Sorry about the wait, but here's the next chapter! It'll give you a little insight as to what Sherlock thinks about Dani, and hopefully, he's not out of character. I tried my best, so tell me what you think!
Sherlock had just opened the envelope and found the phone, discovering that everyone in the police station reads John's blog and that someone had painstakingly gone to great lengths to find a phone similar to the one in the 'Study in Pink' case. Turning it on, he found it had a message.
"You have one new message."
Following that were five blips.
"Is that it?"
"No, that's not it."
Attached to the message, was a photograph. One that was eerily familiar at that.
"Well, what are we supposed to make of that? An estate agent's photo and the bloody Greenwich pips."
"It's a warning."
"A warning?"
"Some secret societies used to send dried melon seeds, orange pips, things like that. Five pips. They're warning us it's going to happen again. I've seen this place before…Dani."
Sherlock started walking out the door and John tried to catch up.
"H-Hang on, what's going to happen again? And what's this got to do with Dani?"
"Boom!"
Sherlock made some hand signals and passed the phone over to John as they left the Yard.
"Look there John. On the mantle. The skull."
"Skull? Wait, isn't that-"
"Yes, and Dani had gone back to her flat when we left. No one would be able to take this photograph without her knowing, so that means…"
He trailed off to let John come to his own conclusions.
"Something's happened to Dani."
"Exactly."
After the taxi had pulled up, Sherlock and John hurried to 221C and knocked on the door.
"Dani! Dani! We need you to let us in!"
Sherlock pressed his ear to the door and heard slow shuffles on what sounded like the floor as well as slurred murmurs. He frowned and turned to Mrs. Hudson's door.
"Mrs. Hudson!"
"Yes, what is it Sherlock?"
"We need the spare key to Dani's room."
"Good heavens, what for? She should be in there already."
Sherlock grabbed her shoulders lightly. "Mrs. Hudson, we don't have time. Someone may have broken in to her room and we don't know what condition she's in right now, but she is obviously unable to answer the door. So give us the spare key."
Mrs. Hudson looked absolutely frightened after that and she hurriedly shuffled back into her room and brought them the spare.
"Oh dear. I hope she's okay. You'll tell me Sherlock, won't you?"
"Yes, yes. Now move."
He took the keys from her fumbling hands and John gently guided her back to her room while Sherlock impatiently unlocked the door and quickly stormed the flat.
"Dani!"
He opened the next door and spotted Dani lying on the ground, trying to get up. She was moving unnaturally, he noticed, and rushed to her side helping her stand. She was extremely unsteady and John had to run over to help him lay her down on the couch. They went to put her on her back, but she immediately protested so they rolled her over onto her stomach as John looked her over.
"Her pupils are dilated and her heart rate's up a bit, but other than that, there's nothing else wrong that I can see Sherlock."
"But why didn't she want to be put on her back?"
His hand reached out and grabbed the back of her shirt, lifting it to find a few red welts and multiple older scars littering her back.
"My God." Lestrade muttered.
"Dani. Who could've done this to you?"
John gently brushed back her short hair and her unsteady gaze looked up to his. She moved her hand then and began tapping her fingers on the side of the couch in different patterns. Sherlock's eyes widened.
"Morse code. John!"
"I know, Sherlock. Let's see…'I can't tell you now about the old ones.'…'but a woman snuck in the window'…'we fought very little'…'she's not experienced'…'she thought I was a guy and tried to seduce me'?"
"Well I can see why…"
"Shut up, Lestrade. Keep going. What did she look like?"
"She says, 'short, brown hair, red lipstick, pearl white teeth. The perfect woman if you were a man.'"
"Did she say her name or who she was working for?"
"'No. She caught me off guard and drugged me. Then her smug face got on my nerves so I punched her.'"
Sherlock and John smiled at that, and she soon brought her hand up and pointed at the fireplace. Confused, Sherlock looked back over at her as she tapped out one last word before falling unconscious.
