The Reluctant Knight (12 page)

With more speed
than before, she jogged along the hedge line until she was in a
corner and had to decide what to do next. This field had an
entrance nearby but it led to yet another field, and she didn't
know if she was going farther into a maze of crops, or getting
closer to the road and a way out.

Either way, she
knew she couldn't halt. If she stopped they would catch up to her
and there was no way she wanted to go back. Even she knew she
wouldn't get a second chance to escape.

By the time she'd
reached the next gap, she could hear shouts from behind her and her
body was shivering with the cold every time the wind blew. Out
among the fields she was exposed, and she had little on her body
underneath the coat. With the snow sometimes coming over the tops
of her boots she didn't have the ability to keep her body warm.

As she ran into
the next field she noticed there was no gap ahead for her to run
through. She'd reached a field surrounded by hedges, all of which
were too tall for her to climb over, and without being close she
couldn't tell if they were also too thick. If they were anything
like the ones she'd run past already, they would be
impenetrable.

She glanced behind
her while she continued on and felt her hopes blow away on the icy
wind. There were three men coming across the previous field, and
they'd evidently spotted her. Not wanting to give up without trying
every little possibility, Amelia plunged on, but as she stumbled,
she knew she was too cold and had too far to go.

The wind buffeted
the light drifts of snow as Mycroft hurried after Sherlock, Daniels
only a few feet away from him. Up ahead, the younger Holmes was
leading them to one of the lightly manned Ukrainian air bases on
the right stretch of the border, but Sherlock was in much better
shape than they were.

Although Daniels
was faring the worst, he was almost sixty and spent most of his
time driving people around London. Mycroft knew he should fare
better and promised himself that he'd try and get more exercise
when they were all safely back in England. He knew it was a promise
he was unlikely to keep later, but for the moment it mattered.

Not more than
twenty minutes after they'd left the car, Sherlock peeled off to
one side. He knew what needed doing, and would create the
distraction Mycroft and Daniels would require to steal the
helicopter.

The younger Holmes
never looked back, but he had a small tracking device and would be
able to follow them as much as they could follow him. Although
Daniels thought this would be so they could all meet up again once
Amelia was safe, Mycroft knew it was more likely to be used to make
sure Sherlock could be picked up, when he finally escaped whatever
overwhelming forces he was currently walking into.

As Mycroft reached
the barbed wire fence he crouched and waited for Daniels to catch
up. The chauffeur had fallen behind in the last few hundred metres,
and was breathing heavily by the time he joined Mycroft at the
fence.

“Sorry, sir,” he
said in between gasps.

“Not to worry,
Daniels. Let's just get ready for the next part. We've still time.”
Mycroft pulled wire-cutters out of his pocket and snipped at the
fence in front of him. Between the two of them, they soon had a
hole they could get through.

With that done,
they waited for Sherlock to do his bit. They wouldn't make a move
until the younger Holmes was attracting enough attention or they'd
not have enough time to get the helicopter from a cold start to in
the air before someone could get back to them. If it could be
helped, Mycroft didn't want to kill anyone. Dealing with that sort
of thing was more Sherlock's forte.

They waited by the
fence for almost ten minutes before an alarm sounded and men poured
from the middle building to deal with the cause. A few minutes
after that, several more men left their posts, probably ordered to
help by their commanding officers. It left this side of the base
unguarded enough momentarily, and Mycroft led the crouched jog
across the twenty metres of open ground.

Checking they were
unnoticed still, Mycroft opened the door for his chauffeur and then
reached up to give the rotor a quick starting spin. It wasn't
something you were meant to do these days but it would save them a
little time.

As soon as Daniels
started up the engine, Mycroft hopped inside and closed the door.
When he discovered there were only two seats and little space for
anyone else, he frowned. Amelia was going to have to share a seat
with someone, and that could only be him.

He had little time
to think over anything else, as Daniels had started up the rotor
enough the helicopter lifted off the ground. They were a few feet
up before any of the soldiers came back to see what was going on.
Since Daniels had kept the lights off and the chaos on the base
lent them some confusion, the soldier simply watched them go,
talking on a radio to try and reach someone. Mycroft assumed it
would be whoever the soldier thought was flying the copter.

Before the mistake
could be realised, they were flying off towards Russia, and it was
too late for anyone to stop them. So far so good.

With no lights to
guide them, their progress needed to be slow. The last thing they
wanted to do was fly into power cables or tall trees, but they
didn't want to be too far off the ground. Thankfully, the fuel
gauge was only a little below full. Someone had been taking care of
the helicopter, if nothing else.

An hour later they
were approaching the first location Mycroft wanted to search.
Movement on the ground caught his attention. Three men were
hurrying across a field in the snow, just vague outlines in the
dark. At first he couldn't see what they might be doing at that
time of night, but then he noticed another person push through the
last of a tall hedge, their coat getting tangled up behind
them.

Mycroft pointed,
discerning from the shape that it was likely to be female.
Immediately, Daniels brought them down lower and flicked on the
beam. As Amelia tried to wrap the tattered coat back around her,
they sunk lower, his chauffeur not needing to be told to land.

Evidently unsure
whether they were friend or foe, Amelia hesitated where she was and
tried to shield her eyes to get a better look. He could only watch
while the Russian men got closer and she glanced behind. A second
later she hurried onwards. She still couldn't know they were there
to rescue her, but she was choosing to press on rather than allow
herself to be caught.

Before the
helicopter was on the ground, Mycroft pushed open the door and
jumped down. The snow cushioned the fall, making it feel like
nothing, and then he was off running towards Amelia.

