The Ambitious Orphan (10 page)

“Take Amelia to
her hotel, Daniels,” Mycroft said before she could even move to get
out of the car as well.

“Will you let me
know if the information is right?” Amelia asked as he went to get
out. He sighed, but paused to answer her.

“Of course. If
it's not correct you can be sure I will inform you that your
actions interfered in my interrogation.”

Without giving her
a chance to ask what would happen if the lead turned out to be
solid, Mycroft got out of the car and went into his house.

As he sank into
his chair at his desk, he felt himself relax. So far, the day's
work had been far more hands-on than he liked. Not only had he left
London, but he'd performed the interrogation himself, even if that
had provided him with a small sense of retribution on Amelia's
behalf.

His thoughts were
also unsettled regarding his protégée. A couple of times recently
she'd acted in a way he wouldn't have approved of, yet still pulled
off the overall task. Not only that, she was now an official agent
of the United Kingdom. That she was reporting to him was a distinct
benefit, but he knew she'd be insistent on being involved in his
work and trained even more than before.

The original
agreement he'd made with her had been superseded, although that had
unravelled when he decided to go into Europe to rescue her. He
couldn't really be annoyed at her when his own actions had changed
their relationship. However, it still meant things were less on his
terms than before.

While he could, in
theory, pick and choose what Amelia did, the royal family were now
expecting him to make use of her and keep her out of trouble. And
it wouldn't be surprising for his younger brother to attempt to
lead her right into trouble. The younger Holmes had less regard for
danger and a higher opinion of Amelia's talents. Without keeping a
close eye on her, it could cause problems.

To put his mind at
rest, Mycroft decided to keep the CCTV footage of the
soon-to-be-hers hotel room up on the side of his screen. For now,
he would watch her himself.

With that done, he
returned his attention to Nesterov's commander, Krylov. The first
report from an agent currently undercover in Russia had come
through.

Finally, he could
get back to the work he loved most. Information gathering from
behind a desk. From this one room he'd solved many political,
economic, and logistical problems. On top of that, over the years
he'd solved countless mysteries of one kind or another and tracked
down countless spies, terrorists and other assorted fugitives. This
sort of work was what he did best.

With a yawn,
Amelia finished getting dressed. She'd put on her final, more
practical outfit that she'd brought with her. Until she knew what
Myron planned to do about Nesterov's commander she didn't want to
be wearing long dresses or restrictive jumpers.

Although she'd
known it might take a while for the name to be confirmed, it had
been well over a day since she'd retrieved the information from
Nesterov, and still Myron had told her nothing.

To while away the
time, she'd read through the few emails she'd had on her new status
as an agent, as well as the attached manuals, information sheets
and general rules and codes of conduct. There were a lot of them to
learn, but most of them seemed to be based upon being polite,
sensible and keeping important secrets. Nothing illogical.

After she'd done
that, she had taken a look at the coded letter she'd found in
Myron's French copy of The Count of Monte Cristo. So far, she
wasn't sure where to begin. Without a starting point, she was
unsure what even one letter would translate to, and she had nothing
to go on, except for the possibility of the first and last lines
being commonly used words.

After a few hours
of looking at that, she'd given up and nursed the headache it had
given her. It seemed some codes were still beyond her ability to
solve

This morning,
knowing that Myron had tried to keep her out of danger before by
leaving her behind, Amelia had decided to go back to his house and
find out what stage the investigation was at. Now she'd eaten,
dressed and made herself presentable to the elder Holmes brother,
she walked down to the hotel reception.

Before she could
walk out the front door she noticed the familiar face of the
younger Holmes.

“Sebastian,” she
said, smiling in greeting.

“Hello, Amelia. I
was just trying to get the receptionist to tell me if you were
here. Seems you're not booked in under your name.”

“No, your brother
had me registered in under Dalton.”

“Well that's not
particularly hard to work out.” Sebastian frowned.

“It stumped you,
didn't it?” she asked while chuckling. This made him grin, and soon
he was walking her outside.

For the first time
in several days the sun shone, and Amelia eagerly turned her face
to bask in it for a few seconds.

“I came to see if
there had been any progress finding Nesterov's employer.”

“If there has
been, I've not been told yet. I was about to go and find out.
You're welcome to join me.”

“I'd love to.”
Sebastian held the taxi door open for her and followed her
inside.

“I'm also quite
keen to find out what your brother has done about this dreadful war
business. He said he'd do what he could,” she said once they were
on their way to Myron's.

“You know, a lot
of women would be flattered that a man was willing to start a war
for them.”

Amelia raised her
eyebrows so Sebastian elaborated.

“There are many
old wars that were started over a woman's beauty. Cleopatra herself
had six wars started because of hers. And you're far more
attractive than she ever was.”

“How do you
know?”

“Genetics and the
nature of population. We're all getting closer to ideals of looks
and attractiveness as the dominant genes spread throughout the gene
pool. You're so many generations down the line that it's a
statistical certainty.”

Amelia shook her
head and tried not to laugh at the absurd idea. In some ways, it
was funny to think about, but she knew war wasn't something
light-hearted.

“Well, I'm not
Cleopatra. I'd much prefer it if the men who found me attractive
didn't start wars in some effort to win me. Or for any other
reason.”

“Duly noted. I
assume family feuds, duels and other manly acts of devotion are
still acceptable ways to win the fair lady's hand?”

This time Amelia
did laugh, but she didn't answer the question. It was just a little
too much like flirting for her comfort, and she'd only recently
told Myron that nothing was happening between the younger Holmes
and her. The last thing she wanted to cause was a rift between the
brothers by making both think she was interested.

They stayed in
companionable silence until the taxi pulled up outside the elder
Holmes residence. Sebastian was the first to hurry out, leaving
Amelia to pay she bill. She sighed as she handed the money over.
The younger Holmes could be irritating when it came to
responsibility.

Although the gate
to the house sat closed, Sebastian pulled a small device from his
pocket and pressed a button. In response, the gate swung open. If
Amelia hadn't seen him do this the last time they came, she would
have been surprised.

It looked
home-made but well-constructed and was obviously regularly used,
given how little Daniels reacted when they strode up the small
driveway to the house. The chauffeur was waxing Myron's car and
gave Sebastian a nod and Amelia a warm smile.

“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.