"What'd she say, John?"
"She said…'clue'."
Sherlock quickly stood up from beside her and walked over to the fireplace to find a pair of shoes while Lestrade questioned John.
"So, who's this?"
"Dani Evans. She just moved in recently, is an ex-army captain, and has been traveling the word with no real job except being for hire. She actually helped Sherlock and I on the 'Blind Banker' case and has stuck around ever since."
"So she's the one you mentioned? The 'strong headed woman' who's fooled you three times with disguises and is possibly on par with Sherlock?" John nodded. "Well then, I'd give them a couple months."
John smiled. "That's what I thought you'd say. I was going to give it a year. They're both pretty strong headed and they barely recognize feelings, let alone ones for each other. But who knows?"
Lestrade nodded with a smile just as someone's phone went off, making them all jump. Sherlock stood up from where he'd been crouched over the shoes and answered it, putting it on speaker so they could all hear.
"Hello?"
Sobs from a woman drifted from the phone. "H-Hello…s-s-sexy."
"Who is this?"
"I-I sent y-you a little p-present. Just t-ta say 'hi'."
"Who's talking? Why are you crying?"
"I-I'm not crying. I'm typing…And this s-stupid bitch is reading it out."
"The curtain rises."
John looked confused and slightly disturbed. "What?"
"Nothing."
"No, what did you mean?"
"I'd been expecting this for some time…Although, I hadn't expected this to happen."
He gave a short glance at Dani on the couch, hardly noticeable, but John had seen it.
"Twelve h-hours to solve my puzzle, Sherlock. Or I'm going to be s-so naughty."
Sherlock started walking out the door and John's eyes widened when he realized what was happening.
"Sherlock! What about Dani?!"
Sherlock paused for a moment but continued. "She'll be fine. I'll alert Mrs. Hudson. Now hurry up, John!"
John sighed and Lestrade gave a look at the woman unconscious on the couch with a smile.
"I say three months tops."
With that, they all left the flat and went to find out what secrets were held within the shoes.
It was dark. The only light being that shined at me from the figures above. Loud yells and chants echoed in the night and I was whipped by someone on the back. Turning, I saw the woman standing there with a smirk on her face.
"Hurry up and fight, cutie. You don't have much of a choice anyway, remember?"
I heard the cocking of a gun and turned to face my opponent. There, standing across from me was Nick and the moment he laid eyes on me, he backed up and began shaking his head, yelling.
"No! I won't fight her! I wo-"
Bang!
I watched as he fell to the muddied ground. A single gun shot wound to the head. The person who pulled the trigger was Asad. His smirked and then pointed the gun at the next person who was thrown in, leaving me no chance to react to Nick's death. I closed my eyes and readied myself to fight the next person. No matter what, I told myself. No matter what I will fight him. If only to save him from his fate. Opening my eyes, I fell backwards to the ground; mud splashing up onto my hand and face as I shook.
"S-Sherlock?"
"I'm sorry, Dani." He said as he stepped closer. "I can't afford to die."
He came at me and I fought him. Every punch, every kick brought me closer to my own self destruction and when I finally stopped, Sherlock was on the ground and my hands were covered in blood. His blood. Someone patted my cheek and the woman's voice whispered in my ear.
"Good job, cutie. You've just killed Sherlock Holmes."
I woke up breathing hard. A cold sweat covering my body as I quickly stood. I was unsteady, swaying back and forth with little to no balance as I hurried out of the flat. I wasn't recognizing anything. Everything was spinning and mixing with the shadows, distorting my vision into something from my nightmares. I suddenly spotted something recognizable and ran to it, knocking my hip into a small hallway table painfully in the process. Grabbing the handle, I twisted it and nearly fell into the room.
John rushed over to me and held me up while Mrs. Hudson went into the kitchen to fix something to calm me down. Neither of those things mattered to me now though. The only thing that mattered was the curly haired man sitting in a chair with his face pressed to a microscope. I felt the weight fall off my body and I slumped forward, startling John.
