fifteen | (money) is the anthem of success

I wake up in my little room feeling groggy and disgusting. I haven't gotten a good night's sleep since the last night I spent in my house. Harry is next to me though, his arms curled around me as they were last night when they fell asleep. The position I'm in makes me want to close my eyes and sleep all over again.

There's a knock on the door and my eyes widen as I smack Harry vigorously. He needs to wake up now before we're caught. I highly doubt we're allowed to sleep together.

"Guys?" I hear Louis and sigh in relief, Harry just beginning to open his eyes, "It's me, I know you're both in there."

"Hnngh?" He rubs his eyes and I somewhat feel compelled to kiss his nose. He blushes as I smile a little, getting up from the small bed and adjusting my appearance before opening the door.

"Hi," I say, "what's going...on? Is there something going on? I don't know, because you only seem to come here when--"

"The Director wants to see you," Louis explains, "he wants to see you and talk about Operation Blackarm."

"Operation Blackarm?"

"The reason why you're here."

"Oh..."

"It's not a scary meeting, I promise," Louis begins to assure me, turning to Harry, "bring him to floor 5 in thirty."

"I will." He replies before Louis smirks, finally giving us a proper look.

"What is it with you two?" He chuckles, "Boyfriends? Friends with benefits? I'm sure it's not the first thing on your mind, but... you know...?"

"No," I sigh, "and you're right; with all this, it's the last thing I'm thinking about."

"Okay," he says, "see you guys soon."

He shuts the door quietly and Harry looks up at my groggily.

"Did you think we weren't allowed to sleep in the same bed together?" He chuckles and I roll my eyes. What else was I supposed to think? That everything I want to do in this death trap is allowed?

"Hey," he whines, "it's not a death trap."

Whoops. That was not an inside thought.

"Sorry," I sigh, rubbing my forehead in agony, "I just want things to slow down."

"They will, as soon as we figure this whole thing out."

"Isn't it already figured out?"

"For us; not you. Now come on, get dressed, yeah?"

"There's nothing for me to get dressed in."

"Right," Harry nods, "they haven't gotten your clothes out yet. Come on then. They won't care if you're in the same clothes."

"Because I'm considered a basket case?"

"I never said that--"

"You were thinking it."

He sighs, shrugging his shoulders before helping me stand up steadily. Once I'm up and ready to go, he doesn't let go of my hand. In fact, he only holds it tighter as we leave the confines of my room and head towards the elevator. Going down to the fifth floor is something that frightens me, for sure. But Harry is by my side, and that surprisingly makes me feel just a bit better.

People look over at us as I pass by, but the firm grip on my side gives them more of a sign than they needed; I'm off limits. In any other situation, I would have made him let go of me and let me walk my own way, but right now, in this unexpected little predicament, I would rather have him by my side.

We arrive elevator and as Harry presses the '5' button, I open my mouth and begin to ask more questions.

"Do you think he'll try to kill me if we go down there?" I ask nervously, "I mean he did try to kill me before."

"He didn't try to kill you," Harry says as the door opens, "I did."

"But you wouldn't?"

"He--he trains us to be killing machines. I'm the flaw in the system. My emotions are still intact when they shouldn't be."

"Why do they have to be out of tact?"

"Because I can't--" he sighs, "I can't love. Love expresses attachment, and if someone knows I'm in love they could potentially get hurt Liam. What don't you understand about that?"

"Please Harry," I argue as the door shuts, "I may feel like a damsel in distress, but it's only because this is all so unfamiliar. You're completely underrating me! I can take care of myself! In fact,"

The door opens and as we step inside I make my proposition,

"Let me learn how to protect myself."

"No," Harry rejects me immediately, and I furrow my brows in anger, "that will just make you more of a target!"

"Or less--"

"Try more. If we train you, they'll know we want to protect you. If they know that, they only think of you as more valuable."

"Aren't I already being hunted?" I ask, "They're already after me! What could make it worse?! I don't even know who they are Harry--"

"Okay," he cuts me off, "rule number one of the fifth floor. You don't call me by that name. You call me Edward Harrison until we're in Director Axton's office."

"Why do I have to call you Edward?"

"Because there's prisoners down here," Harry explains, "if they hear my real real name, I'm dead. Right now, they don't think we use code names down here. And that's how we're gonna keep it."

"This makes no sense," I mumble, rubbing my forehead.

"I know love," he leans down to kiss my forehead but I pull away before his lips can reach me. The door opens and I'm greeting with a dark hallway. The only light in the hall comes from the prisoners cells, which are also white. I guess we're all crazy.

"Why is it so dark..." I whisper but he shakes his head.

"Ignore it," he whispers, his grip on my waist deathly tight, "it's just a quick walk. Don't look into the rooms and don't acknowledge any of the cat calls."

"Okay...?" I whisper back as we step out and begin our long walk to Director Axton's office. I'm anxious to meet him again and hope he doesn't have any weapons under his desk. Oh god; what am I saying? He's definitely going to have a weapon on him.

