The Reluctant Knight (11 page)

“The cold never
bothered me anyway,” Amelia sang back. Mycroft raised his eyebrows
at the strangeness of the response but it seemed to amuse Nesterov,
because he laughed.

“Ah, maybe he
likes your sense of humour.”

“No, I very much
doubt that.”

“Well, we can have
another little chat tomorrow.” Nesterov's voice grew louder while
he spoke, making Mycroft frown as it became obvious the bug must be
attached to her dress. If they found it now she wouldn't be given
the reprieve of the night time.

“I don't think you
understand what 'little chat' is in English,” she called out but
Nesterov continued to walk away from her, her voice getting fainter
and confirming Mycroft's suspicions.

“Two guards on the
door at all times and wake her every half an hour,” Nesterov said
in Russian to his guards, once he was outside the cell they were
keeping her in.

It wasn't much
information but it was useful. Wherever she was being held, he'd
know when he got close to her.

Now that the bug
was on the move, Mycroft hoped it would be left somewhere that
might provide further information, but luck wasn't with them.
Wherever the dress was put, only the sound of something shutting
followed it.

With nothing else
to do, Mycroft allowed himself to get a few hours' rest before
dark. Thankfully, in winter the days were short, and in not very
long he was up and waking Daniels, Sherlock opening his eyes as
soon as Mycroft even came close.

“It's time,” he
said and gave his younger brother a nod, knowing he would pick up
on Mycroft's gratitude.

“I'll see you on
the other side,” he replied, his eyes saying everything else the
two of them needed to. This wasn't goodbye, but it was just as
important.

As Amelia tried to
get comfortable, pain lanced across her body. She couldn't see what
they'd done to her back, but she knew it hurt whenever anything
came into contact with it. On top of that, where her bra straps and
fastening hooks sat, they had dug in, and she thought they might
have even cut her skin.

When they'd torn
her dress from her Amelia had expected worse to follow, but it
seemed they weren't going to touch her for now. However, she'd
decided she wasn't going to wait to find out, if she could help it.
Now that she didn't have the bug she was truly on her own, and that
meant she needed to escape if she wanted to live. Facing your own
death as an alternative was a powerful motivator.

Before they'd shut
the door on her she'd seen the two guards take up position on
either side. At every opportunity she'd got she'd studied everyone
she'd come into contact with, trying to make use of any little
details that told her something about the men. Some of it seemed
like it might be useful.

While she was
trying to think of a good way to put it to use, Amelia felt her
mind drifting off. Before she could shake herself awake she heard
the door open behind her. She opened her eyes, but she didn't move
or let on that she was awake.

A few seconds
later the door shut but footsteps shuffled closer. When they were
only a few feet from her, they stopped.

“Wake up,” an
almost pleading voice said. Amelia rolled over, knowing which one
of them had spoken, managing to hide the wince of pain while she
gave him a good look at her scantily clad torso.

Feeling a little
disgusted with herself for having to do this, Amelia moved into a
kneeling position. All the while, his eyes never left her body. The
slight look of hunger she'd noticed on his face when he'd been
ordered to take her dress was not even slightly masked now.

“I wasn't asleep,”
she said. “I've never been good at going to sleep alone.” As she
said the last word she looked him up and down, pretending to be far
more interested than she was.

He looked a little
surprised, but didn't move, and unless he unchained her she
couldn't get any closer.

“The truth is,
I've never been that close to Myron Holmes. I'm a call girl. Pretty
much a classy hooker. That's why you found me in his hotel room and
saw me go to Scotland with him. I make long journeys and long
nights more...
interesting
... but I don't know anything. And
tomorrow, your boss... he'll probably kill me.”

“You should tell
him this,” the young man said, trying to tear his eyes from her
face. She immediately hung her head, doing her best to look like
she was going to cry.

“And have him kill
me sooner?” she replied, managing to get her voice to break in just
the right place.

“I...”

“I'm really cold,
and I bet you don't earn enough to pay for a posh hooker like me.”
She looked down at her own body, inviting him to drink the sight of
her bare skin in, but he still didn't move.

“Right now, just
someone to warm me up a bit would be payment enough. I could work
my magic and you could get something out of keeping guard all
night.”

Finally, his
resolve crumbled and he closed the gap between them. After watching
him take a brief, nervous look at her she reached out her arms and
pulled him closer, pretending to be as eager as he was.

As soon as he was
close enough she brought her knee up into his groin as hard as she
could. He collapsed to one side, a small whimper escaping his mouth
while his hands clutched his balls.

Before he could
recover, she'd grabbed the key from his belt and unlocked one hand.
While she was reaching for the other, he shouted for help.

“Crap,” she said
and lashed out at him with her foot, catching him in the stomach
and knocking the wind out of him enough that she managed to get her
other hand free.

Using a swift blow
to the face that Tom had taught her, she then knocked him out and
brought herself down into a crouching position. Fuelled entirely by
adrenaline, she managed to get herself free from the restraints
before the other guard came in to see what had happened.

Not giving him
time to react, she ran at him and growled in the fiercest manner
she could. Just as she'd hoped, instead of backing out and locking
her in, he responded to her challenge and braced himself for her
impact.

Before she reached
him, she moved to one side and grabbed the discarded stool nearby.
Letting her momentum propel her past him, she swung it backwards
and down, catching him behind his legs and dropping him to his
knees.

As he tried to
turn and get back up again she ran back, jumped and used all her
body weight to bring the stool down over his head.

The clang it
caused echoed around the tiled room when he slumped to the floor,
but she didn't wait to see if anyone noticed the noise. Within
seconds she was out the door, running full out in the dim light of
the badly lit basement area.