"H-Hey! Dani! You okay?!"
I started laughing. Quietly at first and then growing louder as John lead me to the couch. I couldn't help it. It was just too funny that I would get so worried about Sherlock all because of a drug induced nightmare.
"She's hysterical."
That combined with the look John gave me only made me laugh harder. Hysterical?! If only you knew! I continued to laugh until someone slapped me hard across the face. My head snapped to the side at the contact and I blinked a few times before facing my assailant. Grey eyes stared back into my own and Sherlock took a step back and turned towards his microscope.
"She's fine now, John."
"If you say so…but I'm going to double check, okay?"
Sherlock ignored him and I just stared at his back when John knelt in front of me. He took my wrists to check my pulse and then put his hand to my head to check for fever. I scowled and shoved his hand away.
"I'm fine, John."
"No you're not. You were just laughing like a maniac!"
"I just found something funny and the drugs that woman gave me were messing with my system. Okay? It's not like I'm losing my sanity or anything. Now what did you find, Sherlock?"
Sherlock looked back at me in question while John sighed and stepped away from me.
"Who says I found anything?"
I rolled my eyes. "I do. That woman left something behind and I know you've already analyzed it so why don't you fill me in?"
"They were shoes. The owner is one Carl Powers."
"The champion swimmer from 1989 who was claimed to have drowned?"
"Yes. The police never found his shoes, even though I tried to get them interested. He had eczema, which I discovered from skin flakes on the shoelaces."
I nodded and closed my eyes in thought as I tapped my fingers. "So whoever did this started young. Is there anything else? John's giving you looks."
Sherlock glared at John for ruining the surprise. "Yes, actually. While you were out, the police discovered an envelope addressed to me in the building across the street. Most likely, it was the same woman who attacked you who left it there."
"It was a planned bombing and not a gas leak then?"
"Exactly. Inside the envelope we found a phone similar to the phone from one of the cases we had."
"The Study in Pink."
I gave John a look of confusion at what he said and he was about to explain when Sherlock interrupted.
"It's what he calls the case on his blog. Unimportant. Now, on that phone there was a message that played five pips and had a photo of your flat attached."
I nodded. "Right. She did mention something about a picture and 'five pips' you said? Isn't that what secret organizations send as a warning? That means it's going to happen again."
Sherlock nodded, absolutely enthusiastic about my easy understanding of the case and he stood up and began pacing as he continued to explain.
"Yes. And not long after that we received a phone call from a crying woman. She was reading what your assailant typed out for her and gave me nine hours to solve this case."
I smirked. "Sounds interesting. Now will you tell me what you found under that microscope that has you bouncing around the room?"
He pouted, actually pouted when I basically told him I knew that he found something, but answered me anyway as Mrs. Hudson gave me some tea.
"Poison."
"What are you going on about?"
Sherlock slammed his hands on the desk and she practically ran out of the room.
"Clositridium botulinum. It's one of the deadliest poisons on the planet. Carl Powers."
I blinked and my mind connected the dots. "He was murdered. Someone slipped it into his medication."
"Right! Someone introduced it to his medication and two hours later he comes up to London. The poison takes effect, paralyses the muscles, and he drowns."
"Well, how come the autopsy didn't pick that up?"
"It's virtually undetectable and no body would be looking for it."
Sherlock went over to a laptop sitting on the table in the kitchen and began typing something and I felt a bit left out, so I shakily stood and hobbled into the kitchen as well.
"It's one of the reasons I dislike cops, John. They see one reason behind something and ignore all the other possibilities. They though Carl Powers drowned so they wouldn't go looking for another means of death."
Sherlock smiled slightly at me and then proceeded explained to John why the murderer took the shoes in order to hide the poison. I sighed and leaned against the wall to keep the room from tilting slightly, since the drug was still messing with me, when a phone went off. Sherlock went over to the phone and answered the call as a crying woman's voice came over the phone.
