Yes, I know. This took entirely too long. I've been having panic attack about senior finals and related matters. Can't wait till high school is over with. Anywho, we're on the homestretch here. A thousand thanks to everyone who is still reading after nearly a year of posting.

Chapter Fourteen
Turnabout

"I hope this plan of yours works Aurora."

"So do I. Never thought the Thief would be crawling with bobbies." I muttered just loud enough for him to hear me. Harris grinned and sipped his tea out of a Guinness glass. It struck me that both Harris and Holmes had adopted remarkably similar attitudes towards me and my criminal past; they ignored it. Quite strange given their sworn duties to Queen and Country.

Harris was the only one present who had an inkling about my former career. The other dozen officers seemed to think that The Clever Thief's proprietress was simply a citizen with a felonious brother, which certainly made things easier for all concerned.

Holmes had been cornered by one of the younger officers and somehow they had gotten on the topic of discerning ante-mortem injuries from postmortem injuries. Judging by the expressions on the other officers, this was not an unusual topic of conversation for their friend.

The aforementioned plan was simple enough. A sign out front declared the pub closed for a private party (which was composed of plain clothed officers). Skyler was to arrive for his money and receive a pair of silver bracelets instead.

"Here he comes." The officer at the door announced. He was taller than Holmes, considerably bulkier and was wearing a tight fitting black t-shirt to prove that fact. A hum of conversation rose as the officers (and Holmes) fell into their role as a group of white-collar workers at a cocktail party

The bell above the door rang and Skyler strolled in, looking every bit as cocky as the last time he had been here. He only got a few steps before the bouncer stopped him. I couldn't actually hear what was being said, but from the waving of arms I assumed that Skyler was trying to talk his way in. The bouncer turned to me for confirmation. I nodded and the bouncer graciously allowed Skyler to pass.

"Hey sis!" He grinned. I folded my arms across my chest and went for the Disapproving Sister look. Skyler was undeterred. "Some party you got going here."

"It doesn't start for another half hour. Plenty of time to get yourself to Heathrow." I added with a note of unsubtle menace in my voice. This town ain't big enough for the two of us.

"What's the hurry? Cops are watching all the international flights. I might take a train to gay Paris. Plenty of nice museums in France." I realized he was trying to enlist my aid in knocking over a few museums. Lord, he must think everyone is as stupid as him.

"You don't speak French." I pointed out.

"I could learn."

"A pity you won't have a chance." This came from Harris, who was sitting at the bar, badge in hand.

Three things happened very quickly.

First, Skyler realized that he was surrounded by a half-dozen drawn weapons. Though the regular patrol cops didn't carry a gun, other divisions could and did, especially when tracking escaped convicts. Second, I backed quickly out of the line of fire. Third, one of the stools that an officer had kicked out of his away capitulated to the forces of gravity and crashed to the floor, creating a distraction for just the fraction of a second Skyler needed.

He grabbed for the nearest weapon and wrapped one hand around the barrel, and using the other to push the officer into his comrades. A single shot went off, unbearably loud at such close quarters. The bullet went wide over Skyler's shoulder directly in to large mirror behind the bar, instantly shattering it into a thousand fragments.

This all took place in the space of perhaps two seconds, leaving us all stunned and deafened. Skyler's momentum carried him forward. Both the front and the back exit were blocked by burly police officers, so Skyler instinctively took the path of least resistance. Up the stairs.

Harris, to his credit, was only three steps behind him. The rest of the officers pounded up the stairs behind their fearless leader.

I rose warily from behind the bar. Holmes vaulted the bar smoothly and helped me to my feet.

"Are you injured?" He asked. I surveyed the wreckage of my bar, slightly shell-shocked by this turn of events. My sneakers crunched on the glass fragments and I reflected that this was the second pane of glass shattered by a bullet aimed in my general direction this week. Then sensation only lasted a moment.

"Come on," I said to Holmes, snatching the bat from under the bar. My brother and I might not get along, but we definitely thought on the same wavelength. There were only three ways out of the building, the front door, the kitchen door, and the fire escape.

Holmes and I went out the kitchen. I became aware of three things almost instantaneously. First was the presence of Harris on my fire escape, cursing like a Navy man. The second was Skyler, disappearing down the far end of the alley. Third was Holmes, off like a shot after Skyler.

Damn, damn, and damn. Is it too much to ask for things to go according to plan just once?

London is an ancient city, continuously occupied since the Romans built a foreign outpost on the banks of the Thames in the first century anno Domini. Over two millennia the city has been burned, bombed and rebuilt dozens of times, often with little over no regard for the previous design of the city. As a result London is a rabbit's warren of twisting alleyways, forgotten roadways and walled off courtyards that would drive the most dedicated mapmakers round the twist. When I first bought the Thief, I made a point of exploring the alleyways in the neighborhood, sketching my own maps with a compass and some graph paper, partially out of curiosity, partially out of professional caution. As Skyler had just demonstrated, it is always wise to have an escape route.

There is a point to this aside.

I caught up with Holmes at a T-intersection. Thus far we had been able to track Skyler by sight, catching a glimpse of him before he rounded a corner, but this time he had been too quick. Holmes was examining the ground, but there was no convenient puddle or muddy footprint on the cobblestones.

"Split up," he said, "I'll take the right." And so he did, without waiting for acknowledgement.

"It's a double dead end." I said to the brick walls, trying to catch my breath. Mental note: Start going to the gym.

"Then I guess the only way out is through you." Skyler said, emerging from the left-hand turning. "Step aside Sis."

"I thought I told you not to call me that." I snapped. "Besides, you won't get far. The police are right behind me." This was only half-bluff. No doubt Harris was somewhere behind me, the question was whether or not he was on the right trail. Either Skyler saw the bluff or he didn't care.

"You betrayed me." He said, but there was a question implied.

"You started it." I replied, feeling childish.

"If this is about the apartment job…"

"It isn't just about the bloody apartment job!" I yelled and smashed a trash can with the bat. It happened to be one of those older metal deals and made quite a racket. I hoped the noise would attract a stray cop, but no such luck.

"The first time you were here you broke my lock, lost me my security deposit, scared the hell out of my roommate and tried to betray me to the cops. Now you rope me into your stupid schemes, trash my bar and just generally ruin my week. You don't understand." I sighed. Of course he didn't understand, I didn't bloody understand.

"It's about responsibility. You are my brother, so you're my responsibility." I said slowly, trying to articulate ephemeral thoughts. "It's about responsibility and family, because Ma would cry and Da would throw a fit. Responsibility and family and, Lord help me, honor."

"No honor among thieves." Skyler growled.

"Maybe not. But I'm not a thief any more."

"Then who are you?"

A phrase from "The Sign of the Four" unexpectedly ran through my head. "I am an unofficial consultant." I said with a grin. If anything this confused Skyler even more. So he dealt with this confusion the same way he dealt with every problem: direct application of force. He grabbed for the bat. The sudden movement startled me but I held on. We struggled over the bat for a few moments.

I once overheard a man telling his drinking buddies he would never fight a girl; not because of some outdated notion of chivalry, but because girls fought dirty. I kicked Skyler in the shin; it startled him and he dropped the bat, which in turn startled me and I fell flat on me arse. Skyler was on his feet first. He ran down the alley and had almost gained the streets when an empty trash can flew out of nowhere. He tumbled over, coming to rest at the feet of several officers, guns drawn. Harris glared down at him.

"Now then," Harris said, as if there had only been a brief interruption, "Francis Skyler Harland, you are under arrest." Questions, comments, critisicms, complaints? Make your voice heard.

.•´¨•»¦«•Kerowyn•»¦«•´¨•.