The Invisible Amateur Page 6

  “Let's get right to the information we need,” Sherlock said, followed by the rattle of something metal dropping onto the table. The kid gasped. “You've seen one of these before, haven't you?”

  Mycroft gritted his teeth, knowing Sherlock had just shown the kid the Russian coin. The boy nodded.

  “We're with a particular branch of the government. I think it's really important right now that you tell us what you know.”

  Mycroft rolled his eyes. One way his younger brother was always predictable. He loved drama.

  “You won't be in any trouble if you tell us what you know,” Amelia said as she leant forward and patted the boy's arm. “Where did you get the information?”

  “My sister,” he gulped again. “Is she going to be in trouble?”

  “Well, some people might have to talk to her as well, but as long as she cooperates with us, I'm sure the situation can be sorted out.” Amelia smiled.

  “Who else knows?” Sherlock cut across the conversation, and Mycroft wished he'd shut up. Amelia's tactic had appeared to be working, even if it wasn't completely accurate.

  “Your sister told you, but that wouldn't have been enough to get paid, would it? Where did you get the evidence to sell?”

  “When Margaret said about it I hacked into the database she said she'd seen it on. Stuck it on a memory stick, and these two men came forward and told me they'd pay well for it. Gave me a whole bunch of those coins.”

  “Can you describe the stick?” Amelia asked before Sherlock could speak.

  “Yeah, it was silver, with 64 gigabytes on one side. Has a clear cap and a cream string to attach it to something. About this big.”

  From where he was sitting Mycroft couldn't see the dimensions, but both Sherlock and Amelia watched as the boy held out his fingers to show them the size.

  “How long ago did you sell them this?”

  “Only a few days ago. They expressed an interest in it a couple of months before Christmas, but they only paid and picked it up when I threatened to sell it elsewhere about two days ago.”

  “And your sister and you haven't mentioned a word of it to anyone else?” Amelia asked.

  The boy shook his head.

  “Right then, one last thing. I want you to write down your name and address for me,” Amelia passed over her notebook and a pen. “And don't give me anything fake. It won't take us long to verify it, and if you've not supplied the correct information we will have to take matters further.”

  After scribbling furiously, the boy passed the details back to Amelia and looked hopefully at Sherlock. Mycroft glanced away as they let the kid walk out. The enquiry would need to go further, but it could wait. Right now, he had to make sure the information was only held by the terrorists and hadn't been passed to Mr Delra. That meant taking a trip to the address Sherlock had found for him.

  Not waiting for Amelia or Sherlock to follow, Mycroft got up and headed for the car, leaving the almost untouched drink and making Daniels jog to keep up. He knew Amelia wouldn't allow herself to be ordered back to the hotel, so he intended to leave her behind.

  As he got into his car, his brother followed in behind and slammed the car door shut. Daniels pulled off before Amelia could do more than walk around the corner.

  “Myron!” he heard her yell in his ear. He yanked the earpiece out before she could make any more of a fuss and tucked it into the car's ashtray.

  Sherlock laughed and sat back next to him.

  “She is going to be mad at you for weeks.”

  “She's safer being left behind,” Mycroft replied.

  “I agree, and would have done the same thing. She's still angry.”

  “It's you she'll be angry at. I'm just paying for her hotel. You're the one teaching her.” Mycroft looked out the window. His brother would know this wasn't true and get the hint.

  “You worked out I know you have an arrangement with Amelia.”

  “Not any longer, I don't.”

  “Yes. You do.” He raised his eyebrows at his younger brother. “I know it's safe to assume you made it a condition that she didn't tell anyone. She didn't tell me. I worked it out and then used my knowledge of our own little agreement to keep her safe to get her to slip up and admit she had a separate deal with you.”

  “So she still said something.” Mycroft sneered.

  “Only because I made it clear I already knew. She'd never have betrayed you otherwise. I thought that would be obvious after she let you notice her slipping the card into your pocket.”

  “I assure you she didn't let me notice something I wouldn't have.” Mycroft lifted his chin a little higher. “However, to the task at hand. I want you to stay out of the way on this one. We need to find that information before anything else.”