"W-Well d-done you. Come and get me."
"Where are you? Tell us where you are!"
She gave us an address and John called the police and bomb squad to take care of the woman. Sherlock went back into the living room and I followed, lying down on his couch as he sat back in his chair. I knew I needed sleep to rid myself of the drug still in my system, but the idea of sleep brought flashbacks of what happened in my flat and I frowned. I've never been afraid of anything after what happened in Korea and now I'm being all chicken because of some stupid woman who caught me off guard and drugged me? Man, I've really sunk low. I sat up and started walking to the door when Sherlock called out to me.
"You're scared."
I stopped, but didn't look back at him. "What makes you think that, Sherlock?"
"You were attacked after being shocked from the death of someone close to you. You were vulnerable and that woman used it against you. She caught you off guard and drugged you as well. Anyone would be frightened-"
"Except you, right Sherlock?"
I turned around and went back to sit down on the chair facing him. He didn't say anything and I shook my head with a small smile, before leaning back into the chair and closing my eyes.
"I do not connect myself with those feelings." He mumbled.
"And I try not to as well, Sherlock. Yet something as simple as this seems to have put a hole in the box that holds my feelings. Nick's death, the woman attacking me, even a dream I had caused me to act like a fear stricken fool and dash down here in a half-drugged state. I went hysterical at the fact that I was acting like that. After everything that has happened to me, I'm surprised I'm even still able to feel. I should've gone mad, Sherlock. And sometimes, I think I already have and I just haven't realized it yet…Am I mad, Sherlock?"
There was silence for a moment as I patiently waited for his answer, but the silence was just long enough for me to fall asleep.
Sherlock looked up at Dani, to find she was asleep. He simply stared at her for a moment, absorbed in his thoughts. Athletic and muscular, but not overly so. Auburn hair that shines a brighter red under the light. Rough, calloused hands from physical work, heavy lifting, and trombone and violin playing. Across the knuckles there are scars from past fighting and even a slight bruise from her fight with the woman earlier. Then there was the panther tattoo on her stomach and the scars across her back. The red welts were most likely from the woman hitting her with…a whip, maybe? But the others were old. Years old and from multiple weapons; knives, whips, hot iron, and something that was hard but left multiple wounds close together. What could she have possibly gone through to earn those?
"Hēi bào." (black panther)
"How do you know of the black panther?"
"Have you ever heard the legend about the only person to have escaped a North Korean holding facility?"
Could she have been talking about herself? But how? It's nearly impossible to escape from there, let alone a prison there. And the marks…she was tortured? For what? Weapons, drugs, information? Why would she have been there in the first place?
"I'm mostly for hire."
She was hired to go there and got caught doing it?
He paused in his thoughts and looked over the woman in front of him, not noticing John in the doorway of the kitchen with a smirk.
How does she do this? How does she stump me with the simplest of questions? I should be able to answer right away and yet, she forces me to think about it; to actually work it out like some complex mathematical equation. Even before…
"Anyone would be frightened-"
"Except you, right Sherlock?"
She knew what I was going to say before I even had a chance to utter a syllable. I was silenced by a mere interruption. If it was John I would've said that it was true; that I wouldn't have been frightened. Yet, I sat there and thought about it. I had to mentally put myself in her position. What if John, Mrs. Hudson, or Lestrade had died and then I was attacked while I was vulnerable? What if I was caught off guard by that woman and drugged? Would I have been able to say I had not even an ounce of fear?
Not only that, but her intelligence! A mind so similar to mine; able to connect the dots and see things that others don't even notice, but she can see the feelings as well. The personal connections that I always seem to overlook. She claims to be a sociopath and yet she knows the human feelings as well as any other person without the actual physical and social connection.
