Achilles Heel

27. Harry - Hide and Seek?

Warnings: This chapter features graphic descriptions of torture/murder. If this is something that you’d rather skip on, I’ll put a knife emoji in the middle so you know to skip it. Then I’ll put an 🗡️emoji at the end where there are no longer any mentions of it. At the end there will be an author’s note and I’ll make bullet points of things that are relevant. :)

Harry’s Pov

“Is she asleep?” I question Niall, watching as he switches between the cameras. All of the cameras show no one walking throughout the house which is good. “Sick, mate. Thanks. Keep an eye on these, yeah? I don’t fancy her making her way down here. This is the last thing she needs to see,” I breathe out, giving a slow shake of my head as I exit my office, locking the door behind me. I also don’t want Astar to peep around my office. Some things are better left hidden.

We all have our secrets, don’t we little devil?

My mind goes back to the conversation that I had with Liam earlier today before the drop, taking one last brief look at the now shut office door. Liam gave Niall a run for his money whenever Niall first joined the Devil’s Tribe.

“What can you dig up on me, blondie?” Liam questions. The question seems to be a rhetorical one. One that doesn’t need an answer and it’s said in a joking manner, yet the expression on Liam’s face is one that is anything but. The grip Liam has on the back of the desk chair that Niall is sitting in is a death grip. His knuckles are turning white the longer I stare.

“Liam, mate. Leave the fake blonde to be, yeah? Let him do the job that I’ve asked him to do. He’s passed every test.” I sigh, bringing my hand up to rub at my temples. They’ve been bickering back and forth for the past month. Liam because he doesn’t trust Niall. Niall because he’s getting ticked off by Liam’s behaviour.

Then there’s me, just excited to finally have someone who knows how to knock out the electrical grid. I’ve been searching for a while to find someone with the talent to do so and someone that I can trust. I lucked out with Niall.

“He knocked out the cameras for the last bank robbery, didn’t he? Is that not enough for you, Liam? I need you to pack it in,” I huff, slapping my hand down on Liam’s shoulder before tugging him back off the back of Niall’s chair. I can see Niall visibly relax as I pull Liam back. His body seems to become one with the chair once more, fingers resuming on the keyboard as he types away.

“You know I--” I’m quick to cut him off, holding my hand up, narrowing my eyes at Liam. I’ve heard this spiel so much that I could probably relay the entire thing back to Liam.

“That you don’t trust him. I know, Liam. However, he hasn’t given us any reason to not trust him. Push that feeling to the side, please?” I never say please and I can tell it has caught Liam off guard. He fish mouths for a few seconds, tilting his head to the side a bit before he just nods, finally giving in to my pleas.

Liam takes a step back, fixing his cufflinks before glancing to Niall then back to me. “Very well. I’ll be downstairs in the shooting range.”

Liam disappears downstairs, leaving Niall and I by ourselves.

“I’m sorry about him. He’ll come around eventually,” I sigh, running a slow hand through my hair as I walk up behind Niall to watch what he’s doing. There’s a bunch of stuff on the screen that makes little to no sense to me.

Niall slowly turns to look up, making direct eye contact, his face telling me everything his mouth doesn’t.

We’d be quite the fucking team.

And we are quite the fucking team, just with an extra sidekick now who’s a badass as much as I don’t want to admit it. Astar is beneficial to us, even if she isn’t actually a part of the Devil’s Tribe. Which is such a shame. She’d be a valuable asset.

Once I reach my bedroom, I turn to look at my bed where Astar is currently sleeping, a pillow flush up against her front. I know I shouldn’t have let her fall asleep here but I couldn’t bring myself to ask her to move. She’s injured after all, not that that matters to me or anything.

I hesitate before opening my closet, glancing at the door I’m sliding open before I glance back to where Astar lays asleep, her chest rising and falling slowly against the pillow that she’s clutching onto as if it’s a vice. The moonlight lays over her in a way that accentuates her side profile. My hand leaves the closet without even thinking. My feet seem to have a mind of their own as I make my way towards the side of the bed that she’s on, glancing out the window where the curtain is parted just the slightest bit.

The moonlight washes over her, making her appear even more beautiful if that’s possible. Her nose twitches just a bit as a piece of hair falls into her face and I can’t stop myself. Before I even realise what I’m doing, I’m reaching down to gently push the stray piece of hair back behind her shoulder, being careful of the one that is wrapped in gauze.

