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Authors: Amelia Price

Tags: #crime, #mystery, #detective, #immortal, #mycroft holmes, #international action adventure, #amelia price

The Invisible Amateur (9 page)

BOOK: The Invisible Amateur
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Eventually the
Russian guards picked up on it as well, and Amelia noticed they
looked back and forth between the two Holmes brothers to see who
was going to say something first. It wasn't long before Amelia was
doing the same, but neither spoke, and after an hour she wondered
if either were ever going to.

Despite the men
who sat opposite, Amelia felt herself calming down. She was a
prisoner, but she was with the two smartest men in the world, and
the Russians had holstered their guns. For now, there was time to
think of a way out, or wait for a rescue. Daniels would know
something had gone wrong by now as well.

When another hour
had ticked by, she found her mind churning over ideas without
waiting for the men either side of her to come up with something.
They were either waiting for an opportunity, or not able to think
of something if nothing had happened in the hour or so that had
already passed. It was important that she try to follow their line
of thoughts. If the right opening came along, she might need to see
it and act without instructions, as well.

It took her
several minutes to come up with a few sensible ideas of what might
provide an escape attempt. At some point the guards would need to
change, and there was also the possibility that the rest of the
terrorists arriving back might create a distraction. For scope,
that wasn't much to go on, and she felt her heart sink when the two
North Koreans came into the room and switched with the Russians
without there being a single potential moment for escape.

She spent the next
few minutes fighting the despair that wanted to overwhelm her
emotions and rubbing feeling back into her fingers. The twine was
mercilessly tight, and she knew it wouldn't be loosened, even if
she did her best at being charming. A small smile crept across her
lips at her line of thought. Sebastian and Myron wouldn't be
surprised that her thinking had gone in that direction. They knew
she liked to use her female nature to aide her cause.

A few seconds
later she had to wipe the larger smile that threatened to show from
her face and try to look like nothing had occurred in her mind.
She'd just had the perfect idea to create an opportunity and help
the men either side of her. It might even be enough to make Myron
forgive her for a whole array of grievances.

After planning out
exactly what she'd do, Amelia waited for the right moment. It would
need to be done well, or she'd only make things worse.

 

 

Chapter 9

Anger and pain
were the focus points in Mycroft's mind. The pain would keep him
awake and his body running on adrenaline, and the anger would fuel
his resolve to get out of the mess they were in. Both would be
needed before the night was over.

Ever since
arriving at the terrorists' house, nothing had gone according to
plan. Sherlock had been late through from his location, giving
Mycroft too many men to handle alone, and he'd caught his foot on
the fabric of the first terrorist's trousers and knocked a vase off
a small table by the front door. Instead of going down quietly, the
Russian had made a loud noise and alerted everyone in the building
to his presence.

Although they
might have coped had Sherlock been on schedule for his half of the
plan, Mycroft knew it was his fault they'd been caught. He'd been
clumsy, something practice would have avoided. It resulted in his
anger being directed partially at himself, but plenty more had
flared when he'd seen Amelia emerge with Sherlock. The stupid girl
hadn't gone back to the hotel, where she'd have been safe.

Now he was sat in
the middle of a room that stunk of male body-odour with both Amelia
and Sherlock and no easy route out that didn't risk her getting
hurt. And he still didn't know where the information that the
terrorists were blackmailing the royal family with was. This was
exactly the sort of scenario he'd intended to avoid.

Over the last few
hours he'd run every possible plan for escape through his mind, and
he knew Sherlock would have done as well. The fact that both were
still sat there patiently waiting was confirmation that both knew
it was best to wait to act. Protecting Amelia would need to be
Sherlock's main goal, while his needed to be finding the
information and acquiring it before it could be taken somewhere
safer. He hoped Sherlock would see that and know what to do when
the time came.

