A thundering crack followed, and a pile of papers flew upwards- scattering around in a chaotic mess!
Leonard winced. That's gotta hurt.
But it didn't. No at that moment though.
The old man's face was as dark as midnight. His shoulders trembled, and his black eyes glistened in their sockets. Anger, frustration, and hate tore at him from the insides- reflecting his in bulging eyes.
He jerked his head upwards;
"So," the terrible coolness had returned; "Basically, we can't touch that white-haired witch. . .?"
Leonard answered flatly; "Yes sir."
"And does he know?"
The man's eyes shot up questioningly; "Know what m'lord?"
He answered impatiently; "Does he know we're the ones after her?"
"Of course not m'lord. The York girl might have caved, but she's still very much a professional. She didn't breathe any word of the Howard name."
His shoulders slumped- as he heaved a deep sigh of relief;