Eventually, it seeps in that I’m watching her sleep like a fucking creep, my eyes widening as I stand up a bit straighter and hightail it towards the closet. I glance back, just to ensure that she’s still asleep. She’s now on her back with one leg stuck out from under the duvet.

Well, she has proven that she isn’t afraid of a little darkness.

Once I’m inside my closet, I push the clothes to the side so that I have access to the keypad.

0666.

Am I surprised that Astar hasn’t figured it out for herself, yeah. Even if she managed to get past this first door, she wouldn’t be able to make it past the second one. The first is easy for a reason.

The door slides open with ease, stepping into the room right as the door shuts behind me. The lights flicker on since they’re motion censored, lighting up the walls that have guns hanging up on them. The walls are covered with weapons, ranging from simple grenades up to high powered assault rifles.

It doesn’t matter the length that Astar is here, it fuels me with pride to know that she won’t even scratch the surface of who I am and just how big the Devil’s Tribe is.

I’m unable to wipe the smirk from my face as I speak, watching as the pin pad comes up from the centre of the room and I type in another date.

1225.

Happy day of murder, mummy. Hope you’re dancing with the devil, are you enjoying who I have become?

“Louis,” I speak right as the door opens, leading down to the basement. The man in question appears right at the base of the stairs which makes me smile as I descend.

“Everything is set up and ready for you, H.” There’s a dark look on Louis’ face and blood on his hands already, something that makes me click my tongue up against the roof of my mouth.

“Having fun without me? I don’t remember giving you the green light,” I tsk, letting my head shake from side to side.

The dim light lit the man up perfectly and the fear was practically dripping from his facial features. Especially as he catches sight of me. His hands curl up into fists as he fights against the restraints, shaking his head from side to side before he’s muttering prayers under his breath.

Something that makes me cackle.

“Do you really think God will help you here...?” I chastise, finally making my way over to where the man is, hands in my pocket as I take everything in. If there’s one thing you don’t do, it’s backstab or double-cross me.

You’ll end up dead and they will never recover your body.

I drag my tongue along my teeth, making a noise as I do so before I remove my hands from my pockets and place them on my knees. “Now, I tried to have a civil little talk with you at the drop but someone doesn’t like to cooperate,” I chuckle, moving to place my hands down on either side of the chair that he’s currently tied to.

“So, why don’t we try this again, Rodney,” I spit, dropping the nice act and letting everything spill out that I have been hiding from Astar. A mask is so hard to maintain sometimes.

“You see. I’ve been doing a little reading up on you and you’re terrible at hiding your digital footprint, you know?” I question, moving one hand from the chair so that I can grasp onto Rodney’s chin. I force him to keep his eyes on me as I continue, “You see, it didn’t take me long to find your other three identities. There are quite a few people that want your head on a swivel it seems,” I chuckle, maintaining eye contact with the man as I watch his lower lip tremble. The dim light makes it to where I can see a bead of sweat make its way down, getting caught on his upper lip. Or is that a tear? Frankly, I could give a shit less.

🗡️

My eyes are quick to close the second I see Rodney purse his lips. His spit lands right on my face, making my jaw clench at just the fact that he thought that was in his best interest. I let out a deep-throated chuckle, pushing myself up from the chair for now. I reach down for the end of my shirt, lifting it up so that I can wipe his spit from my face.

“Let’s talk about your wife, Rodney. I would tread lightly if I were you because I don’t give two shits about you or your little family. To me they’re just...well,” I glance to the three other boys that are in the room.

Liam is leaning against the wall, one foot pressed to the concrete while his arms are over his chest. His eyes are dead set on Rodney, a look of disgust on his face. Liam always despises those who wrong me.

Zayn is playing with his lighter, flicking the flame on and off as he chews on the piece of gum that he has in his mouth. He’s chewing on it as if it’s the last thing he’ll chew on, viscous and with intent.

Then there’s Louis. Bless his heart. He isn’t even paying attention, just tossing his knife from hand to hand and doing little tricks with it. There’s dried blood on the end of the blade, which goes with the cut that is still leaking a bit of blood on Rodney’s cheek. He probably said something smart and Louis does what he does best, inflict pain in the most painful of areas without killing the other person.

I turn my attention back to Rodney, my fist coming into contact with his cheek as his head moves to the side. White-hot pain sears up my arm from the hit but I don’t show it, instead, I take pride in the pain that showcases on Rodney’s face.