Meanwhile, Daniels
would be waiting for them. His chauffeur knew better than to do
anything else on this mission. It wasn't approved, and therefore no
help could be called for. At best, the pair of retired agents who
were following Amelia around might decide to help, but that was so
unlikely it was better off being discounted. Watching a girl move
about London was one matter, performing a rescue mission when
outnumbered was far more. This wasn't their fight, and hadn't been
for several years. Both had already sacrificed a lot for the
survival of their country. Neither would want to risk more.

Knowing their
chance would need to come shortly before dawn, as the hours and
minutes ticked by, Mycroft grew more tense. By morning, they would
lose the information for good.

When the first
light of the morning was still over an hour away, Amelia grew
restless beside him. For several minutes she fidgeted back and
forth, until every eye was on her.

“Sorry,” she said
when she noticed the attention. After glancing at them all, she
looked at the two Korean men sitting opposite. “Do you think I
could go to the bathroom?”

Mycroft groaned
and the men ignored her. Yet another reason why he didn't like
having a woman to work with. They never seemed to be able to hold
their bladder. Women and needing the toilet was an art form he
would never understand, and it seemed the Koreans didn't, either.
They told her to be silent in their language and ignored her.

“Myron, I don't
think they understand. Will you ask...”

“Silence,” the
left one yelled again. Amelia bit down on the last few words of the
sentence, but she fidgeted some more and gave him a pleading look.
Before he could get annoyed enough with her to consider
translating, his younger brother did the honour.

As soon as
Sherlock had finished speaking in Korean Amelia pulled a pleading
desperate look at both men. At first it didn't look like it would
work, but after talking amongst themselves in low whispers, they
agreed to take her and motioned for her to get to her feet.

It took her a few
awkward shuffles to get the momentum to lift her body up, as most
of her limbs appeared to have gone to sleep, but she eventually
managed it and smiled gratefully as the smaller of the two men took
hold of her arm, just above the elbow, and led her out to the
landing.

The door closed
before Mycroft could see which way the bathroom lay, but he'd
caught enough of a glimpse to know another of the doors off the
landing was open and someone was in there doing something while sat
on an old dining chair.

Over the next few
minutes he heard the usual sounds one might expect when someone was
using a bathroom, ending with a flush and the patter of feet
towards the sink. Mycroft doubted they'd let her wash her hands,
but found himself wrong when the tap turned on and water gurgling
through pipes sounded from above.

A few seconds
later, a loud thud let him know that someone's head had connected
with solid wood and come off the worse. A few more yells came from
just outside the door, and their own guard got to his feet, caught
between the dilemma of being needed outside and in there. It only
took him a couple of seconds to decide to watch them.

Mycroft closed his
eyes, internalising his groan of despair. For some unknown reason
Amelia had decided to try and free herself, but he knew she
wouldn't succeed and now their own guard was doing exactly the
right thing in the situation. Even though Mycroft and Sherlock
could probably overpower him while Amelia was distracting the
others, they wouldn't get more than a couple of feet outside the
room without someone shooting, and it was likely to be Amelia who
took the bullet. If the guard had left them to try and get her
back, they might have got further and evened the fight well enough
to protect her, but that wouldn't happen now.

To add even more
stupidity to her decision, it would also make them more alert to
their actions. Once one tried to escape, the terrorists would be
more aware of a second attempt. She'd just ruined their chances of
getting away with the information and her unharmed.

A few more thuds
and a cut-off squeal of pain followed this process in Mycroft's
mind and confirmed his suspicions. Already she'd been stopped, and
for nothing. The only relief was the lack of gunshot noises,
silenced or otherwise.

The brief attempt
at escape ended with the door opening and Amelia being thrown onto
the floor at his feet. She groaned in pain as it wrenched her
shoulder, and he could already see the swelling around her eye and
right cheek bone from the punch that must have landed there. From
all the movement, the twine had also rubbed through the final few
layers of skin around her wrists, and it was turning red before his
eyes.

