Later, after the sun had gone down, Harbor arrived at Harold's preferred safehouse. Shaw opened the re-enforced door without a single word, just a knowing smile as she closed the door behind the escort and marched after her friend though to where Harold sat amongst a mass of laptops at the dining table; Bear had curled up adorably at his feet. Clearly Reese spotted her first because he ground to a halt, Beretta in numerous pieces before him on the table. The sudden end to metal clanking got the bespectacled man to peer up from his screens; Harold fell equally as quiet. Two sets of eyes raked over Harbor, neither ogled or lusted, but they'd certainly taken notice of her dress. Black midi dress, tight with long sleeves, however, what it covered of her arms and legs the dress certainly made up for with the almost intoxicating display of her breasts. Harbor didn't scream prostitute though, elegant was more like it.
Harold let his blue eyes fall from her chest to her slender hips and all the way down to her feet, he smirked softly to himself, she was wearing the heels he'd given her. To both Shaw and Reese, they were just shoes but Finch couldn't get over the slight … claim they gave him to her. Oh, wasn't that a sentence that needed unpacking.
Sameen folded her arms in front of her chest and rolled her eyes. "Put your tongues away boys."
The girls shared a smirk. "I take it I pass the 'does she look like a high-class escort' test."
The two men snapped out of it as subtly as they could, but it had been so obvious that astronauts had probably taken notice. Reese had darkened into Mister tall, dark and smouldering which had been sexy in a gruff sort of way, while Hank had been half open mouthed. Harbor doubted Sameen would have understood why that was sexy but Sameen didn't need – or want – to know. That look meant his brain had shut off long enough to make his mask fall and his mind was too focused on what his talented fingers could do to her; and Harbor knew exactly what those hands were capable of.
"You sure about doing this?" Reese asked to give her a way of backing out.
Harbor nodded; she'd do it, she wasn't scared. "I'm okay. The thing about being an escort is that they love you for everything they hate you for. Doesn't matter who you send in there, if they're not a whore they won't know that so they can't use it to their advantage."
Finch quickly rose to his feet then, he truly didn't like it when Harbor referred to herself as a 'whore', and grabbed a few things while he tried to focus on the task at hand. He carried over a thumb drive and an earpiece in a transparent box.
"You'll need these." He told her softly. Reese suddenly managed to get his hands moving again and went back to assembling his Beretta. "Just copy the files onto this. We'll be able to talk to you the whole time."
Harbor let the elder man slip the earpiece into her right ear and secretly enjoyed the gentle caress of his calloused fingers as they brushed her hair behind her ear.
"Don't be nervous." Offered Reese as he slid the magazine back into his weapon.
The emerald-eyed beauty cast a smile over her shoulder. "I'm not nervous, apart from coping files this is what I do most days."
That was true. When asked a basic member of the public would have responded simply with 'have sex' when asked what they thought an escort did, but that wasn't all of it. Yes, Harbor had sex with men on a semi-permanent basis but she also told a tale, sold a story, played out a fantasy. Her job was to be the epitome of desire; Aphrodite personified. If a client wanted daddy's little girl, that is what Harbor became. So no, Harbor's job wasn't just to have sex with men. In truth Harbor Caldwell was a chameleon and very fucking good at it.
Sameen breathed out a laugh as she leant against the wall. "Girl got attitude, I like it."
"You're only not worried because you've seen me shoot and insisted I start learning how to kill a man with his own coat."
Harold's eyes went wide with sudden concern, or maybe it was panic. One Harbor and one Shaw was enough he didn't need two Shaws.
"You're teaching her that?!" Finch would have been ashamed to admit it but his voice did rise a few octaves more than he'd intended.
"Hey, she needs to know how to protect herself," Sameen shrugged, "especially if she's screwing you. You have your own gravitational pull for danger."
Oh Finch hated that he couldn't really argue with Shaw because damn did he want to. The elder man also wasn't too pleased about the term 'screwing' but found it annoyingly accurate despite the vulgarity of it.
Through the rest of the time it took them to get the raven-haired beauty prepared, Harold kept his mind firmly focused on what Shaw had said and that she was right, danger did just follow him around the same way it followed Mister Reese and Shaw herself. He'd never wanted to put Harbor in any danger but there she was dressed up for him – and not in a way he wanted – prepared to fully step over the threshold into his world. Finch had tried so many different ways to get into Luc Boucheron's hotel room without alerting the guards but no, Harbor was their best bet. She'd said it herself as well, she wasn't playing a prostitute, Harbor actually was one. All she was doing was performing a little side task. Yes, that was how Harold decided to think of it; sounded safer.
Slowly they repeated everything for her, liked to get it all a hundred percent straight in their minds. Once it was Harbor crouched to tickle Bear's ears then pressed a gentle kiss to Harold's cheek.
It was show time.