When he was far
enough from the sound of the rotor's spinning that she stood a
chance of hearing him, he yelled her name. Immediately, she looked
up, and a relieved smile broke out on her face. From somewhere, she
found a burst of speed, but her run was punctuated by drunken
looking stumbles and haphazard motions. It didn't take a genius to
work out she was showing signs of hypothermia.

Knowing he needed
to make it look like she was being abducted, he ran over to her and
pulled her into his arms.

“Struggle,” he
said, hoping she'd hear him and then he bodily lifted her and flung
her over his torso. Less than a second later she wriggled her legs
and arms, doing such a good job he almost dropped her. It was
evident she tired quickly of struggling, and within another minute
he was back by the helicopter.

Daniels threw the
door open as he got close enough, and Amelia clung to him, allowing
him to get in without bashing her on anything. He just about
managed to pull the door shut behind him before his chauffeur took
them into the air again, turning off the light as he went.

The Russians
opened fire, but Daniels was already anticipating the move and had
veered to the side. Within seconds, they were up and out of good
shooting range.

Very
uncomfortable, Mycroft encouraged Amelia back off his shoulder,
guiding her legs to the side and away from Daniels. She slid down
onto his lap, and let go of him, looking around the helicopter for
some place she could move to. It didn't take her long to work out
she had nowhere else to go, but he appreciated the attempt.

To reassure her,
he curled his arm around her back. She winced and struggled against
him until it occurred to him that he was hurting her. He stopped
all movement and also noticed she was shivering violently.

Taking care not to
alarm her, and moving slow enough to cause her as little pain as
possible, he slid his hands and arms inside the coat she wore,
cradling her body towards his. This time she didn't fight his
gesture, but her cheeks reddened when he brushed up against her
breasts. For someone who had tried to seduce him only days before
she was being very coy now, but she didn't pull away, and
eventually she looked up at him.

“Thank you,” he
saw her say, although she couldn't be heard above the noise of the
engines. It was a simple enough phrase and he lip-read it with no
issue.

He gave her a curt
nod of acceptance and she responded by resting her head against his
chest. It wasn't long before Mycroft noted that he didn't feel
uncomfortable with her in his arms, even given her state of attire.
After all, he had seen and touched her before.

It took most of
the journey back for her to stop shivering but she felt cold for
even longer. If he hadn't found her when they did, he knew she
wouldn't have got much farther. Despite what had obviously been a
reasonable success plan for someone with the little training she'd
had, she wouldn't have had the survival skills for the terrain and
season she was immersed in. They'd saved her life, and given the
way she had run to him when she saw it was him, she probably knew
that.

Mycroft kept still
so she could rest until they were a couple of minutes from their
landing site, but they needed to be ready as soon as they landed.
To help convince the Russians that the Ukrainians had stolen
Amelia, they were landing it only a short distance away from the
base they'd stolen it from. They then needed to get to the car and
inside before any soldiers started shooting.

Amelia lifted her
head when he moved, but he could see she was dozy and blinking lots
to try to rouse her mind. Everything that had happened would be
starting to catch up with her.

He used his arm to
raise her face closer to his mouth before he yelled, “We need to
run to the car.”

He wasn't sure she
had heard him but she nodded and slowly sat up. Several times she
grimaced but she didn't try to explain what hurt her. Given how
long ago she had been beaten, it was unlikely to be anything that
could kill her, but he would keep an eye on her anyway.

As they came in to
land, Mycroft quickly noticed the car wasn't exactly where they'd
left it. The lights flashed at them a couple of times. He raised
his eyebrows in response and opened the door. Amelia pushed herself
off his lap and straight onto the grass, and he followed,
supporting her as her legs almost buckled underneath her.

By the time he was
running with her, Daniels had also got out and had come around to
their side of the vehicle. As a group, they hurried towards the
car, just making out the outline underneath a large tree.

Several shouts
behind let them know they had to hurry, and about half way across
the few hundred metres, Mycroft grabbed Amelia around the waist and
helped her go that little bit faster. He wouldn't get her this far
to let her be shot so close to safety.

Instead of running
for the nearest door, Mycroft aimed for the back of the car and
around the side. As they got close, Sherlock flung open the
passenger side door and Daniels dived in, while he held open the
door on the other side and propelled Amelia inside.

She tripped
straight into the foot well as the first Ukrainian soldiers fired
upon them. All of the bullets bounced off the toughened exterior
but Mycroft ducked just in case and hurried in.

As soon as he had
the door shut behind him, Sherlock floored the accelerator and he
fell into the nearest seat. Within seconds, he'd righted himself
and regained his dignity but Amelia still lay at his feet, her face
screwed up in pain.

With a small
groan, she slid herself over onto her side and then just closed her
eyes, ignoring the sound of bullets smacking into the side and back
of the car.

“I'm assuming the
rescue went far better than we planned,” Sherlock said when they
were a little farther away and could hear each other over the
noises outside.

“Amelia was
already outside,” Daniels replied before Mycroft could.

“I assumed so when
you never reached either location and turned back.”

“Did you achieve
your part of the task?” Mycroft asked, studying as much of
Sherlock's face as he could see in the rear view mirror.

“Of course,
brother of mine. They'll think the Ukrainian Army have her.”

At this reply
Amelia opened her eyes again. She pushed herself upright and gave
him a curious glance, but he didn't explain, he just held out his
hand to help her onto the seat.

She ignored the
offering and slowly pushed herself up where she wanted to be,
taking her time to keep her torn-up coat covering as much of her
skin as possible, despite how dark it was in the back of the
car.

It only took
twenty minutes for Sherlock to drive them to their next
destination, a small privately owned airport. Someone there with a
plane apparently owed Sherlock a favour, and as long as it got them
back to London before too many hours had passed, Mycroft didn't
care.