Felicity parked her stolen car a block away from the Wellembry estate and walked the rest of the way there, nervous and on edge. Her mind was anxious, and couldn't help but torture her with images of Sherlock, John or Mycroft getting hurt. Underlying her fear was the horribly vivid memory of the accident, the truck, and the screaming that threatened to deafen her even when she was awake.
Upon arriving and hiding in the bushes at the Wellembry's home, she discovered that a fancy car was waiting outside, and that the driver was lifting a suitcase into the trunk. Was Christina leaving already? That didn't make sense- she'd only just gotten there. Regardless, someone was leaving, and the car was completely unattended. It was easy to sneak up on the driver and hit the same pressure point on the back of his neck that Moran had used on her not too long ago. It took effort (pushing her whole body weight down onto one spot was no picnic) but she ultimately succeeded. Hiding the man's body was harder, but luckily the Wellembry's had some very ugly hedges around their home. Then, it was surprisingly easy to just get into the car and wait. Tinted windows kept her hidden, and yet she could see out. Gnawing at her lip, she worried about her family and waited and waited and waited. Finally, Christina stormed out of the house. Her mom didn't even come out to say goodbye, which meant that when Christina simply slipped into the back and tapped the divider screen between them. Felicity started the car and drove off.
Felicity drove only a few blocks before pulling over, her fingers trembling slightly as she removed John's pistol from her jeans. She hated Wellembry, hated her more than anyone, but the idea of confronting her still shook her confidence, especially because she'd have to pretend that she intended to hurt her, which Felicity didn't. No matter how much she loathed Christina Wellembry, she would never hurt her. Ever. However, the niggling thought in the back of her mind that warned of Mr. Wellembry not being so kind to her family made her slightly nauseous. "Ugh, why are you stopping?" Christina's voice, harsh and snotty, snapped Felicity out of her worries. Taking a deep breath to strengthen her resolve, Felicity got out of the car, walked to the back door, and opened it, ducking inside.
For a moment, the look on Christina's face was almost comical. The last time they'd seen each other, Christina had been punching her straight in the face. Now, Felicity was sitting in front of her, looking calm and almost cold. It took Christina a full three seconds to get over her shock and look furious instead. "Don't say anything. Hand me your mobile phone. Now." Felicity said sharply, knowing that if Christina had a chance to verbally strike her down she'd never be able to continue. John's gun was in her hand, lying calmly in her lap, but the threat of it was obvious. It took Christina visible effort to swallow her tongue and hand over her mobile. Ignoring the rocketing tension, Felicity went in to her speed dial menu and found her father's number. Heart beginning to pound feverishly in her anxiety, Felicity hit the button.
Back at the Holmes Estate, the tension between Mycroft and Mr. Wellembry was thick enough to choke on. The ringer on his mobile phone seemed so ridiculous compared to the heaviness in the air. Looking a mix of furious and frustrated, Mr. Wellembry snatched up his phone and answered it with a curt, "What?!" After a moment, his eyes widened, and he turned on the speaker phone.
"Sherlock, Mycroft, John? Are you all there?" Felicity's voice came out of the phone in such a cold, brutal tone that all three of her family members started in surprise.
"Yes, we're here; all unharmed." Mycroft was the first to recover, mind spinning as he attempted to figure out Felicity's plan.
"Good. I'm glad you can follow simple directions, Mr. Wellembry, and the fact that you haven't hurt my family inclines me to not hurt yours." Felicity said coolly, knowing without hesitation that Mycroft was telling the truth. She had learned to recognize the change in his voice patterns when he was lying a long time ago. Thinking of her Uncle, and how cold, unconcerned, and powerful he could be gave her strength to carry on with the conversation. If Mycroft could do it, she could.
"Wait, Dad? This is the 'business' Mum was talking about? God, you make me sick," A new voice, sharp and bitter, interrupted before Mr. Wellembry could respond. It had to be his daughter, Christina- she sounded the same age as Felicity. "You know Mum was sending me back, right? Because if you were gone she apparently doesn't have to give a damn about me. I'm surprised she waited as long as she did, but I'm not surprised that you kidnap people's families-,"
"Christina!" Mr. Wellembry interrupted furiously. "Now is not the time!"