~X~
When they arrived at the large hotel Harbor had gone directly to the bar while Shaw had taken up a position in the lobby to watch the main entrance, the elevators and have a fair view of Harbor. Reese though, he needed to be close so sat himself at the opposite end of the long marble bar and ordered a drink. Not only was Harbor an asset but John knew that if anything happened to the young woman Harold's aversion to violence might just fade away. John couldn't blame his boss, had he been in love with a woman like Harbor he'd have done just about anything to keep her safe as well. Of course John would have admitted he loved her and … nope! On a mission, I don't have time to think about the oblivious idiot I work for. All John knew for sure was that if Harold kept this shit up he was going to die of old, lonely motherfucker.
Meanwhile Harold watched via the hotel's security cameras, he could see every angle of the bar including the one that gave him a stunning view down her dress; of course Harold didn't look. Usually he'd have run things from The Library but the safehouse had been closer to the hotel and Hank had an urge to be on hand should anything go wrong.
The Frenchman entered the bar then. Finch had quickly learnt just how partial their target was to a night cap and knew he'd been in the bar before long. His brown eyes flicked around the large room as they noticed a few women before they eventually settled on Harbor. She played it cool though and casually turned around to give him her back.
"Oh she's good." He told his fellow ex-agent and Harold through the comms.
"What, Mister Reese? She's not done anything."
Reese rolled his eyes because seriously how could a genius be this blind?
"Nah, Finch, she flashed him the eye and now gave him her back. She's enticing him. Ooh, and it worked, he's on his way to you, Harbor."
Sure enough when Harold peered at the cameras he could see the tall, enigmatic, blond as he strode through the bar and sat down on the stool to her left. Harbor had to have just set some sort of record for luring a man in.
"What does a beautiful girl like you drink, I wonder?" Luc asked in a thick French accent.
Slowly she turned her head towards the tall man in his expensive suit and peered at him through her long lashes that came with that trademark smile of hers, the one that could have melted even the most hardened man. She really was the sort of girl who could have turned a gay straight. She sparkled those polished emeralds at him.
"Tell you what, you guess and if you get it right I'll let you buy it for me."
The blond man chuckled as his eyes momentarily flicked down to her chest then back up. It took only a second for him to nod.
Sameen breathed out that toneless laugh of hers while her friend continued to work. She'd got a perfect view of Harbor from her spot in the lobby, could see straight over the half wall.
"Damn she's good. Hook, line and sinker." A pause, momentary and hardly there. "Didn't take her for a champagne drinker though."
"That's because she isn't." Said Harold through their earpieces without realizing he'd spoken. "Harbor favors either a Black Russian or bourbon."
Reese ran a hand down his face, Harold knew her favorite drink but couldn't espy that he was in love with the woman. How deep did Harold's denial go?
"Maybe the government should start training escorts as covert operatives rather than military, it takes years to teach agents how to seduce so smoothly." Said Reese in an attempt to move the conversation away from his inner thoughts.
"Somehow I don't think assassin would be a good career move for Harbor."
"Reese saw Harbor flick her earpiece off, then again, he supposed it was easier for her to work without the three of them prattling in her ear incessantly.
"Oh don't be so defensive about your girlfriend, Harold." Grumbled Shaw only for Harold to snap back quickly.
"She's not my girlfriend, Miss Shaw."
"We could use partner if you want or Lady Friend but that's a bit old-fashioned."
Maybe constant smashes of the obvious were what Finch needed, like when detectives sat all the photographs and evidence in front of their suspects.
"There is nothing between us." Harold continued to insist as they all kept an eye on Harbor and Mister Boucheron.
"Finch, I suspect there's not room for anything between you."
They practically heard Shaw shudder through their comm channel, or maybe it was more of a recoil in disgust.
"Oh great, now that mental image is in my head forever."
"Could we perhaps get-"
Harold's irritation got cut off when Reese slipped back into his stoic, authoritative tone that said he was working and had no time for anything else.
"She's on the move. Yeah, heading towards the elevators."
Back at the safehouse Finch raised an eyebrow. "Already?"
Shaw shrugged. "Girl's quick."
It was then Harbor casually turned her earpiece back on so she could hear her three friends. She'd needed the silence back at the bar, Luc wasn't easily readable and the quiet had always helped. Harbor heard Sameen say something about being able to see her as Luc escorted her to the elevator bank with an arm possessively around her waist.
Harbor had to admit she'd always had a soft spot for a man in a suit but something about Luc was off-putting. He had the perfectly styled hair, bold brown eyes, chiseled jaw, height nearing that of a Nodic giant and just as broad shoulders. He was everything a woman was supposed to want but Harbor couldn't shake the voice in the back of her head that said he wasn't good. Too perfect, perfect to the point of hiding something. Harold had said they didn't know if Mister Boucheron was a victim or a perpetrator but Harbor knew where she'd put her money. Escorts always made a better judged of men than anyone else did. She didn't like that self-satisfied smirk on his slightly stubbled face either. Still, despite all that Harbor was there to do a job, to help Finch, and she'd damn well do it.
"Shame you're not the concierge." Harbor said through the earpiece quietly and it got a questioning hum from Luc that she managed to shrug off.
Harold, however, didn't. He'd gone straight back to the day they'd met.
