"Did you steal these from our wardrobes?" Isabella chuckled, pulling her thigh length, beige coat over her thin, grey jumper. Hattie walked out beside her, in a more professional looking outfit, fastening the buttons on the cuffs of her jacket with an awaiting look on her face. 

Isabella had spent the last five minutes wiping down her face so it was clean of blood and hurriedly covering the bruising with concealer which fortunately she found in the cupboard they had in the back room. It was old and drying out, but it did the job for now. There was some mascara too, which fortunately made her look a little less like death. 

"Probably just what was left over from all of his one night stands." Owen ridiculed with a smirk etched on his face, sorting out whatever was in his black bag. The girls pulled a face as Deckard sent an ominous glare to his brother, "Why don't you just shut your mouth before I shut it for you." 

"Oh, come on. Can you not go two seconds without winding each other up?" Isabella intervened, letting her eyes wonder over the spare laptops and electronics that crowded the desk. If she could borrow one of those, the sky was the limit. Fortunately for the group, both Owen and Deckard quietened down, giving everyone time to prepare for the journey ahead. 

"Take any, I know you want one." Dec appeared beside the blonde, after watching her gaze at the equipment longingly. Isabella looked up at him quizzically, trying to see if his offer was genuine, "Really?"

He nodded, laughing at the shocked expression on her face as she turned back to pick the laptop her heart desired most. After settling on a Microsoft one, she checked the apple watch on her wrist, clarifying that it was still usable after the fight, and thankfully it was. With her watch and a computer, Isabella could hack into anything. 

"We need to get going." Deckard announced, grabbing his bag and passing another one to Isabella who thanked him automatically, not even knowing what was inside. Hattie, Isabella and Owen piled into the back of a black range rover that they rarely ever used, whilst Hobbs and Deckard jumped into the front in quick time. 

"Here." Owen reached into his bag, pulling out a packet of biscuits, the ones that Isabella had specifically asked for. As he handed them to the women, she smiled ecstatically, clutching the red and white bag to her chest with glee. "Thank you, you're the best."  

"I know how you love your lotus biscuits." Owen grinned, zipping up his bag and kicking it under the seat below him whilst Hobbs turned back to watch the girl in confusion, "So can I just ask who you actually are?" 

Isabella snapped her head up, exchanging a glance with Deckard in the mirror as he drove them to the closest airport in London. "I'm Isabella Ford." She responded calmly, offering Hattie a biscuit which she took happily. 

"That means nothing to me." Hobbs announced tactlessly and Isabella lifted a snack to her mouth with a snarky grin, "Good, because you mean nothing to me." 

******

"Next!" The security man called Isabella forwards, nodding courteously to her as she handed over her passport, "Bree Parker?" He asked with clenched eyebrows as Isabella smiled convincingly, "That's me." She shrugged, letting off a carefree aura in hope to hurry the man along. 

The guy peered up at her carefully as she began to feel annoyed by the thorough examination. Hattie and Owen had already got through security without a hitch and she knew that Deckard was watching anxiously behind her. If any of them got caught, that could be it. Hattie would die and the world would be taken over by the virus that she had been told about on the car journey.

It also made sense why Eteon attacked her house, they wanted to claim the virus back and they believed that was a place that Hattie would run to. Obviously they misjudged the situation. 

Although is wasn't her fault, Hattie couldn't help but feel entirely guilty for the attack on her best friend, and apologised frequently on every step of the journey to the airport. Isabella didn't lay a single bit of blame on her at all. 

As the security guard continued to hold eye contact, Isabella tapped her foot impatiently, urging him with a fake smile, "Am I free to go?" She giggled falsely, holding out her hand for the passport as he snapped out of his daze and stamped the page. His cheeks flushed as he sent her a small apology before sending Isabella on her way. 

As she strolled through the railings, she turned her head back to spot Deckard, sharing a puzzled look before she ran into Owen and Hattie. "What took you so long?" The younger Shaw brother questioned, to which Isabella shrugged with an unsure look on her face, "Who knows." 

Suddenly, Isabella felt a hand appear on the small of her back, ushering her and the others along, "We need to go now." Deckard urged, grabbing Isabella's hand to pull her towards their allocated gate. 

"But what about Hobbs?" Hattie challenged just as a deafening alarm blared, alerting everyone nearby that something was wrong. Everybody in the surrounding area turned to stare at the giant of a man who tried to cover up his annoyance with a confused smile.

Guards dressed in blue uniforms began swarming the floor whilst Hobbs stood in the centre, remaining calm with his arms up. Isabella couldn't help but feel bad for him and she turned to face the man beside her with a disappointed look, "You set him up?" 

