The Ambitious Orphan (6 page)

Her fears seemed
to be growing since he'd met her, however. She was so fragile in
comparison to both of them. It was easy to forget that she couldn't
achieve everything they could. No matter how intelligent she was,
she would never be able to reach their level. She would die too
soon.

Pushing the
thought aside, Mycroft looked through all the reports he'd been
sent on what was happening in Ukraine. The official cover story was
that the Ukrainians in that area wanted Russian control. It wasn't
entirely unbelievable, as quite a few of them did want exactly
that.

As he perused the
documents, he put together the best plan for how to stop there
being any more bloodshed. It would require him to negotiate a few
agreements between some of the involved parties, but he was sure
Mark Turner could come to the rescue. It seemed this war would end
before it had really begun.

After thinking
about what all the interested parties would want in return for
their cooperation, Mycroft sent a few messages. He never showed up
to a negotiation without knowing exactly what he could offer.

As soon as that
was in place, he looked over the details he had for Nesterov. By
now the Russian would know that Amelia wasn't on Ukrainian soil. It
wouldn't take him much longer to realise she was back in the
UK.

So far, none of
this border checks had flagged the man as being in the country, not
even on a fake passport, but that didn't mean he wasn't there for
sure. Having checks was only so secure. Mycroft couldn't be
everywhere at once.

The rush of cold
air as Mycroft stepped out of the Russian embassy ruffled his hair
and immediately made the hair stick up on the back of his neck. He
tried to ignore his discomfort as he walked to the waiting car.

“Home,” he said to
Daniels, his mind still in the office suite he'd just left. Almost
six hours earlier, he'd gone in to discuss the current invasion of
the Crimean area of Ukraine by Russian forces, with what had been
the closest Russia had to a counterpart of him.

So far, there was
very little that could be done. If either country backed down now
there would probably be more blood spilt from unhappy citizens
rioting in the streets. It seemed a few of Mycroft's reports had
underestimated how much the pro-Russian people in Ukraine actually
wanted to be part of Russia. Both of the countries' leaders were
also very stubborn.

After going back
and forth almost the entire time, all he'd managed to get them to
agree on was holding a referendum in the already occupied area of
Crimea. It wasn't as much progress as he'd wished for, but it was
something that would reduce violence.

Considering the
situation, there was little violence already, but he knew if it
wasn't handled well there could easily be more, and Amelia had
begged him to reduce it as only he could. For her sake, he'd
decided to do what his position allowed. In a day, he'd done a
reasonable amount, but he knew it was a conflict that could take
many months, if not a few years, to sort out.

Just as Daniels
was pulling up outside his house, he received a message from his
secretary.

Nesterov
spotted coming into Bristol under alias of Vadik Dyatlov. Plane
landed several minutes ago, but not through customs. Shall I issue
order to arrest?

Although Mycroft
could possibly have Nesterov arrested before he left the airport,
he knew it would make the man's capture the responsibility of
whoever was on duty at the small facility. Given how good Nesterov
was at evading capture, the last thing he wanted was for him to
escape and become even more cautious. Amelia was the one most in
danger, and Mycroft couldn't make another mistake with her life.
Not only would he never forgive himself, she'd expressly pointed
out her decision to trust him.

No. Let him
through. Keep an eye on his movements. I'll have one of ours pick
him up.

Mycroft then sent
messages to the two agents he had in that area, as well as Tom. At
that precise moment, Amelia was having a lesson with her martial
arts instructor. Just as she'd told him she would, she'd gone back
to Bath that day and agreed to another lesson while she was there.
If Tom couldn't protect her from a man like Nesterov, then none of
his people could.

On top of needing
to protect Amelia, he had assured the Queen that he would take care
of this particular terrorist leader once and for all. Once Nesterov
was brought to him, it would take him only a few days to find out
who had been commanding him, and then Mycroft could begin his final
manhunt.

“I'll need the car
again in a few hours,” Mycroft said as he walked indoors, not even
glancing at Daniels but continuing to send messages out using his
phone. It was important he had every little detail from his agents
as they tracked the man towards Bath. He would need to feed
constant instructions back.

He's left the
airport. Bought ticket to main Bristol train station.

Mycroft didn't
need any more information to know exactly where Nesterov was
planning to go next. The Bristol train station had very regular
trains to Bath. The Russian really didn't like to have unfinished
business.

***

The sound of
Amelia's panting filled the room as Tom gave her a break. For the
last twenty minutes they had been sparring against each other,
Amelia trying to land a hit on the much quicker and more practised
teacher. Not a single lesson had resulted in her scoring anything
even close to a hit yet, but she hadn't been expecting to during
this lesson.

“You're more
hesitant. What's holding you back?” Tom asked, blunt as always.

“You know we said
we couldn't ever talk about the things that happened as a result of
Mr Holmes,” she replied to remind him. He nodded and then paused to
think for a few seconds.

“You had a real
fight of some kind, didn't you?”

“Something like
that.”

“Well, you're
still alive and you look well enough. I'm going to assume my
training saw you through whatever it was.”

She nodded but
didn't meet his eyes. No part of her wanted him to guess that she'd
killed a man.

“Everyone who
works for him gets to that point eventually, Amelia. It was bound
to happen, and I know you probably feel a little disgusted with
yourself right now, but this is the world we're all a part of. I
know you wouldn't have hurt an innocent. And he's not the kind of
man who sends us to hurt the innocent. In the long term, you've
probably saved others from harm. Hold on to that thought.”

“He said something
similar.”