“Well, they’re quite literally nothing to me. After all of this, you’ll be nothing but a tally mark anyways,” I smirk, tongue coming out to swipe over my lips just to wet them before I nod to Zayn.

“Awe, have you gone silent all of a sudden, darling?” I coo, but there’s nothing nice about my tone. It’s dripping with sarcasm, staining my lips as I speak. Zayn wheels over the tray of tools, making sure Rodney gets a good look at what I have laying there.

I do this every time. The look of fear and impending doom on their face brings me joy.

“Why don’t we start with this, hm?” I question, grabbing one of the tools before I go into depth of just what it is to the man, holding eye contact with him as I do so. “Those little not-so pearly whites of yours?” My tongue clicks up against the roof of my mouth as I make an extracting motion. “Right out with these and I’ll do it one by one. Every now and then I’ll lay your head back so you choke on your own blood,” Rodney goes pale, his eyes looking from the tool in my hand to me. If only I could hear what was going through his head right now.

“I’ll do this for every lie that comes from those lips of yours until there are no teeth left. After all...” I drown off, looking between my boys then back to Rodney. “I think we all know you aren’t making it out of here alive, darling. So just make our lives easier by telling the truth, yeah? Make it easier for yourself as well,” I explain, moving to run my hand through his hair before grasping onto it and yanking his head back. “Say ah, baby. Hit it, Louis,” I speak right as I attach the extracting tool to one of his teeth and yank it right out, blood spurting everywhere.

Right as I do that, Louis’ cranks the music up and the sound of the Spice Girls fills the room on full blast.

At this point, I’m no longer surprised, but Rodney clearly is even though he’s groaning in pain, mouth quickly filling up with blood.

“So tell me what you want, what you really, really want..”

It’s hard not to bob my head along to the beat but somehow I manage, although Louis’ gives in and starts singing along to the track. So does Liam which is what surprises me the most. Spice Girls must tickle his fancy.

“So, Rodney. Two precious bunny teeth down.” I mutter, placing both of his front teeth down onto the medical tray along with the extraction tool. “Why don’t you tell me who you really work for because we all know it isn’t for Ivan,” I hum, yanking Rodney’s head back the second he opens his mouth so he’s gargling his own blood. A smirk grows on my lips as the music fades into the background as I watch Rodney struggle. “Don’t lie,” I warn, letting Rodney’s head go so that he can either swallow or spit the blood off to the side. There’s a drain underneath him so frankly, I don’t care where the blood lands. At the end of this, there won’t be a trace of him.

The blood lands near my feet as Rodney spits, lifting his head to look up at me as he once again fights against the restraints but he’s no match for them. He doesn’t even move the chair but that probably has to do with the fact that it’s one with the ground.

“Suck...my...fucking dick,” I stifle a few laughs as he speaks, knowing I shouldn’t find this funny but I can’t help it. The entire sentence was pronounced as ‘tuk my tucking tik.’

“Now, now. Maybe if you say please,” I push a grin up onto my lips, picking the tool up once more before my hand finds a home in his hair once more. “Last chance before you lose the bottom two, Rodney,”

Wannabe has faded off into Fergalicious and I can’t help but laugh because this happens every time. At least every time I let Louis control the music. If it’s me, it’s rock music such as AC/DC and Bon Jovi. If I let Liam control the music, he plays a plethora of different genres which I like. It lets me expand my music taste. Then there’s Zayn. I love giving Zayn the aux. He’ll play songs from back home and sit with me afterwards and explain the meaning. Some of those times are my fondest memories.

“Rodney, Rodney, Rodney...” I hum along to the beat of the song, letting the tool catch onto Rodney’s bottom teeth, yanking them out one after another in quick succession. The abruptness of it all is what causes the blood to quickly fill his mouth as I tug his head back further so that the blood hits the back of his throat and makes him choke.

At this point, extracting his teeth is getting boring so I move to let his bottom two teeth join the other two on the metal medical table. I also set the tool down, doing a cheeky little game of eenie meenie minie moe to choose my next tool.

“Moe..” I let out a slow breath of air, nodding Louis over as I pick up the mini blow torch. “Hand me your knife, Lou. You can join in if you want.” I smirk, taking the knife from Louis’ grasp and bringing the blow torch to the blade to light it up so that not only will it stop the bleeding of any cuts, but also make them more painful, which is exactly what I want.

The look that crosses Rodney’s face is one of realisation, the prayers tumbling from his lips at a faster rate which is just irritating me. Instead of begging me to spare his life, he’s asking to be saved.

