A/N: This is my first Sherlock fiction, so please Sherlockians take it easy on me, any improvements or help will be appreciated. I'm not sure what type of guns an assassin would use, so after a quick scope on the internet I picked a couple. Please leave comments on what I can do to improve or what you think of it. SO here goes, enjoy.
Mary exited the clinic where she was standing in for a nurse who was on maternity leave; she smiled at the porter who walked past her pushing a patient in a wheelchair. Walking along the sidewalk she headed to the corner shop to get some fresh fruit and then made her way to her flat. It was a long walk but she preferred to walk rather than wasting money on the underground or taxis. Her routine was simple, each day it was get up, go to work, stop at the corner shop afterwards to get fruit, and walk home, except Mary had a secret.
She unlocked the door to her flat and her eye caught the blinking light of her answer machine. Only a couple of people had that number so she knew what this was about, it had something to do with her extra-curricular activities. She smiled walking over to the machine; she hadn't had any jobs in a while she pressed the red button and a voice filled the flat. "A you have an assignment, check your mail for who the target is, just remember one thing, it must be a clean job, you got it?" the line went dead, and Mary shook her head at the curtness of the voice, she knew it was her employer, the voice was manipulated of course, you never knew who would intercept messages, and no one wants any of this to get out, especially not her. She quickly walked over to her laptop, starting up the aging machine, before walking to her room to slip out of her scratchy uncomfortable uniform. She threw the uniform on the floor, while rummaging around for something more comfortable to wear, finally deciding on yoga pants and a tank top.
She then went back to her laptop opening the mail program. She quickly scanned through the particulars of the assignment, mentally making notes on what would work best. She had just received a new toy yesterday she was dying to test and tonight seems like a good night to take it out for a test run. When she was done reading the mail, she deleted it, running a cleaning program on her machine that will delete any trace of the email. Emails could be traced if you looked really hard. Most people thought that by just deleting it on their laptops or mobile phones that email mysteriously disappears, Mary knew better. She then made herself something to eat, and while she waited for it to cook she quickly went to her room.
She had a special room fitted at the back of her closet. Some people would call it a panic room, but for her it was her sanctuary. In there she kept all her side jobs essentials, she felt alive when she went in there. She punched in the number on the keypad, quickly slipping through the door before it closed behind her. She hit the light switch watching as all the spotlights lit up, to her left were her preferred clothes she wore on jobs, all freshly laundered. To her right were extra passports, different ID cards with several different aliases on them. A small pile of money, different currencies, in case she might need it. And directly in front of her was her pride and joy. Mounted to the wall were different types of guns, her sniper rifle taking centre stage, and around it several different kinds of weapons. She walked over to the unopened box, quickly cutting the tape opening it; she took a deep breath as she took out the British Army Browning L9A1. She ordered it online a couple of weeks ago and had been dying to hold one of her own in her hands again.
She slipped it into the customised duffle bag, grabbing an outfit and head back out of the room, checking that it had locked behind her. Mary threw the outfit onto her bed, walking to the door placing the duffle bag there, and then headed to the kitchen to enjoy her dinner. After dinner she went into the bathroom. She had the same ritual before each assignment, she removed the makeup she wore for the day, then stepped into the shower, washing her hair and then her body, letting the warm water run over her back filling the small bathroom with steam. She then always slipped into her best pair of lace underwear, loving the way it always made her feel feminine especially in her line of work. She then sprayed her favourite perfume, Clair de Lune. This was her signature fragrance, she knew it could potentially give her away, but she liked to think that rumours would go round. She wanted her assignments to catch a waft of her perfume, and this would strike fear in their hearts, they would know what would follow. She then dried her hair, before slipping into the black slacks she preferred, pulling on the black turtle neck sweater. She put on the black boots she liked, heading back into the bathroom to finish her makeup.
It was getting late, from the chime of the church bell near her flat she knew it was past 11 already, quickly glancing out of the window she could see a black van pulling up outside her building. She glanced in the mirror, checking her makeup, her eyebrows were freshly waxed, and eyeliner applied meticulously, a dab of mascara and her signature red lips. She smoothed her blond hair back from her face, she could hear the horn of the car blaring, "Fuck" she said under her breath. Slipping on a black beanie, she walked to the door, grabbing the black duffle bag. She pulled the door closed behind her, running down to the waiting van.
Sliding open the side door, she threw her bag on the seat before climbing in. "Fuck Jay, do you want to whole bloody neighbourhood to wake up, who trained you?" The spotted youth eyed her in the rear-view mirror, "Sorry A, please I will try to do better next time. Please don't tell the boss." he stammered, she could see in the reflection the youth was sweating profusely, she took a deep breath, leaning her head against the head rest, "That's okay Jay. We all make mistakes; some can just cost you your life." She rolled her eyes, mentally going over her assignment. Jay set the van in motion, driving fast through the almost empty streets of London. This assignment bothered Mary a little, she had read about the target in the news paper, but she thought it was all just rumours as it only appeared in the newspapers owned by Magnussen. She rubbed her forehead, even that name gave her chills; she never wanted to be on his bad side.
