by Amelia Price
“Good morning, Daniels. I hope you are well?” she asked as they drew closer.
“I can't complain, ma'am.”
“I assume my brother's in his study. We'll just go through and speak with him.”
Daniels kept his face expressionless as he turned to Sebastian, and Amelia realised the chauffeur didn't like him much. Myron evidently had the man's loyalty.
“You always do, sir, but yes, he's in his study. Working hard, as usual.”
“Thank you, Daniels.” Amelia gave him a quick nod of understanding as Sebastian hurried straight past. With a sigh, she followed on afterwards, only now wondering what Myron would think of her and Sebastian arriving together.
“Hello, brother of mine,” Sebastian's voice said from inside the house, letting her know that Myron had been found. Following the sound, she walked her way down the hallway and paused in the doorway of the study.
With the sun shining and brightening the room, it looked even more heavenly than it usually did. Myron sat at his desk, his hands clasped and supported by his elbows resting on the desk's green leather surface. He glanced her way and she thought she saw a flicker of annoyance.
“It seems Sebastian and I both had similar ideas to come and see if you knew more. He found me while I was on my way,” Amelia said, cutting right past the greetings to what might have caused the brief display of something other than neutrality from Myron.
“So, what have you found?” Sebastian sat himself down and crossed his legs. Deciding not to block the doorway any longer, Amelia wandered over to the window seat and sat with her back to the outside world. Not only did it afford her a good view of both the Holmes brothers, but it also used the light to mask her own expressions a little, giving her time to gather her thoughts. Just seeing Myron again had discomposed her.
“We've located Krylov and had it verified he's our man. He's currently enjoying a holiday in Antigua on a large yacht. It looks like he will be there for several more days.”
“I assume you intend me to go deal with him?” Sebastian smiled, but Myron shook his head.
“No. I plan to go myself as soon as I have confirmation that his wife and two children have left to visit her sister for some family celebration.”
“You? This isn't your sort of thing. Normally you'd send a lackey of yours.”
“Well, this time I want to make sure the job is done properly. I'm going.”
“Not alone,” Amelia said, injecting her opinion into the argument before she was forgotten completely.
“Yes, alone. It will be very dangerous.”
“Which is exactly why you shouldn't go alone, brother.” Sebastian stood. “We'll all go. It will be good training for Amelia, and I can ensure your lack of practice doesn't muck things up.”
Myron rolled his eyes.
“I can't stop you going, brother, but Amelia stays here. She's not ready for something like this.”
“I'm not ready for coming face to face with a terrorist on a boat? I believe that's where all this started, didn't it? You and me on a boat.” Amelia came towards the desk as well. There was no way they were going without her.
“I shouldn't have to remind you that I command you now. If I say you stay, then you stay.” Myron gave her a fierce look but she ignored him.
“You've been training me to handle this sort of thing, and besides, with you I'd be perfectly safe enough. Are you saying you can't cope with teaching me at the same time as dealing with Krylov?”
Sebastian chuckled as Myron sighed.
“You have to admit, she knows us well, brother. You surely can't refuse that sort of challenge. And she does have a point. We can keep her safe, I'm sure.”
“Very well, but you do exactly as I say once we're there.”
“Of course. You command and I obey.” Amelia couldn't stop the grin as it spread across her face even if she also felt nervous at the idea of tracking down and confronting an international smuggler, a terrorist.
“There's still work to be done before we can leave.” Myron glanced at his brother.
“So put us to work. It's why I'm here.” Amelia gave her boss a smart nod, hoping he'd realise she intended to take her task seriously.
“I suppose I am as well, brother. I have no cases.”
Myron nodded and pulled up the blueprints of the yacht, as well as the rest of the information they had on Krylov's location.
Over the next hour Amelia studied every little detail, committing it all to memory as best she could. It was these moments she wished she had the memorisation abilities the Holmes brothers did. Both could look at something once and remember it forever. She had to go over something and write it out by hand if she wanted to be sure she would keep it in her head for a little while.
It turned out Krylov had been an orphan by seven, bought as a slave by someone in the Russian mob at nine. By fifteen he was free, having killed his owner and usurped his place. In short, Krylov had worked his way up through the criminal ranks until he'd reached a powerful position.
The unsuccessful terrorist attack he'd coordinated on London had been part of a deal with a supplier of his. The money and goods had exchanged hands and then she and the Holmes brothers had thrown a spanner in the original plan. Krylov's deal had gone south, costing the man millions. No wonder he wanted her dead.
When she'd caught up on the information, she listened as Myron told her the plan to get on board. It would involve some swimming but she thought she could handle the distance involved. The waters would be calmer than the rough seas of the English Channel the first time they'd had to swim between boat and land together.
When Myron mentioned the method he intended to kill Krylov with Amelia gasped.
Both Holmes brothers raised their eyebrows.
“We plan to kill him?”
“Of course. How else did you expect us to stop him?”
“I thought we'd arrest him, or something like that.”
“Even if I thought justice would be served and he wouldn't merely bribe his way out of that, he'd be unlikely to allow himself to be arrested. It will be a kill or be killed situation. Of course, if you have a problem with that, I'm more than happy to leave you here, as I originally planned.” The crispness in Myron's words let her know this was a query she shouldn't have made.