She didn't even bat an eye when I analyzed her and even had the courage to analyze me in return! She almost knows how I function and was even able to distract me from personal questions in the last case with only a couple of words. How could such a woman even exist?
He noticed something fall down the side of her face and he stood up.
"Am I mad, Sherlock?"
He put his coat over her and brushed the tear from her cheek, leaning in close to her ear and whispered,
"You're not mad, Dani."
You're brilliant. He thought, then walked out of the room to his own bedroom while John snuck out the front door without a sound.
"She lives in Cornwall. Two men broke in wearing masks forced her to drive to the car park and decked her out in enough explosives to take down a house. Told her to phone you. Check the read out from this pager."
I watched as John picked up the black pager Lestrade had set on the desk and Sherlock continued to wander the room.
"If she deviated from one word, the sniper would set her off."
"Or if you hadn't solved the case."
"Oh, elegant."
"You really think so? I was thinking…extravagant."
"Are you serious, Dani?"
I nodded. "Yeah. Don't you think so too?"
He rolled his eyes at me and Lestrade gave a slightly disgusted look as he spoke.
"What was the point? Why would anyone do this?"
"I can't be the only person in the world who gets bored."
"He's right." I said. "He gets bored he shoots walls. I get bored and throw things. Whose to say that our bomber isn't bored and solves that boredom by playing games and blowing up civilians? Wouldn't be the first time."
"Really? And who do you know that likes to blow people up?"
I smirked wickedly at Lestrade. "I can name quite a few people. My father, my brother, just about every teenage boy in the world-"
"What?!"
"Think about it. How many video games are just a bunch of violence and blowing people up? This guy just took it to the next level by playing in real life."
I smiled and leaned back in my chair when the pink phone went off.
"You have one new message."
This time, four pips went off; which John pointed out. Sherlock mentioned how we had passed the first test and this was the next one before he showed us the picture of a blue car that was attached to the message.
"I'll see if it's been reported."
Lestrade began phoning to find out whether or not the car's been reported when the door suddenly opened and a dark skinned woman stood in the doorway carrying a phone.
"Freak. It's for you."
I didn't approve of the word 'freak' that she used to address Sherlock, but I suppose that's just what she thought of him as. If anything, they've just somehow managed to get on each others' bad sides. I sighed and watched Sherlock as he took the phone and answered it. I knew I wouldn't be able to hear anything, but watching how he reacts to the call could tell me everything. Then again, this is Sherlock. He might not give anything away.
Luckily, that wasn't entirely the case. Almost immediately after he answered, he turned to the side with wide eyes. Must be another of those civilians strapped to a bomb. He then spun around and looked all over the police station, as though he was looking for the bomber there. Standing up, I grabbed John and headed to the door.
"Dani? W-Wha-"
"Sh. Sherlock's been called by the bomber's new messenger."
John looked a bit surprised, but stayed quiet like I asked as we stood behind Sherlock.
"And you've stolen another voice, I presume."
John folded his arms. "Who are you? What's that noise?"
Noise? That means there's something in the background that's loud enough to be caught by the phone. It could mean this guy's just about anywhere.
"We found it!"
I scowled at Lestrade's loud voice next to me, but followed him anyway; asking Sherlock a quick couple of questions.
"So, how much time do we have?"
"8 hours."
Short and clipped. He's bothered by this. "And the noise?"
"'The sounds of life'."
I scowled at the lack of information as we got into the cab; Sherlock not wanting to be in a cruiser. After a while of driving we ended up at a construction site just off a dock. I followed just a little bit behind Sherlock, eager to hear what Lestrade had discovered so far about the car and it's owner.
"The car was hired yesterday morning by an Ian Monkford. Bank of some kind. City boy, paid in cash. Told his wife he was going away on a business trip and he never arrived."
Sherlock went to the passenger's side while I went to the driver's. On the parking brake and middle console there was blood, but something seemed off about it to me. There's no body but nearly a pint of blood just poured here. My thoughts would have continued but the dark skinned woman from before began talking rather loudly to John.