  Chapter 8

  Fury ran through Amelia as she stomped her feet on the side of the road. Myron and Sebastian had abandoned her in the middle of the night. She knew the logic that had led to the decision, but it didn't lessen her anger. Both of them would expect her to go back to the hotel and wait for one of them to let her know their mission was a success.

  As a taxi came up the road towards her, she knew she wasn't going to listen to them. The fear that Myron had instilled in her less than a week earlier about memorising an address had paid off. She could still remember the location Sebastian had found for him. Whether they wanted her to or not, she could follow them there and help. Knowing the London traffic, she'd only be a couple of minutes behind them.

  After giving the driver the address, she urged him to get there as swiftly as the traffic would allow. She had enough cash to pay him double if he managed it.

  The whole way over to the address she kept an eye out for Myron's car and where they were going. As of an hour ago, she was on duty helping the Holmes boys. She couldn't make a mistake, and that meant taking in and remembering the massive amounts of information they regularly processed.

  Only when the taxi pulled up a couple of streets away, as she'd asked the driver to do, did she wonder if she'd done the right thing. For some reason these terrorists were after her, and she had travelled right to them. The first tendrils of fear crept up into her mid-section as she stepped out onto the pavement. She needed to stay in the shadows and find Myron or Sebastian before anyone noticed her.

  Not long after walking in the right direction she spotted the familiar black car, and Daniels stepped out of a shadow to confront her.

  “Miss Jones, you shouldn't be here. Go back to the hotel,” Daniels said as he pulled her into the dark alleyway.

  “I'm not going to sit and wait for this to be over while the two people I like most are wading into danger on my behalf. Myron has been training me for combat and Sebastian for the sneaky stuff. I know I can help them,” she replied, as much to convince her own mind as Daniels.

  “Myron is going to be angry.”

  “He might, but I'm safer with them. Which way did Sebastian go?” At this question of hers, Daniels grinned. He understood her logic. Sebastian would let her help if she wanted to, whereas Myron would probably try and send her back to the hotel still.

  “He went around the back. Go down there until you reach the next road. You'll find a back gate ajar and Sebastian preparing to jump a fence. You'll have to hurry.”

  She patted his arm to thank him for the information and jogged off down the alley, pleased she'd worn trousers that day rather than a skirt, and extra pleased the knives Myron gave her were tucked up against her back.

  As Daniels had described, she noticed the gate to a back garden was left open by a small fraction, so she snuck through it and hurried down the little alleyway beside the house, keeping her footfalls light to hide any noise. She paused at the end of the house to see if she could spot Sebastian, but the trees around the edge of the garden blocked out too much light. The shadows at the end could have hidden an army of grown men.

  Focusing on her breathing and moving quietly, Amelia crept closer to the fence. When she was almost there,
a hand reached out and tugged her into the shadows at the side. Panic almost made her scream before her brain let her know the grip was familiar.

  “Sometimes I think you're far too clever for your own good,” Sebastian whispered in her ear.

  “Everything I know, you or your elder brother taught me,” she whispered back. The sound of a low chuckle came to her ears. It was true. She'd never have been this bold if they hadn't taught her.

  “We need to get over the fence in exactly one minute.”

  “You can go first,” she said.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. I can copy your movements if you go first.”

  “All right.” Sebastian moved forward to use the tree as a platform over the fence and she came up behind, watching every foot and hand placement in the dim light as he hauled himself up. He moved slowly to minimise the movement of the branches, but it was a good thing it was mid-winter and there were no leaves to rustle.

  Amelia tried to count out a minute in her head, but Sebastian moved before she got there and she had no choice but to follow. Being second, she couldn't move as slowly as he had done, but she didn't need to. Her body was so much lighter the branches moved less for her and allowed her an easy passage.

  As she lowered herself down the other side, Sebastian reached up to steady her.

  “Stay close,” he whispered as they rushed across the back garden to the back door of the house. As they got closer, a movement-sensitive light came on. He grabbed her hand and sprinted to the house. Less than two seconds later they stood with their backs pressed against the brick wall to one side of the patio doors.