“Wake up Rodney! You can beg, cry or scream yet no one is going to fucking save you.” I spit, returning the little gift he gave me earlier by spitting directly into his space--except he doesn’t have the luxury of cleaning it off.

“So quit praying. You know what...” I drown off, finally straightening up my spine so that I’m really focusing on Rodney. “Now that I think about it, why don’t I just rough you up a bit. Have my fun and then hand-deliver you to Ivan, no? I bet he would love to hear all about how you have also double-crossed the Russian mafia,” I smirk, watching as Rodney’s entire face falls upon the realisation.

“You wouldn’t,” Blood lands by my feet, nearly landing directly on my shoe as he speaks which makes me take a slow step back. I already have blood all over my hands, I don’t want to toss out another good pair of shoes.

“Oh, but I would. There’s only one genuine liar in this room and I’m looking right at that person,” I state, turning the blow torch off before setting it gently back down onto the table that has my favourite tools on it that I keep in rotation.

The knife cuts straight through Rodney’s shirt but I don’t nick his skin just yet, I do however let him feel the heat that radiates from the knife.

“So, let’s try this again shall we?” I question, letting his shirt fall open with his chest and stomach now on display for me. “Who do you work for?”

If I didn’t know any better, I’d say Rodney and I are currently having a staring contest but I know he’s sizing me up. Trying to see if I will actually go through with the heated knife. This is my favourite part, they doubt me every time. The lengths I’ll go to. Everyone except my family is disposable to me. My boys and my sister are my family. Everyone else? Lesser than.

They’re no better than the shit that Louis had stepped in back in Monte Carlo.

Astar is...well she’s special. Not as easily disposable which I’m slowly starting to learn.

Why is she even entering my thoughts at a time like this? Little Devil has been a recurring thought the past few days. She surprises me at the worst and best of times yet I find that I don’t mind.

I tear myself from my thoughts whenever I hear Rodney answer, although it isn’t the answer I want because it’s a lie. He’s just repeated Ivan’s name as if that’s the answer I’m looking for and I can’t help but roll my eyes.

“You know, Rodney. I was hoping you were smarter than this, but it seems that the image I have created for you in my head just...doesn’t compare in the slightest,” I grit out through clenched teeth. “You’re fucking pathetic,” And with that I place the knife right up against his collar bone, dragging it down towards his sternum. The flesh burns right before my eyes, making me want to gag at the smell but I hold back for now. This is a lot easier said than done because it smells like ass.

Rodney’s nose scrunches up in pain, his hands clenching and unclenching as his head rolls back and he lets out one of the most ear-piercing screams I’ve ever heard. His chest is heaving up and down in quick succession, the beads of sweat constantly slipping down his forehead. This facade that he’s trying to keep up is slowly breaking before me.

“Do you want to try to answer with the truth for once?”

The wound doesn’t bleed since the heated up serrated blade has cauterised the cut. Which is a shame, the way skin looks with blood tainting it is a picture in of itself.

“MI6.” He breathes out which makes me pause, my hand stilling as I grip onto the knife.

His voice was so quiet that I barely even heard him. I glance around at the other three boys, seeing if they heard what he said but none of them have really moved.

“Speak up,” I push at his forehead, making a slight face whenever I feel just how much he’s sweating.

“I work for the fucking government,” He repeats, making his voice louder just for me once he has his breathing under control. Or at least somewhat under control because his chest is still rising and falling pretty fast.

This is new information because out of all of the options I didn’t expect MI6. My theory was someone undercover for another gang, wanting to yank everything out from under Ivan and take this money from the drop for themselves.

But no, it was a fucking sting operation.

“Interesting...” I breathe out, suddenly finding this conversation even more intriguing because I have a federal agent before me. A secret federal agent at that.

“Thought a federal agent undergoes special training for torture scenarios like this,” I question, genuinely curious and it probably shows in my voice because the look Rodney gives me is one of pure confusion.

“I’m neither answering nor denying that,” Typical government answer. Although, I don’t think Rodney has been in MI6 long. I’m damn near positive they go through extensive training on how to dissociate and go somewhere else during times like this as to not let secrets slide.

Either that or MI6 is getting sloppy with their training methods and just throwing fresh meat out to the big dogs.

Two beeps sound out from behind me, which makes a small chuckle fall from my lips as I glance at Liam who is close to the staircase. At least close enough.

Two beeps. Astar’s awake and she let her curiosity get the best of her.