"Oh, I think it is the time, considering the girl pointing a gun at me is the one that you asked me to bully while at school. And you know what? The only reason I did it was because it would finally make you love me, treat me like your daughter instead of an object you and Mum can fight over-,"
"Christina-," Mr. Wellembry tried once again to interrupt, but his daughter talked right over him, spreading unease throughout their audience.
"You know what, Felicity? I think you made a bad choice abducting me. My Dad doesn't love me worth a damn, and he certainly won't trade me for your family because I'm not worth that to him." Christina continued bitterly, and silence spread throughout the study and the car. "And I'm sorry for bullying you and hurting you and calling your brother a prick. Call me an attention whore, or a bitch, or whatever you want, but now you get it, now you know my reasons. My family is just as empty as yours was, even though that's not an excuse for how horrible of a person I've been. I'm sorry."
In the Wellembry's car, Felicity sat motionless, staring at Christina. The turn their conversation had taken, from hostage situation to a heartbreaking string of confessions, had destroyed her resolve. At first she hated herself for feeling sympathetic towards the girl that had only bullied her from day one, but she couldn't stay angry at her, not after what she had just heard. It made her angry at her father, not her. The man was a monster, and what he had done, what he had manipulated his own daughter into doing made her feel sick. Christina refused to meet her gaze; instead, she glared at the phone, face surprisingly pale. "Mr. Wellembry, you won't be able to resolve these problems with your daughter unless you release my family. They may even give you some time to get your affairs in order before you're arrested. Let them go, and I'll let her go." Felicity forced herself to continue to speak in her harshest tone possible before hanging up. Silence spread through the car, awkward and cloying.
"Did he ransom your family?" To Felicity's surprise, Christina broke the silence between them first. She had apparently swallowed her feelings, like Felicity was more than used to doing, and now looked fairly calm, if not bitter.
"No. Christina, I-," Felicity started, but Christina cut her off with a sharp flick of her hand.
"Save it, freak. I don't want your pity or whatever speech you've got cooked up. I just want you to get your stupid family back so that this can all be over." She said sharply, sitting back and crossing her arms.
"You want to help me?" Felicity asked, thunderstruck. If someone had told her that she would eventually work towards the same goal with Christina Wellembry without being attacked, Felicity would have had a good laugh. But now? That was her exact situation. Could she really work with the most unlikely ally of all? This girl had kept her up at night, had made Charley's passing so much worse. Christina had made her question everything about herself, had caused her to hate herself. How could she trust her, work with her? It all seemed so bizarre.
"If it helps my Dad get what's coming to him then yeah, I do. Don't make me regret it." Christina confirmed, tone severe. Before Felicity could reply, her phone went off. Fishing it out, she checked the ID (It was Greg) before answering. Deciding to throw Christina a line, Felicity put her phone on speaker.
"Felicity? What on Earth is going on?!" Greg demanded. "Mrs. Hudson just called me from St. Bart's morgue saying something was happening at the Holmes Estate and that you were on your own."
"There is something happening at the Holmes Estate; the Blochados have infiltrated the estate and have Mycroft, Sherlock and John." Felicity said as calmly as possible.
"What?" Greg practically yelled. "Where are you now, if you're not at the estate?"
"I'm perfectly safe; don't worry. I need you to contact the house phone at the estate and talk to Mr. Wellembry. He thinks that I'm holding his daughter hostage, and now that the playing fields are even we can negotiate." Felicity said quickly, glancing up just briefly at Christina. She was listening intently, but showed no outward reaction to Felicity's lie.
"Jesus. Felicity, come to the Yard, alright? You'll be safe there, and you can help predict this guy's next move." Greg replied, sounding almost dazed.
"Greg, I know you're worried about Mycroft. Follow normal police procedure and call the estate to open negotiations. Call me when you've talked with Wellembry, okay?" Felicity said, dodging Greg's wish for her to go in to NSY. The Blochados were still out there and were still looking for her; there would be someone watching Scotland Yard.
"Felicity, no, please come in. Your parents and Mycroft will kill me once this is all over if I left you in danger. It's you they want, and I can't protect you when you're on your own." Greg tried again, already resigned to the fact that Felicity wouldn't listen.
"Sorry, Greg. I have to go now, but call me back once you've started things, alright? Police pressure will help end this. Bye." Felicity hung up before Greg could say anything else. She sat in silence for a moment, gripping her phone and thinking wildly about what she wanted to do next.