“If it's necessary, then I have no problem,” Amelia said, as much to convince herself as him.
“Good.” Sebastian came to her rescue, handing Myron an adjusted diagram of their plan of action once on the boat. As she looked over it, she realised it kept her out of the most danger while also letting her play a part. For her first official mission with the Holmes brothers, it was a good start.
Myron took the drawing and, a few seconds later, he nodded.
“We have a lot of things to prepare. Take this list out to Daniels.” Myron handed her two pieces of paper. “And get this from your hotel.”
She took the offered items and hurried off to ask the chauffeur to get started. Despite the car looking spotless, Daniels was still outside, with a cloth in one hand. Amelia squinted and shifted a footstep to the left as she was momentarily blinded by the glare off the gleaming metalwork.
“Wow, you've done an amazing job.”
“First good day we've had for it this year, and it is new. I'll keep it looking that way as long as I can,” he said, holding his head a little taller at her compliment. She handed him the list.
“Our commander and chief has some errands for us to run.” She waved her list in the air as well, even if she didn't let him read it.
“I'll drop you off.” Daniels opened the car door for her and she hurried inside, inhaling the fresh smell of the cleaned interior. She could really get used to being driven around by Daniels.
Chapter 11
Mycroft sipped his tea and allowed his mind to process the many details still to work out. It was the middle of the afternoon, and both his younger brother and Amelia had completely changed the plans he'd put in place ove
r the last thirty-six hours.
It raised his chances of success, as long as everyone did what they were told, but it also raised the chance someone other than Krylov would get hurt. For him and Sebastian that mattered little, but for Amelia, it could mean another occasion that she would need to recover from.
Even after telling her she could join him on this mission, he was considering leaving her behind. If Daniels returned with all the equipment they needed before her, he would probably do just that. He doubted Sebastian would take much persuading, especially given how close they appeared lately. The younger Holmes would be equally concerned for her safety. At least, he ought to be.
There was a plane booked to take them to the Caribbean overnight. It would give them some time to see what the exact situation was over on Antigua before night fall of the following day. Then they would remove the threat to Amelia and the UK.
With any luck, within forty-eight hours he would be back in his study with nothing to do but mop up a few loose ends and get back to his usual work. The sort of thing that didn't require travelling, interacting with people face to face, or putting one's life in danger.
Sherlock was sitting reading the morning's newspaper, making as much noise as possible every time he turned a page. When the younger Holmes was bored, it always fell to petty annoyances between the two of them. While Mycroft could sit and wait for something for hours, churning over ideas and theories in his head, Sherlock had to be busy or would fidget, antagonise and otherwise make himself a nuisance.
When he heard the front door open, Mycroft let out a small sigh of relief, but rather than being followed by the steady tromp of Daniels' shoes on the hallway wood, it was followed by the pitter-patter of Amelia's shorter gait. Accompanying it was the sound of wheels of a small suitcase. Mycroft rolled his eyes. She hadn't obeyed his requests to the letter.
“I have everything you asked for, Myron,” she said as soon as she came through the door. “I brought everything else, as well. I figured there was no point wasting money on a hotel room I'm not using for a couple of days.”
Sherlock chuckled, looking at Mycroft's reaction to the news.
“Oh, I don't plan to bring it all with us. I asked Daniels to get me a much smaller case for what I actually need. It will only take two seconds to transfer it all since I've already separated it out. I assumed it would be all right to leave the rest here. It's not like it will be in anyone's way while we're all gone.”
“Well, that's something, at least.” Mycroft nodded. It wasn't bad logic. Given how used to saving money she was, it was something he should have expected. Even if it was annoying for her to use his house in such a manner, she'd rationalised it as the most considerate option in her own mind. He would have to teach her to weigh the priorities of others against her own first.
“I'd have preferred if you'd just left it at the hotel. The money isn't an issue. But it's here now.” Mycroft paused as Mrs Hunter appeared. He thanked the heavens that his housekeeper always seemed to know exactly when she was needed. “Can you take the superfluous baggage Miss Jones has with her, and store it in the spare room?”
A few seconds later the suitcase was gone and there was just a neat pile of clothing and equipment Amelia would need over the next 24 hours. Now they just needed Daniels.
Within the next half hour, Mycroft received the final message he needed to give him confidence in his plan. Krylov's wife and kids had just got in the car to be taken to the airport. They'd be back in Russia not long after he arrived in Antigua, safely out of the way.
When he passed the news on, only Amelia reacted. Sherlock gave him a bored, not interested look, and Amelia appeared more relieved. Given how much compassion she'd expressed over Nesterov and the war they'd started between Ukraine and Russia, it was consistent for her to respond so. Within seconds, all of them returned to waiting.
Thankfully, Amelia didn't add to the disruption Sherlock liked to cause. Instead, she fetched herself yet another book from his extensive library and settled in a chair by the fire to read.
After about ten minutes, she shot Sherlock a look of annoyance that he didn't notice, and moved to the window seat farthest away. Mycroft felt the corners of his mouth twitch up. It turned out he wasn't the only one irritated by the actions of a bored Sherlock.
