XXIX

The Eve

Rathbone pulled the heavy wooden door open. The creaked loudly on its hinges and he stepped inside. His steps echoed off the walls of the warehouse. The crates had already been loaded with all the boxes, crates and sheeted 'instruments'. Nervousness welled inside as he took note of the number of boxers readying the canvas to decoratively conceal the barge in yellow and blue stripes.

Wu Chow emerged from below deck of the Resolve, a small fishing ship he had purchased for the very mission at hand. He impatiently waved Rathbone to the ship. Crossing the ramp, Rathbone boarded the ship.

"You have ten minutes." He snapped and marched to see to connecting the barges to the ship.

Rathbone quickly made his way below deck, finding Lin tied against a beam. Her head sunk low with her long black strands concealing her face from his view. A lump in his throat, he stepped before her, lowering to crouch in front of her. She did not move.

"Lin." Spoken barely above a whisper.

Lin's lashes twitched. Slowly they fluttered open. She looked up, her hair parting enough for her eyes to meet his. His fingers slid to tuck her strands behind her ears before moving farther back to untie the sash from around her mouth.

"Lin. It's tomorrow." He said, letting the sash rest around her shoulders.

She stared at him, beginning to tremble.

His eyes averted, lowering with his guilt and shame. His gaze fell upon her ankles, and he remembered the hoist. "Are you very injured?"

Lin opened her mouth to reply, but no sound came. She cleared her throat twice and finally spoke, "No." She watched him intently, her lips trembling before she could form the words, "…Where is Wang?"

"I…" He almost told her the truth. Instead he answered quietly, a hopeful lie. "They're alive and they have Inspector Doyle with them. He'll come for you in time." His voice sounded promising.

Lin gave a shuttered exhale of relief; her head falling forward to finally let her tears fall. Despite her own helplessness, she smiled, eyes closed, if only for a moment.

Rathbone resisted the urge to simply untie her…they could not leave the docks alive. "Lin," Both hands gently cupped her face to have her undivided attention. "Do not wait for me, whatever happens tomorrow. Do you understand?"

Lin searched his face with alarm. "What are you saying?" she whispered.

"I'm saying goodbye as best I can." Brushing her hair aside, he offered her a lying smile, "You're brother's already given you and Roy his blessing. And if you can't convince your brother comes after me I'm not holding back."

She began to angrily cry, struggling to loosen her bonds. "You can't!" She hissed.

"Stop," He grabbed her shoulders to steady her, "You'll draw attention… Lin," He lowered his voice, barely above a whisper again. "Can you really name anyone who does not wish to kill me after tomorrow?"

Lin stared at him, her eyes wide with hurt. "I don't."

Closing his eyes, he put his forehead to hers, "I know." He swallowed, "Whatever happens, know that I'm getting exactly what I've earned. There is no redemption."

"No…" She said, pulling her face from his to look at him. Rathbone sat back as well. "You can-nnnt!" The sash was pressed against her mouth. He tied it behind her head, and sat back to look at her. The apologetic expression dissipated. A hardened, cold face looked to her now.

"I am." He answered and stood. Looking down at Lin, who was suddenly trembling with confusion and fear, he smirked, "The only thing I can see that's certain is it will be a very memorable night."

Lin's eyes darted to the entrance of the cabin. Wu Chow stood there, watching coldly their exchange.

Rathbone turned to regard him, stepping toward the door before he called back to Lin on the way out, "It's a pity England could never accept a Chinese Queen after an event like this." Shrugging lightly, he stepped past Wu Chow.

The sound of the driver acknowledging the approach of Rathbone brought Charlie to rise from the floor of the hansom. He stretched his back with a groan of discomfort as Rathbone crawled inside and seated himself beside the boy. Immediately the hansom jerked and rolled on its way.

Charlie yawned loudly, rubbing his eye before he flicked something at the window. "So, wha's my mission?" He looked to Rathbone, but received no immediate answer. Charlie frowned, watching Rathbone look out the window with his eyes averted to the ground. "'Anyone 'ome?"

He finally stirred, a small sniff at the back of his hand before he turned to Charlie. His eyes were bloodshot, but he offered a thin smile. "You're to hide until the day after tomorrow."

"T'morrow's the Jubilee, ain't it?"

Rathbone nodded, reaching into his inner frock coat pocket. "Yes," H sniffled again.

Charlie blinked at him. "Somethin's gonna 'appen, ain't it?"

Rathbone pulled a long envelope from his pocket and looked to Charlie. He said nothing.

But Charlie stared with bewilderment. "You're cryin'."

"Shut up and listen," He snapped, handing him the envelope. "Don't break the seal on that envelope. Whatever happens tomorrow, I want you to deliver that to either Inspector Doyle, Lord Gilroy on Fremont Street or, if possible, the Queen herself."

Charlie slowly took the envelope, overlooking the outside. It was blank, aside from the Rathbone seal. He faintly nodded and tucked it into the breast of his green vest, "Whoy I gotta hide?"

"Because my home will probably be raided afterwards for one purpose or another and everything in that envelope is going to set it right."

"You do somethin' bad?"

Rathbone looked to him with a weak laugh. "And then some."

Charlie lifted a brow. The only thing he could comprehend that was worse than bad was something unforgivable, something deserving penalty of death. "Did you kill someone?"

"Charlie."

"Oh come on. Who would I tell?"

Rathbone frowned, "I wouldn't want to find out. Now come on, I'm dropping you off at Baker Street, and you had better keep yourself hidden. Britain," He said, poking at his chest where the envelope rustled, "depends vastly on that, which makes you the most important man."

Charlie scoffed and snorted, "You mean kid."

"No," He shook his head, "I mean man. Yes, you're young, but I cannot trust any adult with this task. Charlie, this is a man's job. I'm trusting you, don't fail me."

He beamed, "Coo'." He sat back, hands clasping behind his head with pride.