Bit of a longer chapter today with my attempts at writing some action!

Hope you enjoy! Reviews much loved :)

Chapter 14

Betrayal

The cold air bit into Irene's skin as soon as she opened the door, she couldn't help shivering as her dark eyes stared out into the darker night.

"Are you sure you won't take a TAXI?" Sherlock's slightly concerned voice called behind her.

"No thank you Sherlock, I prefer it when I drive the vehicle I'm sitting in, and I could do with some exercise," Irene said, turning to Sherlock who was leaning against the wall of the hallway, watching Irene carefully. She gave him one of her smiles that made his ears go pink, which always amused her.

"You don't look like you need the exercise," Sherlock said almost stubbornly, looking at her up and down.

"Thank you," Irene replied sweetly, Sherlock gave her a confused look, she rolled her eyes. "When people are told they don't need to do exercise to lose weight they take it as a compliment."

"Oh," Sherlock said, he seemed to be thinking hard. Irene had noticed that he seemed to getting worse with his social abilities, perhaps it was because he was worried about his friend? "People tell me I need to eat more, is that a compliment?"

"It's whatever you think it's meant to mean Sherlock," Irene told him, rolling her eyes again. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"You'll be coming back?" Sherlock sudden sounded hopeful, and something close to a smile glimmered on his face.

"Yes Sherlock, we've been through this before, of course I'm coming back." Irene said, she would have found it a lot easier to stay over night, but it seemed her presence made Sherlock nervous during the day, and she didn't really want to be kept awake by the sounds of frantic pacing or a violin. No, She'd rather spend the night at her hotel, at least that was cleaner and the food was better and she could be alone with her own thoughts. "You will take care of yourself won't you?" Irene checked.

"Of course I can look after myself," Sherlock was now beginning to sound like a stubborn child, this was Irene's signal that now was probably the time to leave.

"See you tomorrow," Irene said again, before stepping outside and closing the door.

The first thing Irene thought as soon as she stepped outside was that she should have brought a coat, but she hadn't expected to be staying at Baker Street for so long. She took one last look at the warm house before getting on her way, and thought she saw a flicker of a curtain on the top floor window. She could just make out the figure of Sherlock standing by the window, and guessed that he was going to stand there and watch her leave. With this chill, she wouldn't leave him waiting long.

Darkness had fallen quickly that night. Irene seemed to be the only one walking the streets of London, which was unusual. She had always been told that London was the City that never slept, and on the occasions she had visited she agreed, but tonight she felt the only person who was still awake. The sound of her heels clicking against the pavement was the only thing Irene's sensitive ears could hear, and her sharp eyes gazed at the houses she passed, each one of them dark and drained of life.

As Irene walked on, her mind wondered back to the reason why she was walking along a dark road in the dead of night. She had expected to have met Sherlock Holmes, wait for him to get her money back and then disappear within two days, like she usually did. But it had been five days since Sherlock had found Garrison's body in the alleyway, and she was still there, she was even helping him find a friend that she had only met for a few minutes. Irene knew she would never get her money back now, so why was Sherlock still in her life? He wasn't like any other man that Irene had met, and she liked that, even though he did have a very unusual character. She felt comfortable being around him, despite the fact that Sherlock had connections with the police. Irene usually enjoyed running away whenever she found herself in too much trouble, but for some reason she didn't want to run from this, she was quite content in staying and seeing everything through to the end, whatever the end may be.

But what about after the end? Would she stay then? Would she keep contact? What if—

Irene halted suddenly in mid-thought, as she suddenly realised she was being followed.

It wasn't obvious at first, but Irene wasn't stupid, and she was quite used to being followed, or following people. She could hear the sound of life tracing her footsteps, she could feel her senses tingling with urgency and warning. The figure was about the same height as her, but a slightly bigger build – a man. Irene didn't know who it was, all she was certain of was that it wasn't Sherlock, this dark figure wasn't tall enough, and if Sherlock was following her, he would probably be better than this man, whose footfalls were louder than Irene's in the silent night. Irene stopped in the reflection of a shop window to watch the figure step behind a building to try and avoid her prying eyes. The man was wearing a large black coat with the hood up to cover his face; Irene had a feeling that he wasn't the only one.

Pretending that she hadn't seen or sensed anything, Irene continued walking forward at a slightly quicker pace. Her face was calm and steady, but she could feel her heart rate increasing as she diverted from her route to the hotel. She would sleep peacefully once she had shaken this man off her trail.

