need to get inside, get the machine and get out. I can do this. It's just like a Mick Jagger." Hattie pleaded, clasping her hands, glancing between her older brothers with wide eyes. She knew they couldn't deny her anything, Hattie just needed to push them far enough.
"What's a Mick Jagger?" Hobbs questioned with a puzzled expression as Isabella drifted into the room unnoticed. She almost laughed at how tight his bulletproof vest was; she felt bad for the poor guy. It could not have been comfortable.
"It's something we used to do when we were younger; it's an inside man on the job. They create a distraction whilst the others get what they're after." Isabella explained, looking over at Hattie worriedly, "You know how dangerous it is for you to go in there. Let me go instead."
Before Hattie could reject her offer, Deckard scoffed, pacing the room before turning to the girls with a stern expression, "Neither of you are going in there. We just need a plan."
"We don't have time, Dec; I am literally going to implode in less than thirty-six hours. We need that machine, and if I hand myself over, they'll take me right to it. Then you guys can come in and save the day if that's what you're so desperate to do." Hattie explained sensibly as Hobbs shrugged, agreeing with her logic.
"She's right, that could work. If they get the virus out of her, we can get in and grab her before they have a chance to kill her." Hobbs urged, crossing his arms, and Hattie nodded, taking his side.
"That's not a risk we're willing to take," Owen argued, standing beside his brother supportively as Isabella watched from the sidelines. Both of them had a point, but Hattie's idea seemed just a little more promising, given the fact that she had a solid plan.