“Then he gave you
more comfort than he usually does. It's also not something you
should have told me. But enough talking. We'll spar again, and this
time I really want you to try and hit me. One of these days I want
to leave here with at least a large bruise, if not a broken bone.”
Tom grinned to take the edge off his words, but she knew he was
serious.

After taking a
moment to push back her fears and the distracting memories of
everything that had happened in the Russian compound, Amelia flung
herself at her teacher. Reacting far quicker than she thought
humanly possible, he side-stepped and punched outwards. Just in
time, she blocked it with her arm and grunted in pain. There would
be a bruise there in a few hours.

Fifteen minutes
later she was in an exhausted heap on the floor. She'd still not
managed to hit him, and she wasn't sure she could get up after the
last throw he'd performed on her unwilling body.

“Better,” he said
and helped her up.

She found herself
shaking as she stood, her body drained of what little energy she'd
had left. Having a lesson after spending the day travelling might
not have been the best idea, but Myron had insisted upon it.

She was still
thinking of him as Myron. It was better than making a mistake and
calling him Mycroft to his face, but another night at Sebastian's
house had given her time to think about the strange findings. She
still couldn't think of another good explanation.

Tom handed her a
chocolate bar and a bottle of water.

“Get some energy
back.”

Leaving her to
eat, he went over to his phone. It had uncharacteristically buzzed
during their fight, and she caught a quick frown as it flitted
across his face while he read the message. A few seconds later, he
tucked the phone into his pocket and smiled at her.

“Do you want to
continue?” he asked, giving her an option he wouldn't normally. So
far, every lesson had been exactly the length he said it would be.
No more, and definitely no less. It was an offer she was intrigued
by, especially given how curious his message had made her.

However, after
thinking about it, she shook her head. It would prolong the
feelings of fear that rose within her when she thought of sleeping
in her own home alone, but she knew she couldn't put it off longer.
Myron was right. Fears were meant to be faced, and it was time she
dealt with this one. If need be, she could always head back to
London. He'd allowed her that.

It didn't help
that Myron had evidently had a second reason to want her out of
London. It didn't bode well when there was something he wouldn't
tell her. Still, she'd told him she trusted him, and that meant she
also had to go home at some point.

“Finish that
first,” Tom said, cutting through her thoughts. “When you feel like
you've got your energy back, head home.”

She nodded,
noticing there was a steely light to his eyes and his jaw was a
little more set than normal. If he hadn't once told her that he'd
never talk about his missions for Myron she'd ask him what was
going on, but she knew he wouldn't answer her. It would be better
if she stayed focused and tried to work it out for herself. Not
only would that be more likely to yield a result, but if she did
figure something out that Myron wouldn't have wanted to know, she
could point to his own training in her self-defence of discovering
it.

Normally Tom beat
her to the changing rooms, but she watched him linger today,
fumbling with his equipment and the mats.

“See you at the
next lesson,” she said, trying to act more casual than she felt. He
nodded and waved his goodbye, giving her no choice but to hurry
off.

Feeling refreshed
after the food and drink, and pre-occupied enough that she wasn't
thinking about her actions, Amelia was dressed and ready to leave
in record time. She tried not to think about how it would feel
alone in the house as she walked out of the fitness centre.

The chill in the
late February air made her shiver and shrug her coat collar up a
little higher. The night was clear, showing a full set of stars, or
at least as many of them as could be seen with all the street
lights in Bath.

Trying to push
away her fears, Amelia set out for her home. It was an easy walk
from the centre, along a few roads and then down one of Bath's many
hills until she arrived at her street. Her feet walked it
automatically, allowing her mind to take in the sights around
her.

Although she'd
enjoyed being in London, there was something peaceful and
bubble-like about the small city that helped her feel pleased to be
back. It had its own feel and atmosphere that over the years had
come to be so familiar she only noticed it when she came back after
a vacation.

As Amelia was
thinking this, the sound of light footsteps on the pavement behind
her came to her ears. A frown flitted across her face and she
strained her ears to hear more.

It wasn't entirely
uncommon to see others out walking even in the evening, but given
everything that had happened to her, she was already worried it
wasn't something harmless. Doing everything she could to look
relaxed, Amelia gradually upped her speed.

At the next
junction, she used the opportunity to look for traffic to glance
behind her. There was a man dressed in a thick winter coat, with a
hat pulled so far down over his face she couldn't see much, and
only twenty or so metres behind her.

With so little
skin showing, she had no idea if he was someone she knew, but she
decided she was going to force a resolution if she was being
followed. Right where she stood was the last well-lit busy place
before she turned down a small street and put herself in further
danger.

She put her hands
in her coat pockets as if she was looking for something, then
unbuttoned the garment to reach inside. With the arm he wouldn't be
able to see, she stretched for one of the blades tucked up against
her back while she continued the charade with the other.

“Don't bother,”
the man said and stopped several metres away from her. She raised
both eyebrows. “I believe a mutual acquaintance of ours sends his
regards from London.”

Amelia kept the
knife in her hand but relaxed a little.

“Does he now?” she
replied, not entirely sure she should trust whoever was talking to
her. It wasn't someone she recognised.

“You're better
trained than I expected, but I can't walk you home.” He gave her a
brief glance and then closed the last of the distance.

“Got a lighter?”
he asked more loudly and with an entirely different accent.

“No,” she replied,
patting her pockets again. “That's what I was looking for. Don't
you just hate that when you're dying for a smoke?”

“Completely. Have
a good evening, love.”

“You too,” she
replied and hurried onwards, speeding up so he could follow her at
a distance again.

Knowing Myron was
taking her protection seriously both alarmed and comforted her as
she made her way along. It worried her that the elder Holmes felt
it necessary, but at the same time she knew she had back-up, if
anything did happen.