"You're still hanging around him?"
"Yeah well."
"Opposites attract I suppose?"
"We're not-"
"You should get yourself a hobby. Stamps maybe. Model trains. Safer."
Sherlock began peeking in the glove compartment while I checked under the seat.
"Before you ask, yes it's Monkford's blood. DNA checks out."
We both stood back up and I gave a thoughtful frown.
"No body?"
"Not yet."
I frowned even more as Sherlock asked for a blood sample to be sent to the lab. Lestrade just turned and stared at the woman who rolled her eyes and started walking. I wasn't far behind and she turned around and held out her hand.
"Looks like the freak's caught another one. Sergeant Sally Donovan." I stared down at her hand but didn't shake it so she put it down with a slight scowl. "I already told John this, but you should stay away from Sherlock Holmes."
I scowled. "Do you have anything smarter to say?" She opened her mouth in shock while I continued. "Because if you don't I'll be going. I don't associate with people who sleep with married men. It's disgusting. Especially when they get off on insulting those who are more than they'll ever be. Now if you'll excuse me."
I walked off and met up with John as I let out a soft sigh, pulling my hand through my short hair. "Women."
John gave me a look while Sherlock smirked. "But aren't you one?"
I nodded. "Yes, but it's when I meet people like that that make me question how I'm of the same species. Now what'd I miss?"
Sherlock just walked off with a smile and John explained to me what had happened between him and the wife. He was a good actor, but even know I could see he had something that John hadn't told me. This man just likes to make me squirm.
"John, how was she speaking?"
"Huh? Well, she was crying but started getting angry when Sherlock kept saying the wrong things. I personally don't see how what he did help-"
"That's not what I meant. Was she speaking in passed tense?"
"What? I, uh…Actually I don't know."
"Yes, she was. A bit premature seeing how they've only just found his car."
Sherlock now had a scowl on his face and I smiled, knowing I had found out what he was hiding.
"You think she murdered her husband?"
"Nope. A murderer wouldn't have screwed up like that, John."
"I see…No, I don't. What am I seeing?"
I heard Donovan yell something about fishing to John as we walked up a slope to call another cab. I sighed and was about to tell him, but Sherlock shoved a hand across my mouth.
"No." He removed it. "Don't tell him yet. It'll ruin the surprise."
"Right. Wouldn't want that to happen."
"Wouldn't want what to happen?" I began walking away, leaving John standing there like a fool. "Dani? What wouldn't you want to happen?!"
I turned back, just for a little fun. "I wouldn't want you to actually start using your brain! Wouldn't want myself to get replaced by Sherlock's one and only blogger after all!"
We were soon in the office of the head of Janus Cars and he seemed really calm about the three of us bugging him. Now where have I heard the name Janus Cars before?
"Can't see how I can help you gentlemen."
"Mr. Monkford hired a car from you…yesterday?"
"Yeah. A lovely motor. Mazda RX8. Wouldn't mind one of them myself."
Sherlock began walking behind the man's desk and pointed to one of the photographs on the wall to distract the man. Easily getting a peek at the man's tan line.
"Is that one?"
"No, they're all Jags. Yeah, I can see you're not a car man, eh?"
"Can't you afford a Mazda? I don't see any reason why not."
I could see all the possible reasons in my mind as to why he wouldn't get one. Wife won't let him. Car business actually in the slumps, which I doubt. Saving up the money for something else. Endless possibilities, but what is his?
"Yeah, that's a fair point, but you know how it is. It's like working in a sweets shop. Once you start picking up the licorice, all sorts, when does it stop."
Sherlock and I watched as the man scratched his left shoulder, but I couldn't get a closer look without being in Sherlock's way.
"You didn't know Mr. Monkford?"
"No, he was just a client. Came in here and hired one of my cars. Don't know what happened to him. Poor sod."
"Nice holiday, Mr. Ewart? You've been away, haven't you?"