He ignored her and
turned his head away, unable to keep the anger from his eyes, but
not wanting the Koreans to see it. After a few seconds, Sherlock
leant forward and helped her lift herself into a sitting position
between them. As soon as he let go of her, she slumped against the
wall.

When she tilted
her own head back and closed her eyes he risked glancing at her
again. Her breath came in quick gasps through clenched teeth as she
tried to block out the pain she was in. Most of it would fade as
she sat there, but he found himself hoping she hadn't broken
anything. He still wanted to get her out of this alive, even if
she'd been stupid enough to make it harder on them. He could only
hope the pain she was in now was enough to make her learn her
lesson.

The Korean
terrorist who had gone out with her to the bathroom didn't come
back. Instead, one of the Russians who hadn't yet been their guard
came and took his place. Mycroft recognised this man. He'd been one
of the Russians on the boat.

He counted another
twenty minutes going by before the door opened and two more men
came in. The motioned for him and his two companions to get to
their feet. This time Amelia needed help, and she grunted in pain a
couple of times before the three of them stood. It was time for
them to be moved to yet another safe-house.

They were ushered
down the stairs one at a time, with a gun in their backs
encouraging them to cooperate. Once they were in the hallway,
Mycroft heard the sound of a van pulling up outside and each of
them were gagged with tape to keep them quiet.

Sherlock would
also know that this was the only moment they had to escape, and
Mycroft needed to be last out of the house to go back for the
information. Heading up the group of three, the younger Holmes
brother stepped out of the door first, followed by Amelia, putting
him exactly where he needed to be. The familiar Russian with a gun
came up behind them. Sherlock needed to be the one to make the
first move when he had a gun so close to his back. He would need to
cover Amelia long enough to get her out of there.

The back door of
the van was open and Sherlock had his foot on the back bumper
before he made a move. He pushed sideways with his foot and threw
his whole body into the nearest terrorist. Immediately Mycroft
pushed Amelia down to the ground and spun himself around to face
the Russian holding a pistol.

He didn't shoot,
but pointed it at Mycroft and threatened to. This was a problem. Of
all the tests his brother and he had done, surviving a bullet at
close range wasn't one of them. Mycroft hadn't moved fast enough,
once again.

As his mind was
running through the possibilities, Sherlock grabbed Amelia's arm
and tried to pull her away from the van and the house, but she
wouldn't go. Instead, she came up beside him. It seemed she wasn't
leaving without him. The sentiment was foolish at best.

Before he could
push her away and get her and his brother out of there, a darting
body came from the side and tackled the terrorist. The gun went off
as he hit the ground, but the bullet whistled past his ear without
causing harm.

“Run,” a familiar
voice said as its owner got back to his feet. More guns were fired
from the direction of the house, and the four of them took off down
the road towards Mycroft's car. While running, he pulled off the
tape that kept him silent, and noticed Amelia do the same, although
their hands remained bound in front of them. Sherlock had already
freed his mouth.

Daniels must have
been prepared, because the vehicle came down the road towards them
as they sprinted. Sherlock got there first, yanked the door open
and pushed their extra helper inside the car. Amelia followed only
a few seconds later.

Knowing everyone
who needed to be was safe, Mycroft stopped running and turned to go
back for the information, but his younger brother grabbed his
arm.

“It's too late. It
would be suicide, even for us,” Sherlock said in a low voice.

As two of the
Russian men came forward to try and get a better aim, he knew his
younger brother was right. They got into the car and he ordered
Daniels to drive off.

“Just drop me off
here,” Jeremy said when they were a few blocks away. “My work is
done.”

“Tha–”

Jeremy put up his
hand.

“We're even now.
We'll leave it at that.” The retired agent got out of the car and
Mycroft knew he'd never see him again. The job was done, and they
had completed the final business arrangement between them.

“Got anything to
undo these?” Sherlock asked as soon as the three of them were
alone. He held his hands up to emphasise the twine still holding
them together.

BOOK: The Invisible Amateur
7.02Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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