Turning a sharp left corner, Irene began to walk steadily down narrower streets, wondering if she should contact Sherlock and somehow tell him that she was being followed without the follower realising that she had noticed. But what would Sherlock do? It was far too dark for her to work out what street she had suddenly turned into and was rapidly walking out of, and Irene could look after herself perfectly well, she didn't need a man to depend on.

There was the sound of someone bumping into a bin on the right side of Irene, her eyes snapped over to the noise, but she could barely see anything apart from another silhouette figure hastily backing into an alleyway. She was right, there wasn't just the one person following her, she tried to restrain herself from laughing, these men were the worst and the noisiest stalkers she had ever encountered! This thought helped keep her mind calm as she continued to walk faster through the dark, swiftly turning round corners and down darker streets, her pursuers almost having to run to catch up with her.

More people were appearing now, Irene could bearly see them, but it was if she could sense their figures coming through the dark, their hurried footsteps coming from all sides towards her. She knew there was one coming towards her before she even saw the man's silhouette. She briskly turned away before the figure got too close, entering a small alleyway between two houses. Irene only stopped when she saw the alleyway came to a dead end and a large wall blocked her escape. The wall was too high for Irene to climb, but just as she thought that a huge silhouette of a man climbed over the wall and jumped down beside her.

She was trapped.

Irene's pursuers were making their steady way down the alleyway towards her. She couldn't help her eyes widening and her jaw dropping with fear for a few moments, but then Irene Adler made herself tall and stern, ready to face her attackers.

Her followers had been planning this all along, they wanted to get her trapped down an alleyway, they wanted her to know she was being followed, so she would change her direction. They knew she would head away from the safety of the hotel so she could be herded so easily into a trap. But this would soon be over; there weren't many who could successfully hunt down and out-smart Irene Adler.

The man who had climbed over the wall was the first to come close enough for Irene Adler to react. He held a torch in his hand and shone it over her face, she caught a glimpse of a face hidden under a black hood, and a gold tooth as the man smiled menacingly at her. But he hardly had chance to do anything else, instead his eyes widened with shock as Irene suddenly lashed out and kicked him in the chest. He stumbled backwards, dropping the torch from his hand, and slumping to the ground.

The footsteps behind Irene Adler stopped suddenly, as the other four men in the alleyway saw what she had done through the dim of the torchlight and were beginning to doubt if this was going to be easy as they expected. With another swift movement, Irene stamped on the fallen man's torch.

Everything fell into darkness. The predators were about to become the prey. They couldn't see Irene whip out a knife that she always had on a strap on her thigh. She couldn't see the men any more, but she remembered where they were standing, and the silence that followed the darkness told her that they hadn't moved. She took aim and threw the knife.

From the choking gasp that followed, and something slumping to the ground, Irene knew that the knife had landed right on target; in the neck of one of the men. There was a shout from the two that remained standing as they rushed towards her, not sure what to do any more, or if she unarmed. Irene was unarmed, but she didn't need weapons. One of the men advancing swiftly towards her pulled out his own torch as he ran, and just managed to catch sight of a healed foot landing squarely on his nose as his light flicked on. There was a sickening crunch and a thud as the man's nose shattered and he fell, his head colliding with the hard ground.

Irene's senses were alive, there was only a thin trail of light from the torch now lying on the ground, but she felt like she didn't need the light, she knew each step the man in front of her was going to take, what move he might try to make. She heard a shuffle as the man behind her began to sit up again, recovering from his blow to the chest. She hardly needed to look behind as she kicked her foot and let her heel collide with the man's skull. He stopped moving. Irene wasn't sure if he was dead or alive, and for now it didn't matter, she just managed to catch sight of two large hands reaching towards her throat from the one remaining attacker before she punched him hard in the throat and then the chest. He reeled back, choking and gasping for breath. Irene let herself smile for a few moments; this was easier than she had expected!

There was a click as someone behind her released the safety catch on a gun.

"Don't move," a gruff voice ordered.

Irene froze, her hands half clenched into fists as she prepared herself to attack again, but she knew that she couldn't defeat a bullet. She stood as still and as calmly as possible as she felt the barrel of the gun press against her head. She felt so foolish, why didn't she question the fact that only four of the five men had tried to attack her, while one just stood in the background, watching through the darkness. It had been too easy, that was the problem, Irene had been expecting a weapon to come out at some point, but for the few moments in which she had been winning, it had completely slipped her mind.