"Oh, the-No, it's the sunbeds, I'm afraid. Too busy to get away. My wife would love it though. A bit of sun."
I immediately saw where Sherlock was going with this and stood up from my chair and pulled out a bill.
"You wouldn't happen to have change, would you? I saw a cigarette machine on the way in and I don't have any change."
The man pulled out his wallet and began checking through it as I spotted Colombian pesos.
"No, sorry."
Sherlock pulled me away and herded me towards the door. "Oh well. Thank you very much for your time, Mr. Ewart. You've been very helpful. Come on, John."
John followed us out into the garage and he pulled out his wallet.
"I've got change, if you still want to-"
"Nah, I'm okay. I have two nicotine patches on now and I'm doing good to get away from it after my little…relapse."
"Really? Then what was that about?"
"Just needed a peek in his wallet."
"Why?"
"Mr. Ewart's a liar."
Sherlock popped in as we left and dropped him off at Bart's. I would've stayed with him, but he told me to get back to my flat and John had a date so he wasn't staying either. After reaching my flat, I put the key in the lock and paused at the door. I let out the breath I was holding and opened the door. It wasn't as bad as I thought and I felt ridiculous for acting like such an idiot yesterday.
Speaking of yesterday, there was that thing with Sherlock. It was an odd morning to say the least, when I woke up in Sherlock's flat with his coat over me. I barely even remembered the conversation we had, but I swore I heard Sherlock tell me something that night. Something important. Not only that, but he actually chuckled when I woke up and gave him a strange look as he sat in a chair across from me, plucking at his violin. He said something about my hair and the look on my face reminding him of a Troll doll. I, of course, retaliated by stealing his violin and playing a few screeching notes of my own before leaving the flat to get dressed with some clothes he stole-I mean, borrowed from my flat.
I tripped over something and fell to the floor, deciding to just lay there for a moment to collect my thoughts on some other topic. Like what? This case? A car abandoned near a dock, almost wanting to be found. A pint of blood in it poured on the center console so most likely a set up. The wife easily spoke in past tense so she knew it was a set up and most likely helped. Then there's Ewart. He lied about not traveling because no one would wear a shirt on a tanning bed and he had Colombian pesos in his wallet and kept scratching his shoulder, so a booster shot; which is required to get into the country. Plus, the name of the place. I've heard it before. Standing up, I went over to my computer and asked an acquaintance about the name.
"Janus Cars. I know I've heard of it before."
Bling!
I scrolled the e-mail and smirked, slamming my fists against the desk and pulling out my phone to call up Sherlock. Unfortunately, I got a busy signal so I waited a few minutes before calling again and got through.
"Sherlock! Janus Cars. I've heard of it before and a friend of mine just confirmed it. They give a special service. If you have any problems, like money or a bad marriage, they'll help you disappear. They fake deaths and send you off to a foreign country where no one will find you. Ian probably had money troubles and him and his wife went to Janus Cars to set this up."
"Brilliant, Dani! The blood samples I have here also support that. The blood was frozen. Ian Monkford gave a pint of his blood and they just spread it on the seat. Hurry down to the forensic car park. I'll meet you there with John."
"Ah, I can't-" I heard the dial tone on the other end of my phone and scoffed. "God, he's as bad as my mother. Speaking of, she's gonna kill me for not calling her."
I quickly dressed in dark clothes, grabbing my phone which had the map I needed to locate Asad. I was finally going to get rid of him and I was easily able to get into the safe (I personally installed a while back) in order to get out the equipment I needed. Let's see…knife for personal use, pistol; also for personal use…although I probably won't need either…and my own sniper rifle; hidden away in a backpack. I didn't bother smiling to myself after all, I was going out to kill a man. The moment I started enjoying it was the moment I become a psychotic criminal.
"God knows we have enough of those already."
