She stepped off the plane and into the shuttle that would take her to the Heathrow terminal. The first thing she noticed was the smell. It smelled so very different here than it does at home. It was colder, and she couldn't locate any little pieces of wattle or sunburnt dust sifting in the air.
She was feeling a little uneasy. She had been feeling this way from about ten minutes after Sherlock Holmes left her yesterday. Something wasn't right. She was torn between the knowledge that Sherlock Holmes had died and the fact that she had met him the day before. She knew he was dead. She's seen the footage. It was all over you-tube. When it was taken down from one account another three put it up. No-one wanted to forget about the fraud that had killed himself. But... Yesterday... It couldn't have been him, but it must have been, those quick, cat-like eyes of his, touching nothing and observing everything. Only Sherlock Holmes can look at someone the way he did...does?
She'd been thinking about it all throughout the plane trips.
Her interview with Dr. John Watson would be on in four hours. Should she tell him? If she tells him then anything Sherlock was planning to do would go up the creek without a paddle and if she was wrong... a random Sherlock Holmes look-alike was talking to her. It would get the poor bloke's hopes up. If she didn't tell him... he'd be living with all the pain that his friend was gone until he came back... if he came back. There were too many variables. Why did everything have to be so complicated?
Eleanor hauled her luggage off the belt and headed for the taxi rank. If she could find it.
After walking around in circles for about ten minutes a song from one of her favourite musicals came up on her iPod. As the singer talked about his sadistic tendencies leading to his career in dentistry two men began walking alongside her.
"You're going to try and rape me or something, are you?" she queried the air. She was trying not to make eye contact.
"You call out for help and no-one finds your body," the man on her left stated plainly.
"Perish the thought."
As the song on her iPod neared a close she quietly took a large breath. She took two quick, side-long glances to make sure the two men weren't watching her too closely.
"FIRE!" Eleanor screamed and bolted into the nearest group of people. She left go of her suitcase, no point in carrying around extra weight. Eleanor knew the men would be following her, but other people had seen them now. She ran through the crowd who were now stopping the two men who tried to take her away. A security guard strode up to her and asked her to come with him. Eleanor complied with him.
The security guard was leading her down some back corridors and towards an exit.
"You're not taking me in for questioning, are you?"
"No."
"I suppose you're going to take me to your leader then?"
"Pretty much," the security guard breathed as he opened the exit door for her.
A dark Mercedes was parked in the alleyway.
"Are you going to tie me up now or later?" she queried.
"We may as well do it now, save time if the boss man wants to see you the moment we arrive."
"Fair enough then," she said, simply. She held her wrists together behind her back and turned around so the guard could bind her. She casually tensed her muscles.
"May I ask, were you bribed or did you always work for your current boss?" Eleanor asked, keeping things casual.
"Oh I always worked for Moriarty. Nobody thinks that a guard would be the one working with the enemy, do they?"
"Good point."
"I do hope you don't try to tense your wrists and ankles as I bond them."
"I wouldn't dream of it." Idiot, dreaming and doing are two different events. Heh, heh, heh.
He opened the backdoor for her. She sat down while he tied up her ankles.
"It's nothing personal, just so you know."
"What isn't?" She queried the guard and he finished the final knot.
"This. All of it. The kidnapping, the bondage, and the gag I haven't put on you yet. It's nothing personal, the boss just thinks you know something that we need to get out of the way. You understand?"
"Nah, it's cool. This isn't the first time I've been tied up and thrown in the back of a car."
He gave her a look that said uh...what?
"Not in a fetish sort of way, a legit 'we are kidnapping you' way," she supplied.
"Ah."
He stood up and dusted his knees off. Then he turned to the front of the car and opened the door. He pulled out a small, khaki box and opened the lid. He took out one of those gags that has one of those little rubber ball that fits into a person's mouth. He put the box away then turned back to Eleanor.
"Sorry about all of this," he said finally.
"Think nothing of it, sir," she replied just before he gagged her. She knew full well it's best to comply with the enemy while they think they have the upper hand. She knew she was going straight to the interrogation area and they got her out of that damned airport she spent nearly 15 minutes trying to find a way out of. That was certainly a bonus.
She lay in the back of the car. The security guard was about to shut the door when she started knocking on the back of the chair in front of her.
"What?"
She gestured towards the seatbelt.
"Oh," said the guard with no ounce of intelligence in his voice. He leaned in and did up the seatbelt for her. He shut the door. Eleanor snuggled into the back of the backseat of the car while the corrupt guard got behind the steering wheel and drove off.
Then she remembered that she had left her luggage in the airport. F***