"Why does my father want you?" Christina asked, tone curious yet sharp. Her question jerked Felicity out of her thoughts.
"He thinks I know the identity of a double agent that nearly destroyed his terror cell about seven years ago." Felicity said shortly, her mind uncontrollably flashing back to the moment of her mother screaming and the truck horn blaring.
"Oh. Do you get mixed up with secret agents and terror cells often?" Christina asked flatly, and Felicity shot her a look, opening the door and sticking John's gun out of sight.
"Come on. We've got work to do," Felicity said, decision made on what to do next.
At the Holmes Estate, Mr. Wellembry was still staring at his phone, shock and frustration on his features. The fact that the fight he'd just had with his daughter had been done so in front of an audience didn't help his credibility. "I see abusing one young woman wasn't enough for you." Mycroft spoke up acidly. He never thought that he'd sympathize with Christina Wellembry, and yet he inexplicably did. With a father like Richard Wellembry, it was easy to see how she could be such a beast of a girl.
In a flash, Mr. Wellembry had turned an odd shade of red and had strode over to press the muzzle of his pistol into Mycroft's forehead. "You shut up right now or so help me I will blow your brains out." He was stuttering, but only because he was angry to a point of being incoherent. Rage made his hands tremble slightly and his eyes blaze. "Don't you say one more word. Shooting you may lower your value, but at this point I'd be more than happy to lose money. Besides, your niece," he sneered the word, "will be much more valuable."
"Sir, the police and MI5 are on the phone; they want to speak with you." The bodyguard reappeared in the doorway, holding out the house-phone to Mr. Wellembry, who swore under his breath.
"Help me with this," he requested, pulling out several rolls of duct tape. The phone was put on the table, and with the threat of a bullet to the head, John, Mycroft and Sherlock reluctantly allowed the bodyguard to bind their ankles, knees and wrists. In addition, they were placed in opposite corners of the room. "If they try to get out of this room, shoot them." Wellembry ordered the bodyguard as they left, and the door swung shut and locked. As soon as they were gone, the Holmes brothers started talking.
"Annette will have resources looking for Felicity; there is a tracking device in the car she took, and we can safely assume that she is near Ilford at this very moment. Do you still have your knife?" Mycroft asked Sherlock, squirming a bit on the floor as he worked to get out of the corner.
"No; for once I left that behind for our honeymoon and I didn't think to replace it on my person," Sherlock said in a frustrated tone, shimmying his wrists back and forth in an attempt to loosen the glue on his skin. "John, do you have anything? A paperclip?"
"No, but I think there's one on the table. Wait, even if we were to get it, getting loose won't solve anything; they have guns, we don't." John pointed out, using the corner he'd been put in to push against. The convenient leverage was enough to help him get to his feet.
"It's not about getting loose to attack; at least, not right away. I refuse to go further into this situation whilst being incapacitated." Sherlock huffed, doing the same as John to get himself upright. A few undignified hops later, he'd made it to the table and was feeling along the smooth hardwood with his fingertips, unable to crane his neck far enough to actually see what he was doing.
"Your daughter is a force to be reckoned with," Mycroft said thoughtfully from his corner, and then directed Sherlock more to the left to discover a paperclip behind a stack of photographs.
"Isn't she?" Sherlock asked, smiling broadly, despite their situation. With nimble fingers, he got to work undoing the paperclip to find its abrasive end.
As Felicity hit the gas, now electing to drive the beat-up Fiat that belonged to the Wellembry's driver instead of their limo or the most likely tracked car she'd stolen from the Holmes Estate, Felicity handed her phone to Christina. "I need you to call the number in there marked as 'XX'." She requested, ignoring Christina's outright stare at a) the trust she'd just placed in her archenemy and b) the fact that she knew how to drive at their age.
"Any point in asking who this is and why you think they can help?" Christina asked, going through the contact menu and finding 'XX'.
"You won't believe me until we get there, trust me." Felicity said.
Eeep. I'm such an asshole for getting this put up so late; I was just desperate to get this done before the New Year. A lot of you asked for this chapter a lot sooner, and I'm sorry that I couldn't get it done before now. That aside, I hope you really like where this story is going.
Happy New Year!