For now, I pretend that I don’t know she’s watching, keeping my attention on Rodney for now.

“Tell me, Rodney,” His eyes aren’t on me though, they’re no doubt glued to Astar who must be doing a shit poor job at concealing herself if Rodney has caught her.

There seems to be a small look of shock on Rodney’s face or I’m seeing things. I’m most likely seeing things because the next minute I’m pressing the knife right into Rodney’s other collarbone and dragging it down to meet the other cut, watching as they form the perfect line. It’s disturbingly beautiful in a way, then again my work is always perfect.

Such a shame that no one except my boys get to see it.

I lean down so that my lips are right up against his ear, “Why don’t you tell me what an MI6 agent is doing standing in for Ivan, hm? How long have you been undercover in the Russian mafia?” I question, pulling back right as I also withdraw the knife so that it’s no longer digging into his skin and no doubt hitting his ribcage at this point.

“Kiss my ass,” He bites out, snarling his nose at me. Rodney’s knuckles are gripping onto the end of the chair so tight that they have since turned white, his head leaning back against the chair to stare up at the cement ceiling.

I go to place the knife on the centre of his chest but stop when he opens his mouth to speak as if he’s thought better of what he should say.

“Thought it was public knowledge that MI6 has a most wanted list and Ivan is pretty far up there, no?” He questions in a sarcastic manner, a chuckle falling from his lips. He’s hysterical, laughing in a manic way in the chair as brings his head down to make eye contact with me. “Harry Edward Styles. Leader of the Devil’s Tribe. You think you’re so fucking untouchable don’t you?” He coos, catching me slightly off guard in the sudden change of not only confidence but personality.

Looks like I’m not the only one that’s good at hiding behind masks. His shy and fragile personality was a front for this cocky son of a bitch.

My hand twitches at my side, not appreciating the condescending tilt to his voice.

Instead of responding the way he thinks I will, I decide to let Astar know that her hiding spot isn’t the best of hiding spots. I slowly lay the knife down on the table, wiping the blood off on a washcloth that is laying to the side and watching as the white linen material turns blood red. What a pretty sight.

“You know...” I speak out to absolutely no one in particular, “I didn’t expect my little devil to enjoy playing hide and seek so much,” I sigh, letting my head move from side to side as I place the washcloth back down, not caring that my hands are stained red despite the piss poor clean up I just did.

Before I can even get another word in, the bastard that’s quite literally on his death bed before me decides to open his mouth to speak.

“Oh...Is that the next slut you’re fucking? Aren’t you known for that, Styles? Fucking a new girl every night?” He smirks, and a part of me is a bit confused. It’s like he’s egging me on, wanting to get a reaction out of me the second I acknowledge Astar’s presence.

Does he have a death wish?

“What did you just call her?” I breathe out, getting stuck on the fact that he just called Astar a slut.

“Fucking speak up you neanderthal.” I spit, moving to wrap my hands around his throat and add pressure to his pressure points that supply oxygen to his brain.

If I were feeling kinky, I would’ve moved my hands up to cut off the blood supply but no, I’m only seeing red at this point and I can’t pinpoint why.

“I called her a fucking slut because that’s what she is,” He chokes out, continuing to spew a bunch of nonsense about my little devil.

“Show her who you are, Harry. Is she gonna end up like me?” He grits out, his face turning the shade of the blood that is staining his cheek from the cut Louis’ inflicted earlier. He’s gasping for air but unable to obtain any and before he even realises it he’s out. I keep my hands tight around his neck until I feel his pulse die out, leaving his now limp body tied to the chair.

🗡️

My chest rises and falls in quick succession as I take a step back, nodding at the three boys before I stand up straight.

“Oh...Astar...” I breathe out, looking down at my feet before I look up at the ceiling. I don’t turn to look at her just yet.

“I think it would be in your best interest to run.”

When I don’t hear any movement, I finally turn to look right at the girl who has a look of shock on her face as she stares at the dead man tied to the chair. Her gaze finally lands on me, making me stand a little straighter as I try to remember why I’m so upset in the first place.

“Run,” I manage to breathe out between clenched teeth.

Overview: Harry finds out that the man they met at the weapons drop was an undercover agent for MI6. Astar manages to get into not only the weapons vault but downstairs to the basement where Harry is torturing said MI6 agent. Harry realises...or not so much realises that he may or may not like Astar. (In my opinion, he’s just being a dumbass.)

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