As the minutes continued to tick by, Mycroft also wondered what he could do with himself. He was considering trying to engage Amelia in conversation when Sherlock grew restless enough to give up on the paper. When he got up and approached Amelia, it was evident he'd had a similar idea.
“How are you progressing with the latest novel?” he asked. She stuck her thumb in the way to mark her page before giving the younger Holmes her attention.
“Well, thank you. I shouldn't take much longer to finish it.”
“Fabulous.”
Conversation stalled and Mycroft would have smiled had he been naturally more expressive.
Before it could start up again, he heard the sound of a car pulling up onto the driveway. Mycroft, very ready to get under way, got to his feet.
Within a minute, Amelia was fitting her possessions into the much smaller case Daniels had retrieved for her, and the rest of the equipment was gathered up to move to the car.
Less than ten minutes later Mycroft sat in the back of his new Bentley, Amelia in her usual seat beside him and Sherlock up in front, next to Daniels. The best place for the still bored Holmes brother. There was a chance Mycroft could get used to going on the occasional mission when the company was well behaved.
An hour later they were moving to the plane, and Daniels handed them the last of the luggage. Somehow, no one had irritated Mycroft, and he'd even managed to forget he had company for several minutes.
“Have a good trip, sir.”
“Thank you, Daniels. I'll let you know when to pick us up. Enjoy your day off.”
“I will. Thank you, sir.”
Mycroft nodded and watched his chauffeur drive away, before following Amelia onto the plane. As expected, Sherlock was already sitting in one of the seats, tapping his fingers on the armrest. Mycroft was tempted to point out how irritating it was but he knew this would only encourage the younger Holmes. Instead, Mycroft sat himself in what he thought was the best seat of the four. On the right and facing forwards.
It left the backwards seats as the only options for Amelia. She glanced at both of these before settling into the one in front of him. A few seconds later she lifted up her legs, leaving her shoes on the floor, and attempted to curl up, avoiding looking at him as she did.
After several readjustments, she closed her eyes. Immediately, Sherlock stopped tapping. A few seconds later he closed his eyes as well, and half an hour after that Mycroft was the only one left awake. It was bliss.
Mycroft watched over them the entire night. It wasn't entirely necessary, but he'd never found it very easy to sleep while travelling.
An hour before the plane was due to land, Sherlock woke up.
“The older I get the less I seem to sleep,” he said a little above a whisper. It wasn't entirely true but Mycroft understood the sentiment. It could often feel like they didn't sleep as well. The memories of so many years weighed on the mind.
“She looks so peaceful when she sleeps, doesn't she?” Sherlock motioned his head towards Amelia. Although Mycroft didn't need to look to know – he could picture it – he moved his attention to her face.
Both hands were tucked under her chin, and her chest moved in a slow rhythmic motion. A few strands of her chestnut hair had trailed loose from her bun and were draped across her cheek. Still transfixed, Mycroft leant forward and stroked them back behind her ear.
Sherlock chuckled and she stirred. Mycroft shot his younger brother a glare and slowly sat back so Amelia wouldn't see anything out of the ordinary if she did wake. It wasn't long before her breathing returned to normal.
“She's different, isn't she?” Sherlock said, quieter than before. In response, Mycroft raised his eye
brows; this sort of sentimentality wasn't really like his brother either. “I think she might be good for both of us.”
“How so?” he replied, deciding to see just where the younger Holmes was going.
“When you've seen what we've seen and done all the things we've done it's easy to become detached from the everyday. She reminds us to have some compassion. To at least try to remember what it was like to fear, to need to take care of ourselves.”
After letting out a sigh, he gave a slight nod. It was a good point. They'd started a war with no thought for the deaths it would cause. Living so long made it easy for him to be selfish. He had no financial issues, no health concerns, very little in the way of emotional conflict, when Sherlock was behaving, and it made it difficult to feel empathy for a world that might need their help.
“Despite all that, we can't let her be a part of our world for too long.” Mycroft gave his brother a look. Given that they weren't alone, neither of them would say why, but the one glance was enough for the meaning to be passed on regardless. Their secret mustn't ever get out.
“You don't think she'd be loyal enough for that not to be a problem? She does seem rather fond of you... for some reason.”
“You know some risks are never worth taking.”
Sherlock sighed, and he had to restrain himself from echoing the sentiment. It was a shame, but they just wouldn't ever be able to take the chance. Just one slip and their carefully built world could come crashing down on them.
They lapsed into silence until the plane started its decent to the airstrip. Before Mycroft could shake Amelia awake, Sherlock leant forward and called her name loudly enough she jumped and snapped her eyes open.
“We're almost there,” he said, a slightly cruel smile playing across his face at the wide-eyed, mouth slightly open, look frozen on her.
“Right.” She recovered, but her breathing took a minute to settle while she put her shoes back on and neatened her crumpled clothes, still not looking at him. It occurred to Mycroft that being so close for almost a week and then pushing her away had led to an awkward air between them. By putting some distance between them she was doing everything she could to guard her heart.