  As the light went out again, it revealed a thin strip of light from the patio window, and she could see the outline of a person looking through a gap in the curtains. Her pulse raced and her body shook as she tried to stay calm.

  After what seemed like an age, the curtains flapped shut again and she exhaled. Not daring to move in case she triggered the light again, she waited for Sebastian to move.

  Slower than she'd thought possible, he slid his body across the wall towards the kitchen door and away from the patio with the sensitive light, leaving her closest to danger and not sure she could match his slow, steady movement. She turned her head slightly, to keep an eye on him, and realised she was going to need to follow.

  She took a couple of deep breaths and inched her body along the wall, feeling the scrape of fabric against brick. A few seconds later the string on the back of her corset caught on something, and she found herself stuck, unable to move further. Sebastian wasn't paying her any attention, so she had to try and get herself unsnagged without help.

  Just as she was almost there, the string coming loose made her jolt. Instantly, the light went on. She froze and pulled an apologetic face at Sebastian when he turned to look at her.

  From where she now stood, she couldn't see the patch of grass the living room light had shone out onto, so she could only keep still and hope no one inside noticed the disturbance again.

  Amelia tried to count the seconds while they waited, and she hoped nothing bad happened. Neither Holmes brother would forgive her if they were discovered because of her. After a minute, darkness enveloped them once more. This time she decided not to move. She would wait until Sebastian was inside before risking setting off the light again.

  An agonising amount of time later he was by the back door and reaching out with one hand to find the lock and handle. At the same slow speed, he then turned to face the back door and crouched in front of it. Several more minutes after that, he had a lock pick in his hands and was about to start work on the door.

  The sound of a loud crash sounded from inside the house, followed by loud voices and running people.

  “Crap,” Sebastian said and gave up on being stealthy. He threw his body weight at the door, but it didn't do more than give a few millimetres. After a second impact into it, the door flew open and Sebastian rushed inwards. Amelia followed.

  It didn't take long for someone to notice them, and an Asian-looking man came through the kitchen door in time for Sebastian's fist to connect with his nose. The unfortunate guy went flying backwards into someone else.

  Before Amelia could get close enough to even consider helping, two Russians came into the room from a separate door. Both had guns, and they were pointed right at them. Sebastian put his hands in the air, and Amelia didn't hesitate to copy him.

  This had managed to go horribly wrong in less than ten minutes. Myron was ushered into the room only a few seconds later. Blood dripped from his nose, and he gave Amelia an angry look when he saw her, but otherwise remained his expressionless self.

  The men around them talked in languages she didn't understand, but some plan must have been made because they were then ushered towards the front of the house, through the living room, and then up the stairs. Two Russians went first, then Myron and Amelia, before Sebastian came up behind them all. It didn't surprise her that the two men were already trying to protect her in the limited capacity left open to them.

  Once on the next floor, Amelia noticed there were four doors off the landing, and they were ushered through to one of the rooms at the back. She tried to scan the others as they walked past the doors but she only got a glimpse into one which showed a pile of beds arranged across the floor.

  The room they were taken into had a similarly covered floor, and she noticed there were enough sleeping places for nine men. So far they'd only seen seven, five Russians and two North-Koreans.

  The men pushed the beds out of the way to one side and used twine to tie their hands together in front of them. Amelia tried not to wince as it dug into her wrists. Unlike the last time they'd captured her and Myron, they weren't gentle with her. They'd learnt that she was also a potential threat.

  Once they were bound, all three were encouraged to sit with gun-aided gesticulations. All but two of the men then left. She let a sigh escape her lips at finding herself in such a position. This time it wouldn't be so easy to escape.

  No one spoke, and Amelia was left to wonder what had happened for them to get caught. Myron appeared the worst off, of the three of them. His nose looked swollen where it had been hit, and it still dripped blood for several minutes after they had sat down.

  It didn't take her long to work out that Sebastian was annoyed with Myron. He sat with his body turned slightly away from him, and his fists were clenched into white-knuckled balls. Myron sat with his chin high, as he often did when he was annoyed with something but unwilling to explain, and didn't even glance at either of them. The atmosphere of anger and silence grew worse with each long minute that passed.

  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.