"Hello?"
"Hello. Am I speaking to Mr. Mycroft Holmes?"
"Yes, this is he. Who is this?"
"Irene Adler. I'm assuming you've heard of me."
"What, the one from the tabloids? How did you get this number?"
"It doesn't matter how I got it, Mr. Holmes. What you do need to worry about is the next headline I'll be featured in...along with one of your masters' closest relations."
"What are you talking about?"
"You know my line of work. And both of us know that there is but one pretty young blueblood who has a penchant for the whip. I'd even go so far as to say she has always craved that type of attention, since it was the only one she seemed to get growing up. A little sad, don't you think?"
"Ms. Adler, if you're looking to blackmail the British Royal family, I'm afraid you're not the first to come forward with tall tales."
"Is it really in the realm of disbelief, Mr. Holmes?"
"Excuse me a moment, I need to check a message."
"That's from me. A little preview of what you might or might not see on the newsstands."
"...oh."
"Not so tall a tale now, isn't it? And there's more, so much more where that came from."
"What is it that you want, Ms. Adler?"
"To let you know that these photographs exist. Not to worry, I have no plans of selling these to the papers. Unless you do something that will upset me."
"And what is it that will upset you?"
"People who don't keep in line. I like it when people are exactly where I need them to be, when I need them to be."
"What is it that you need in exchange for these photographs? Money? Favour?"
"Neither, Mr. Holmes. Like I said, I just need you to be there where, and when I need you to be. And that includes your masters."
"I'm not quite sure I understand."
"You will soon. In the meantime, keep this number. I'll call you again when I'm ready to negotiate."
Irene ended the call with a smile on her face. She had made the call at half past midnight, which, according to Moriarty's data, was around the time Mycroft Holmes went to bed.
He probably won't be sleeping any time soon, Irene wagered, and chuckled to herself at the thought of one of Britain's foremost intelligence officers scrambling to do damage control.
She slipped her phone in the pocket of her dressing gown while keeping her Blackberry camera phone firmly in her other hand. That would be the last time she would be transmitting any data from this phone. Tonight, she will have to disable every uplink or connection if she were to keep its contents not only safe, but unique and valuable.
Fingers on keys, she worked around the settings until she turned the camera phone into nothing more than a storage device. Still giving it a firm grip, she rose from her bed and headed for the parlour downstairs. The lights were all out, and the only illumination was from the street lamps outside but she didn't need to see clearly to know what she needed to do. She had done this dozens of times ever since guarding the camera phone became her life.
Once in the parlour, she felt around the mantelpiece, found the buttons and pressed it. The mirror before her rose with a murmur of whirrs to reveal a cleverly hidden safe she'd had installed ever since she moved into the flat.
Still in the dim light, but with a great degree of familiarity, she pressed the key code to the safe and slipped her camera phone inside.
She let her fingers linger for a moment. This camera phone had been a double edged sword. The information within it had given her the life she was enjoying now, while at the same time bringing her closer to death. If she hadn't been so blinded...if she hadn't given in to the desire to have more than what she had...if she hadn't contacted Moriarty...
Irene shook her head and closed the safe. There was no use dwelling on 'what ifs'. The only thing that can be done is to move forward with her plans. To make Moriarty think she's playing by his rules in this twisted game. Then maybe she'll be lucky enough to escape with her life.
With a deep sigh, she straightened herself and blindly searched for the buttons to lower the mirror again.
The room suddenly brightened before she could press it. She spun around, fully expecting Kate by the door but was instead met by the sight of a man in dark clothing, with a gun aimed at her head.