While she climbed
the stairs and felt confident no one was coming she slowed herself
so she wouldn't make a sound and crouched a little lower.

Just as she'd
hoped, the door at the top was slightly ajar. It really didn't fit
the warped door frame anymore. Once she reached it, she crouched
fully behind it and used both hands to push it out a few inches.
The corridor on the other side was better lit, but she didn't see
anyone.

Knowing there were
at least three more people on the base, Amelia opened the door just
wide enough for her body to slip through, wincing as her back
touched the door frame on the way. They'd really done a number on
her.

She tiptoed down
the hallway towards the exit, glancing behind her every few
seconds. After slipping back into the abandoned cloak room, she
paused. If she was going outside she'd need something on her feet,
and probably a coat as well. It was cold enough in the building
that her toes were numb and her fingers hurt. She could only
imagine it was worse outside.

Just as she was
rooting around for a pair of boots small enough they might fit, she
heard a noise. She looked up and towards the open door into the
room, but no one was there.

After listening
for a couple of seconds, she went back to her search. She had just
picked up the smallest boots she could find when the swish of
fabric caught her ear.

Not hesitating,
Amelia shifted her body sideways. A knife, followed by a hand,
swung down where she'd stood only a second before, and she spun to
see the most familiar of all the faces.

Despite having
beaten this man before she'd had any training, the knife in his
hand made her nervous. As he swung the blade at her again she
barely ducked in time. The moves Tom had taught her took over, and
she grabbed the hand, twisting the arm and spinning underneath
it.

The Russian
overbalanced into one of the coat racks, but she didn't let go of
his hand. She yanked on his fingers, pulling them back until he
snarled and struggled, entangling himself in the coats. When he
dropped the knife, she caught it.

Without thinking,
she stabbed into the pile of coats and person. There was a gurgled
response and then silence as he bled out the gash in his throat,
his hands hindered from stopping it by the fabric all over the
place. Not that he could have stopped it; she'd caused far too much
damage.

Feeling horrified
at what she'd done, she dropped the weapon and backed away until
she tripped herself into another coat. More burning pain rippled
through her back and reminded her that she needed to cover up.

Within seconds,
she'd pulled the boots on and laced them up. They were a couple of
sizes too big for her dainty feet but far better than nothing. She
then grabbed what looked like the most intact coat and shrugged it
over her shoulders, hissing her breath out through her teeth as it
moved over the skin on her back.

Once she had it
wrapped around her and held in place, she rolled the sleeves up far
enough she could still use her hands. She still had at least one
more person to deal with, and already her limbs were feeling a
little heavier. Adrenaline only helped for so long.

After taking a
deep breath, Amelia crept to the next room, and almost sighed aloud
with relief when she saw no one else. Hopefully the rest of her
captors were sleeping somewhere and she could get out without
waking them. However, the hardest part was still to come.

When she reached
the door to the outside world she glanced behind her one last time
to check she was alone. It wouldn't help to have guards in front of
her and behind.

She took a couple
of seconds to compose herself, knowing she had to move fast once
she opened the door, and placed her hand on the rusty metal handle.
If she was going to get out of this she had to take a risk.

Yanking the handle
down, she threw her body weight into the door. It gave way under
the force and she found herself spilling out into a foot of
snow.

“Yob,” the guard
said, dropping his lit cigarette. Amelia made use of his hesitation
and righted herself, too close to him for him to easily shoot her.
Thankfully, he seemed more surprised to see that she wasn't one of
his comrades than that she was out there, and merely raised his
eyebrows at her.

“Hi,” she said as
she stepped closer. A second later she thumped him as hard as she
could in the face. He brought his gun up but his nose gushed blood
and his eyes watered, making him wobble his aim all over the
place.

Trying not to
react to the fear, Amelia stepped to one side and used another move
Tom had taught her to sweep the guy off his feet. His finger
depressed the trigger as he did, sending bullets in an arc up
towards the sky.

She hammered
several more punches to his face while holding onto the edge of the
gun so he couldn't point it towards her. Eventually he went limp,
but not before she heard a commotion from inside the building.

With her heart
pounding in her chest, Amelia slammed the door shut again and used
the rifle to prop the handle up. She doubted it would slow the
people inside by much, but it would give her a little time to get
farther away.

After a brief
glance at the sky to find the North Star, Amelia started running
west. She didn't know how far into Russia she was, but she knew
west would eventually lead her somewhere else. If she got lucky she
would find somewhere to hide or get help on the way, but if not,
another country would definitely provide her with safety.

It only took a few
minutes for the sounds of pursuit to reach her ears, and Amelia put
a final amount of effort into running, her feet numb from cold and
her legs rapidly going the same way.

While she ran, she
rolled her sleeves back down again to try and cover her hands and
keep the heat in. Combined with the heat her body was producing,
this kept her core warm enough to keep going, but her legs ached
and felt heavy.

Tromping through
the snow soon weighed her down even further, and only five minutes
after leaving the safety of the building, Amelia had to slow and
give her body some respite.

As far as she
could tell she hadn't been spotted, but she knew she was leaving
trail marks in the snow. They wouldn't need to see her, just follow
where she led. Knowing this would just get her caught before she
could get away, Amelia looked for firmer ground, but she was in the
middle of several fields and needed to get to an edge before she
stood a chance.

Risking going the
wrong way, she steered more to the south and the nearest hedge. As
soon as she reached it she noticed that, instead of the snow being
more compacted or thinner, the wind had blown it towards this end
and made large drifts that she sank into up to her knees.

After grunting her
frustration, she waded to a gap in the hedge and pushed through.
Another field opened up before her, but this side of the hedge was
more sheltered and she finally got the desired result.