There were stumbles and groans around Irene as a few of the men managed to pull themselves up off the floor, both had blood trickling somewhere from their faces because of her fine fighting skills, which she was secretly pleased about. But her face soon fell as she heard other hurried footsteps come down the alleyway, two other men joined the three that were still standing. She didn't dare try to fight them off this time. The five men who were circling around her, and then stood silently.

The man with the gun was the first to speak, he moved round a little so he and Irene were face to face. She could just about see his silhouette from the torch on the ground, but that was it.

"You are friends with Sherlock Holmes." He said, it wasn't a question.

"What?" Out of all the questions a man could ask when their victim was held at gunpoint, this wasn't one Irene had expected.

"You are friends with Sherlock Holmes." The man repeated.

"Yes," Irene said, straightening her back to make herself seem taller, there was no point lying to the man, he already knew. She held firm eye contact with him to show that she was not scared. She decided to play the same game as him, or see if she could. "You know Garrison Smith," she said suddenly.

"What?" The silhouette in front of her hesitated.

"You work at a factory? Someone was causing trouble there." Irene explained to the man, drawing in the knowledge she had learned over the past few days, and hoping that would save her, or at least buy her time.

"We do not work in the factory," the man told her, sounding like she had just insulted him.

"But you know the factory," Irene said. The man had used the word 'we', she assumed he meant the other men standing around her, and the factory was definitely involved, even though she didn't know how. She didn't even know what factory she was talking about, but the men did, and that at least was something.

"We work for the man at the factory, if someone causes trouble, he tells us to kill them." The man said.

"With a spider bite?" Irene replied.

"Would you like to find out what that's like?" The man asked. "Or would you like to stop asking me stupid questions?"

"What do you want with me?" Irene was quite sure that wasn't a stupid question, and she was pretty sure the man had no spider with him, but he did have a gun.

"Your name is Irene Adler?" The man checked before continuing.

"Yes."

"We have a little job for you."

"What's my payment?" Irene asked, her eyes narrowing a little. She was given 'little jobs' quite a lot, but never in these sort of circumstances.

"Your payment is that we don't kill you." The man told her, there was a slight tone of amusement in his voice.

"What if I don't accept the payment?" Irene demanded, her eyes narrowing.

"Then we kill you." The man told her bluntly.

"What's the job?" Irene said as casually as she could. She thought she heard one of the men standing behind her snigger, the hairs of the back of her neck bristled with anger, but there was nothing she could do.

The man shoved something into Irene's hands with his free one. Irene took it and felt it carefully, she didn't look down from the man's eyes, but it was quite easy to work out what he had just handed her.

"This is a gun," she said, holding it up.

"Well done." More sniggers from behind.

"What's the job?" Irene repeated, trying to control her anger.

"You know Sherlock Holmes."

"Yes."

"Then your job is to kill him."

Irene stared in horror at what the man had just said. She wanted to ask him to repeat it, but she had heard him clearly enough, there was no possibility that she had misheard him.

"I cannot kill a friend." Irene said, praying that the men didn't hear the slight tremor in her voice as she spoke.

"You just killed one of mine," the man told her. Irene risked a quick glance to the body lying on the ground, the knife still sticking out of his neck. "And I thought people like you don't have friends."

"What if I refuse the job?" Irene demanded, although she already knew the answer.

"Then you will be the one who dies." The man replied, "I'm sure it would be a lot better if you were the one who killed Holmes instead of anyone else, or else it might not be as quick. You have one bullet, that's all you need. Don't even try to use it on one of us, because we'll simply kill you."

Irene could feel her anger inside her being replaced with resignation, it wasn't something she was used to. "You make it sound like I've already made my decision." She sighed.

"I don't think you really have a decision to make," the man pointed out. "But don't shoot him yet, wait until the right moment."

"What's the right moment?" She asked.

"You will take the job?"

There was a brief pause as Irene calculated the chances of her coming out of this alive, and when she realised they were practically nil, she wondered if she could live with herself for killing a friend.

But the man with the gun did not want to wait around for an answer. "Will you take the job?" He repeated.

"Like you said, it seems I have no choice." Irene said bitterly.

"The right moment will be obvious to you when the time comes." The man replied.

And with that, all five surviving men, with their job done, slipped out of the alleyway and disappeared into the night. They vanished as suddenly as they had appeared, but this time, they were silent.

Irene Adler stood frozen, alone in the alleyway with a dead body beside her and a gun in her hands.