I close my eyes and lean into Harry's chest, hiding my face from the vibrant white rooms we pass as he speed walks us past them all. No one is shouting or screaming, so relief makes its reappearance and I look up from his shirt slowly, almost poking my head out until I see a man slam his shoulder into the glass the second he sees me. I recognize him almost immediately as the man who kidnapped me in my own house.

His mouth is taped shut with something that looks a lot stronger than the industrial tape they used on me. The red circles around his eyes are what immediately make me look away before Harry can turn my head for me. He really didn't want me locking eyes with any of these criminals. He's practically pushing my head into him as we approach the director's office.

"I'm going to go in first," he informs me, "Louis will call you in when we're all ready."

I nod and he attempts to kiss my forehead again, this time with my permission. His lips press to my forehead swiftly and the second he's gone, I miss his touch more than I did before. The door slams shut and leaves me in the eerie darkness of the prisoners' hall.

Unsure of what to do with myself, I wrap my arms around me and teeter back and forth on the balls of my feet. It's cold down here; way too cold for my liking. The entire building has a chill to it, but this is worse. It doesn't help that all that there's more than one homicidal psychopath and criminal down here.

The door creaks open and I feel my heart drop in consolation when I see Harry's green eyes pop out.

"He's ready for you," he says, before whispering in a quieter tone, "don't be scared. He can smell fear."

"Good," I mutter, opening the door wider as a guard takes the place of Harry. When the door shuts behind me I see a huge flight of stairs. I thought this entire place was underground?

Harry disappears up the stairs and the guard rests his hand right above my lower back, leading me to follow him. Why in the hell would they tell me that this is underground, if it leads right back up to the surface?

Maybe it's meant to mislead? If people thought that his office was underground, then they wouldn't go to the building next door to find him? Because this is the only answer I really have, I assume it's the right one. As I climb up the flight of many, many, many stairs, I begin to assume that the building isn't connected to the base. It would make sense in the end; if the building isn't near the base, one won't go along with the other if attacked.

"Mr. Payne, we've arrived."

I look up and my hand shakes as I reach up to open the glass door. As I push it open, the guard stops me, causing me to pull my hand away quickly. He opens the door for me instead and leaves it wide open for me to see inside. The first person I see is Louis, standing behind where the door pulls out. Then Harry, and then the leading man himself; Director Axton.

"Liam, how are you feeling?" his booming voice asks me as I'm escorted into his office. The room is modernized and feels a bit too technological to be homey in any sense. Harry stands across from the director, and Louis stands by the door. I want Harry to look back at me, but he keeps his eyes straightforward. Though he refuses to look at me, I see the pain filling him to the brim. It's evident that this situation is more than uncomfortable for the both of us.

It's killing me too Harry.

But it's most likely killing me more.

"Decent," I respond quietly, "other than almost being shot."

"We apologize for that--"

"No you don't." I say, turning to him, "Please don't apologize if your words mean shit."

He nods, turning his chair as he presses a button behind him.

"Please, refrain from cursing in the future when speaking to me."

Pretentious bastard. I'll curse whenever and however I want to, thank you.

A hologram that fills the room surrounds me and I jump in fright as I'm enveloped in names and codes. Soon those random numbers and letters turn into faces.

"There's a reason why you're here Liam," Director Axton says, getting up from his chair, "we're not just holding you here hostage for no reason. There's more to the story than that."

"Then tell it."

"You're being hunted; you and your family. Well, let me rephrase that. You're the one being hunted, but in order to track you, they're tracking your family."

"For what?" I ask, fiddling with my fingers as my bare feet freeze against the cold floor. I look at Harry again, but he completely avoids me this time around.

"For what everyone seems to care about," he mumbles quietly before zooming in on one name, "money."

I recognize the man that hovers in mid-air almost immediately. His name is Irwin Matthews. He was one of the wealthiest businessmen in the world. He was number one; had all the money he could ask for. When I heard he died in a car accident, I felt the world tumble.

"Irwin Matthews?" I look at the photo, "He's--"

"Was, the richest man in the world." Axton interrupts me, "He was murdered two years ago by Death Match. Since then--"

"Who is Death Match!?" I ask, "Because I have been asking that question since I got here, and I have not gotten one answer. All I know is that they want to kill me."

Axton looks at Harry and Louis and they both keep their eyes trained on the ground.

"It's like you two don't do anything here other than kill," he sighs, "Louis was supposed to inform you of Death Match if Harry hadn't completed the job. As we all know now, he failed to protect you in the end--"

"Hey," Harry suddenly speaks up, alarming me, "he's alive, isn't he?"

"Well, yes but--"

"So stop bashing on me!" He exclaims, "I'm already pardoned. You don't need to keep reminding me that I failed the mission."

It sounds like he committed a mortal sin, falling in love with me. Well, I guess that's how it's being portrayed here, in this universe I know so little about.

The director glares at him lightly before turning back to me. I can tell that this is what it's going to be like until the mission is over, and I'm walking (or being carried) out of this underground prison. Yes, I have pretty much accepted that my life isn't as guaranteed as I thought it was.