I rolled my eyes and packed everything up before calling a taxi. It was when I decided to wait until I got in the taxi and was on my way, before I picked up my cell and dialed the dreaded number to my mother's phone. It hardly finished the first ring before she was practically screaming in my ear.
"Dani! Why haven't you called?! I've been so worried about you and you left me here thinking you'd died or something!"
"Mum, it's only been a few days. Surely you can give me some time alone without having to call you every hour."
"I see you've gotten rid of most of your accent. Are you in England now?"
I rolled my eyes at her subject change as I walked up a set of stairs to the roof of an apartment complex across the way from my target's home. "Yes mum"
"Oh, found any good looking guys yet?"
"No! Will you stop bugging me about that? I already told you I'm not looking for a relationship right now! I'm busy!"
"Busy? With what? What could you possibly be too busy with to find yourself a man?"
It was starting to get dark and I felt better knowing that I planned ahead to be on a building where the sun was setting behind me; blocking me from my target's view should he happen to try and spot me. Luckily for me though, Asad had came home just in time and didn't even look nervous.
"With what? Work mother. Now I've gotta go so-"
"Call me in an hour!"
I pulled the phone away from my ear as the dial tone echoed from the speaker, and stared at it in slight shock. She hung up on me again! I feel a bit guilty for speaking with her when I'm about to kill someone but…Argh, I don't have time for this. Frowning distinctly, I made sure my scope was dialed in and took aim. Just as I steadied my breathing pattern and went to pull the trigger, a shadow caught my eye and I rolled to the side just as another Iranian man swung a large saber down on the spot I was previously in. Stupid Mycroft! You said he was alone!
I had no time to dwell on that thought before the man was swinging at me again. Up on my feet now, I went for my handgun but was forced to use it to block the saber instead of shooting it. The weight was too much for my burned arms and I dropped the gun, grabbing my knife instead and managing to swiftly close the distance between us for a good stab in the abdomen.
The man groaned and stumbled back, before acting as though nothing happened and attacking me again. Gah, I need to end this fast before Asad dashes off. My handgun was maybe a few feet away from me and I only needed one shot to get it, so I took a chance. The roof was slippery after a drizzle this morning and I ran towards the man just as he raised the sword, only to duck and slide underneath his legs. The sword nicked my cheek, but I ignored it and picked up my gun. The man saw what I had done and desperately ran towards me to kill me first, but all he did was give me a better shot.
Bang!
The man collapsed on me, getting blood on my black sweater from his wound. The blood I could care less about since black covered it up rather well, but now was my only chance to get Asad should he have another man alerting him if this one lost. Running over to my scope I was glad it was still perfectly on target and, just as Asad had picked up a cell phone and turned to face me outside of his window, I took the shot and finished the job.
I packed up my things, slightly more depressed about having to kill two men today instead of the one, but easily caught a cab back to Baker Street where I quickly headed into my flat before anyone could see the dark stain on my sweater.
After my sniper and other weapons were stashed away, I frowned when I realized that I had left behind my knife. Damn, that was my favorite hunting knife too. I took out my phone and began texting Mycroft in order for him to take care of the two men and to possibly bring my knife back. I was nearly finished when a loud pounding came from my door. Rolling my eyes, I wandered over; already knowing who it was by how consistently he knocked and the slight anger behind each one growing as I took my time reaching the door. I opened the door and didn't plan on looking up from my phone until the message was sent.
"Yes?"
"Why weren't you at the car park?"
"I tried to tell you I couldn't come, but you hung up before I could explain. Surely, you deduced it yourself by now so what point would there be in me explaining it?"
I glanced up and stuffed my phone in my pocket, as Sherlock finished his once over of me and wrinkled his nose in disgust. The action kind of bothered me for some reason, but I blew it off to my emotions still being raw from my earlier endeavors.
"Um, it would be nice if I knew what was going on, though."
John had apparently came along with Sherlock, but I was exhausted and left the explaining to Sherlock by closing the door in their faces.