After an hour of driving, Jay turned down a small country lane and Mary could see there was a rather large house at the end of it. Jay parked the van near the hedge and Mary jumped out, as she took her bag she whispered to him "Don't make a sound, don't touch the horn, and don't even turn on your music." He nodded holding his hands away from the steering wheel, not even trying to talk to her when she was in this mood.
She made her way down the drive, sticking to the shadows, she knew the target had a security detail on him, but they were preschool boys compared to her, she walked around the side of the house, looking for an open window, when she got to the back of the rather large building, she spotted a small window that was open. What an idiot she thought to herself. She walked over to the window when she was startled by a cat jumping out of the window. The large white cat gave her a blank stare before sauntering across the lawn. That explains it, she thought. She got to the window, smiling when she saw there was no burglar bars on it. She opened it wider. She reached through the opening, placing her bag on the inside, before hoisting herself through it. She knelt down unzipping her bag, taking out the gun and a silencer, fixing the silencer onto the gun. She checked that the bullets were loaded correctly. Before she got up she heard someone walking past the window. She quickly glanced out of the window, seeing the guard walking past in the opposite direction.
She made her way out of the room, mentally going over the floor plan that was attached to the email. According to the schedule the target would be asleep, so why is the light in the library still on then? She walked to the door, taking care not to make any noise, when she heard a voice on the other side of the door. "Please you've got to help me, I'm sure they will be sending someone soon. I owe a lot of money and this character has got a lot of stuff on me. Please Mr Holmes, I'm begging you." There was a long silence, and Mary leaned closer to the door. "Please Mr Holmes, I swear I didn't do anything." She could hear the man starting to pace around the room, his hurried footsteps told her he was nervous. She held the gun closer, checking that no one was around. Suddenly she heard the man inside the room throw something against the door. "Fucking Sherlock Holmes, who does he think he is." He shouted. Sherlock Holmes that name rang a bell for Mary but she had no time to think about that now. She heard the desk phone ring, "No its fine Gustav, stupid mobile is broken that's all, and go ahead with your duties."
Mary stood up from her crouching position, grabbing the handle of the door, opening the door slowly. She raised the gun, pointing it directly at where her target was sitting. "Don't make any sudden movements, or I will make this as painful as possible." She said walking over to him. She could see fear rising in his eyes as they widened. He held his hand up, "Please, you don't understand, I'll do anything, I will give you more than they did. Please." Mary rolled her eyes at him; she lowered her gun slowly, standing in front of him. "O really" she said holding her head to the side, fluttering her eyelashes at him. She could see relief wash over him, playing with her victims always gave her a thrill, but tonight she was tired and wanted to get to her bed, she raised the gun again. "With what money?" she said pulling the trigger, watching the small red dot that had appeared in the middle of his forehead. She walked over to his desk, pulling open the top drawer, finding a small memory stick; she took it, slipping it into her pocket. She then made her way back to the room with her bag. She unscrewed the silencer, slipping it into her bag, and then put on the safety latch of her gun before slipping it into its place in the bag. She got up, checking if the coast was clear, she hoisted herself through the window, jumping down making a soft thud as she landed on the gravel. She checked again to see if the guard was nearby, and when she couldn't see him, she made her way to the shadows, walking towards the van the same way she came.
When she got to the van, she slid open the door, getting in again, and they drove back to London. She was feeling sleepy and taking a look at her watch she knew she wasn't going to get any sleep tonight. They were just entering the city when her phone rang. "Is it done?" the manipulated voice said on the other side. "Yes sir, the memory stick is with Jay, he will deliver it as soon as he dropped me off." The line went dead and Mary shook her head, this is one of the things she didn't get used to. There was no reason anyone didn't have to be polite. When she was dropped off at the curb leading to her building she could see the sun rise. She turned to Jay, "Take this to him, don't make any detours, straight there, you got me?" She closed the door, heading towards the building, she ran up the stairs to her flat, showering and changing into her uniform. She then went to the little room, placing the duffle bag inside of the door. She will unpack it later, she thought to herself as she headed out of the door.
When she walked into the clinic she could see Sarah who was one of the doctors at the clinic, Sarah waved her over. "I just hired the cutest doctor in the world!" she whispered whilst pointing to a man standing outside of the office. Mary rolled her eyes, thinking I just shot a man, when her eyes landed on the man standing there she couldn't help but feel attracted to him. He had greying hair, the bluest eyes she had seen in a long time, the bags under his eyes showed he probably slept as little as she did. She quickly looked him over, before turning back to Sarah, "So what's his name?" she asked without trying to sound too interested. "Doctor John Watson."