"Death Match is a group of assassins, created in 1946 by Graham Richardson. The organization's reign has now been handed to Drake Heliot. We learned this only a few weeks ago."

The name means nothing to me right now. I've never even met anyone named Drake. I mean, I know Drake the rapper, but not anyone else. Oh my god. What if the criminal is Drake? He uses teenage girls to manipulate others and makes them call him Champagne Papí to serve as a codename--

Okay no. No, that's not happening, and I'm crazy.

"Drake took up leadership of Death Match when he was twenty two in 2012."

"Where is this guy now?"

"We aren't sure," Axton tells me, flipping through holograms, "but we do know a few things. Mr. Styles, if you would?"

Harry's hands unfurl from behind his back as he walks up to stand next to me. His finger reaches up to turn the small sphere in the center and turns the hologram around to show a map. The map shows all of London in it's entirety with at least 60 red dots in various areas.

"What is this?" I ask.

"London," he tells me what I already know, "and all these red dots are the units around us that are on watch for any of Drake's accomplices."

"Do you knew where they are?"

Harry presses the orb in the center again and green dots appear, overpowering the red ones.

"These are the assumed location of Drake's accomplices," he sighs, "as you can see, we're outnumbered."

"Good or bad?"

"What do you think?" Louis pipes up with a smirk that I can't exactly identify as sarcastic or insulting.

"Sorry," I mumble, folding my hands tightly together as Harry continues.

"We have people watching your family at home as well," he explains, "but right now? They want you."

"Why?"

"When Irwin Matthews died, his inheritance became attainable. We think this was Death Match's motive in the first place; to retrieve that money. Since then, they've been killing off every person that's eligible for the money because Drake just happens to be the last heir for the money."

"And why am I involved?"

"Because you're the next lined up heir that isn't dead."

"What?!" I exclaim. Hearing that I'm related to the man that was the most successful man to date is something I would have liked to know before this all happened.

"Your family knew how dangerous this was, providing you with this information. So they kept it a secret from you."

"Oh my god," I whisper, pulling at my hair, "this is why I got attacked at my house?"

"Yes."

"But why were they asking for Edward Harrison?!" I ask, flustered.

"Harry was spotted with you in Spain. There are more organizations after you than you think. Their train of thought follows a certain regime. If they are able to capture you, they have Death Match wrapped around their finger. All Death Match wants is you dead. If someone, say, the men that attacked you in your home, are holding you hostage, their hostage, you better believe Death Match will come out and seek their enemy."

"What's stopping them from doing that to you right now?"

"We overpower them. They overpower everyone else, but we are stronger in numbers and weapons count. As for weapons effectiveness...they've got an upper hand."

"Wait but," I groan, running a hand down my face as tears prick at the corner of my eyes, "what's the plan here?! What are you guys going to do to help me?"

"We're helping you right now Liam," Louis explains calmly, "you down here is the best way to protect you."

"We think that Drake's initial plan for the money is to go after world powers," Director Axton continues explaining the situation, "so we've narrowed our options down to two."

"Which are?"

"Kill Drake," Harry begins speaking now, and I turn to him as he does the same, "and watch Death Match loose control and disperse as we catch them gradually, or find their weapons vault. Without weapons, there is no Death Match. They can't commit the crimes they do without their weapons."

"Which are we going to go with?"

"We're currently trying to locate their weapons bunker," Director Axton says, "and I believe we have found a location. But if we act too quickly, Drake may be able to have to upper hand and track us."

"So that means you can't just go in and search the place," I conclude.

"Correct, and well, the confirmed location we have is under Prince Rafael's palace."

"Prince Rafael?"

"Yep," Louis says, moving from his post by the door and tapping yet another section of the hologram, "The Prince of Monaco, as we discovered just yesterday actually, is Drake's brother. Drake has no idea we know this information, which gives us quite the advantage."

"So are you going to go there...?" I ask, still somewhat lost on the plan.

"With this new information, we are slowly forming the plan yes, but it's not quite--"

Beeping comes from the computers around Director Axton's chair and all three of them rush to the screens as the blaring continues.

"What?" I ask frantically, "What's happening?!"

"We lost Unit 6 and 10," Louis whispers, "they're moving in on the house."

"Who's house?!"

Director Axton points to Louis, who straightens up almost immediately at the command of his head officer.

"Take your quadrant of assassins out there now. They need back-up."

Louis mutters a hasty 'yes sir' before dashing out of the office. Harry stands at one of the computers, talking into a microphone and tapping at the screens. I hear short phrases about front-line attacks and land level and suddenly become extremely afraid.

"Whatever you do, get them out of there." Harry mutters into the mic before he steps away.

"What's going on?" I whimper, and Director Axton leaves his office as he comes to console me. He wraps his arms around my shoulders and pulls me close to him. I'm inhaling his smell as he whispers the haunting words I know I'll remember for a long time.

"Your family has been in a safe house we have in the country," he explains, "but Death Match found them. They've...they've planted land mines."