Boucheron didn't really seem to care that Harbor had spoken since he was far more focused on kissing down her neck the second the elevator doors had rolled shut. She'd let him push her up against the mirrored wall and rolled her eyes when he just slammed the penthouse button with his elbow. Harbor let him do as he pleased, this was her world, what she did for a living, he wanted to be the one to take the lead … so she allowed it. Harbor peppered little kisses along his jaw and mewed in the right places but her eyes stayed locked on the camera up in the opposite corner the whole time; wasn't like Harbor would forget Finch saw it all.
The elevator let out a ping and the doors rolled open sooner than Harbor had imagined but she didn't drop out of character for a single second. Luc leant back and released her with a hungry smile as he took her hand and lead her towards the penthouse door.
"Mister Reese, Miss Shaw," began Finch "Harbor is now at the penthouse door."
Both quickly acknowledged the information while Harbor stayed quiet.
Two guards stood outside the large, black, penthouse door. The taller one looked burly and unfriendly while the other seemed dead on the inside.
"What sort of developer has armed guards stationed outside his hotel door?" Harold mused to himself; he'd been trying to figure that out since he'd learned of the guards.
Harbor put on a confident smile and shuffled closer to Luc. "Thought you said you were in development." She said to try and get an answer for the tech genius. "You need guards for that?"
Reese, Shaw and certainly Harold noticed the little chuckle she gave to make it sound as though the subject wasn't overly important to her. However, instead of the information she'd – they'd – wanted all Harbor got was a handsy French guy squeezing her ass. Harold hated seeing her manhandled.
"Do if you're naughty." Boucheron finally replied.
She made sure to grin like she cared for his attempts at humor and wasn't put on edge my his mere presence. Harbor pressed herself against him as she ignored the two guards so Luc could feel all of her.
"Ahh," she smirked, "you're a bad boy. I like that."
The French asshole yanked her by the hand towards his door but his guards stopped him before he could get there.
"You'll have to hand over your cellphone, Miss." The taller one ordered. "And let us check your bag."
Luc sighed and when Harbor didn't instantly obey he gestured at her to hurry the hell up. Yeah, perfect gentleman, her mind grumbled. Harbor was reluctant but this was the only way she'd get inside the penthouse, the only way she'd get to what she needed, so she fished it out of her small clutch bag and handed it over then she flashed them the inside of her bag so they could see it was just boring old make up and 'girl crap'. The guard with the dead eyes took a step towards her.
"Need to check you for weapons."
Harbor laughed incredulously. "Seriously?" She held her arms out to show off her outfit. "In this dress where the hell do you think I'm going to hide a gun? I couldn't hide a breath mint."
Luc glared at his guards then and the two men realized that not only was the boss getting irritated but Harbor indeed couldn't have hidden a gun, a knife or anything else in such a tight dress. They backed down.
As soon as she stepped through the door Harold lost sight of Harbor on the cameras, there weren't any in the penthouse although not all was lost, with her phone outside he could listen to the guards. However, he quickly decided he wasn't a fan of their conversation when the words 'slut' and 'whore' started getting thrown about.
"Harbor, since your phone is out in the hall I can't listen in. I'll need you to tell me anything you see or need that's relevant. If you need help just call out. Cough for me if you understand." Nothing, not a single sound, just deafening silence. "Harbor? Harbor, can you hear me?"
The connection should have still been open despite her being away from her phone.
"Finch, what's happening?" Reese asked quickly when the bespectacled man started to mutter under his breath and the sound of him hitting keys became audible.
"Signal jammer. He's got the whole penthouse jammed. Oh, that's smart and I don't like that I didn't see it coming. We can't talk to Harbor and she can't talk to us."
Shaw sighed. "So she's alone. Great job, Harold."
"This is not my fault."
Christ, sometimes Reese felt like a father keeping his kids from fighting. If Harold hadn't already paid him more than he could ever spend Reese would have demanded a raise.
"Quit bickering like ten-year olds." He all but hissed. "How do we know if she needs us?"
Then Harold was back to work doing what he did best, using that massive brain of his to solve any problem. Reese might have been a scalpel, Shaw may have been the hammer but Finch was undoubtedly the mastermind getting them where they needed to go.
"Em, yes, right, okay. I can still see the guards, they're armed and … yes, there's only two of them. No others have gone in or since Mister Boucheron took up residence."
"How do you know?" Sameen asked sceptically.
"I simply rushed through the camera footage for the penthouse hallway." A pause, tiny. "I trust you've been teaching Harbor well, Miss Shaw?"
"Of course." She answered quickly.
"Then Harbor will put up one hell of a fight and the guards will hear it." Finch cursed; himself or the others no one quite knew. "If I see them move even an inch you get in the elevator and I'll bring you up to the penthouse."
Reese raked a hand down his face while he continued to sit at the bar amongst the other patrons.
"We'll take too long to get up there. Shaw and I will move to the floor directly below and hang out there."
"Moving now." Added Sameen in agreement.
They'd been the ones to put Harbor in this position, they sure as hell weren't going to let anything happen to her.