Deckard sighed at her expression, receiving another unhappy glare from his sister, "He was going to slow us down. We can do this without him." He explained, forcing the group to join the line as the plane began boarding. 

"He's right." Owen agreed, repositioning his bag on his shoulder, leading Hattie towards the desk as she watched Hobbs being bustled away by the wardens with a slight hint of dismay in her eyes.

"But that's Mike Oxmaul." The man who checked his passport shouted supportively, but not even Deckard could find it in himself to laugh at the stupid joke. 

Clearly annoyed by her brother's antics, Hattie snatched her arm away, strolling up to the desk with her boarding pass before heading down to the plane without so much as a glance backwards. "I think you pissed her off." Owen muttered obviously to which Isabella and Deckard both turned to him with vexed expressions. 

"You think?" Deckard sneered, grabbing Isabella's hand once more, leading her to the desk politely before escorting her onto the plane, leaving Owen to sulk like a child behind them. 

As they walked down the narrow isle, Isabella counted the seat numbers closely, trying to find her allocated spot when she felt someone grab her arm unexpectedly, "Hey beautiful." A man in his thirties with a bundle of brunette locks smiled at her creepily from his seat as Isabella stood awkwardly, unsure of how to respond. 

"She's married." Deckard intervened swiftly from behind her petite figure, removing the man's hand firmly, almost chucking it back at him whilst gesturing for her to keep travelling down the aisle. 

Isabella nodded thankfully, carrying on towards a row of empty seats that Hattie was climbing across to sit down with a solemn look on her face. "He's just trying to do his best by you, that's all." Isabella clarified as she stopped near Hattie, sending her a soft smile before Deckard appeared beside her. She thanked him as he took her bag from her, pushing it up into the overhead lockers whilst the blonde perched beside her best friend tentatively.

Deckard sent Hattie a small smile, one that pleaded for forgiveness as he sat in the seat in front of her, looking to his left as Owen sat beside him. "This is going to be the worst four hours of my life." He mumbled under his breath, attempting to lean on the armrest before Owen shoved him off in annoyance. 

"Nope, there's not a chance that I'm sitting next to you this whole flight. I will not do it." Dec complained, standing up from his chair as if he had somewhere else to go. Isabella sighed heavily, sending Hattie a sorrowful glance before rising from her seat. 

"For goodness sake, Owen sit here." She offered, moving aside to let Owen perch beside his sister who complained at them both thoroughly for being a bunch of drama queens. 

Deckard moved aside, allowing Isabella to slide into the second seat across before he slouched happily in the aisle chair, claiming the arm rest to himself with a smug grin, "Honestly, you can't help yourself, can you?" Isabella reasoned, "You're supposed to be the oldest, don't rise to the bait." 

Deckard rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair, "Do you know how infuriating he is?" His voice was low, not wanting to be heard by his siblings in the row behind him as Isabella returned a sly look, "But fine, I'll call a truce just until this is all over." 

Isabella grinned, pulling him into a side hug joyfully before relaxing in her chair. "Thank you." She muttered softly, "For earlier too." She gestured down the plane, referring to the man who bothered her on the way in. 

"It's nothing, don't worry about it." Dec responded, returning a smile as he squeezed her hand lightly. He could swear that he had smiled more in the past few hours with Isabella than he had in the past year. "How are you feeling now?" He gestured to her injuries from earlier on that day, which she'd almost forgotten about. 

"Fine I think, a bit sore I guess..." She explained vaguely, laying her coat over her lap before tilting her head to look at the man beside her, "And you?" 

"Never better." He grinned, his head shooting towards the plan door as a slight scuffle was heard. Isabella's mouth dropped open in shock, and she had to hide the amusement she gained from Deckard's exasperated expression. "You've got to be joking." 

The four of them watched with varying looks in their eyes as Hobbs came shuffling down the aisle in his tight, brown tracksuit, smiling brightly at Deckard who had his jaw clenched in frustration. 

"That was a good one." Hobbs assured with an enormous smile on his face, as Dec peered up at him with a large heap of disliking. Isabella leaned against the arm rest, peering through the seats to see Hattie's impressed face meanwhile Owen pretty much shadowed his brother. 

"How did you get through?" Isabella questioned, intrigue practically dripping from her pores as Hobbs secured his luggage in the lockers with an ambiguous shrug, "Unlike some people, I am just a nice person. People like me." 

Deckard huffed in response, turning to Isabella to roll his eyes rather than swinging for the man beside him. Hobbs squeezed himself into the chair just across the aisle from the pair, complimenting the older woman who sat beside him as he did so, just to further prove his point. 

"Between him and Owen, they will be the death of me." Deckard grumbled once more, releasing a faint giggle from Isabella who watched them with high spirits.

"Oh come on, how bad can they be?" She teased lightly.