Anthea arrived into the office as normal on Monday morning at 7am sharp, trying not to feel like she was stepping straight into the Lion's den. Conscious she was almost certainly being watched she carried out her daily routine to the letter all morning, greeting other people in the office, answering questions about her weekend with vague details and half smiles as she always did; refusing to deviate from 'normal' for a second. Luckily one of the skills that had encouraged Mycroft to employ her in the first place was her excellent poker face and ability to keep her emotions hidden from view.
It was a whispered joke around the office that Mr Holmes might have been named the Iceman by Moriarty, but Anthea's composure was so legendary as to earn her the moniker AZ - 'absolute zero'. Not that anyone said that to her face, of course, but Anthea's gossip radar was finely tuned to ensure she heard everything which might be relevant to Mycroft. Sitting at her desk now she allowed her mouth to twitch into a fraction of a smile as she recalled relaying that piece of information to Mr Holmes and the brief moment of shared amusement it had created between them. Others might have been shamed by being the brunt of such gossip but Anthea was proud of it - and she knew Mycroft's respect for her only grew when he heard her described in that way. To the two of them it meant she was doing a good job of being inscrutable.
Of course, a gift for keeping her emotions and thoughts under wraps wasn't the only skill Anthea owned. Another was her excellent ability to manipulate IT systems, which she put to good use as she supposedly worked on a briefing for the Minister for Education. Her role as Mycroft's assistant left her answerable to him alone, and effectively meant she was in charge of the office in his absence. This meant no one disturbed her and no one questioned her task, although given the open-plan office she was still at risk of being seen. With Sherlock's help the previous day they had set up a virtual environment to which Anthea now systematically transferred all the communications and materials which had passed through Mycroft's office servers in the last month - firewalls and security no challenge for her to subvert. The quantity of data was excessive, but a few carefully worded scripts soon allowed her to trim away the excess and analyse the spectrum of what was left.
She didn't dare work on the purloined documents for longer than a few moments in between her other tasks as attracting attention at this stage would be disastrous for them all, so once she had them across and the majority of the junk removed she stopped, carefully replacing all the security measures to hide her tracks, and went to lunch.
As usual on a Monday she went to the coffee shop at the end of the road and bought a chicken salad and a coffee. She felt a slight pang as she realised she'd absently picked up a second salad out of habit for Mycroft. Anthea allowed herself a moment of concern for her boss, hoping he wasn't in as much pain today as he had been yesterday.
Lunch bought, Anthea walked briskly along the Thames until she found a deserted bench some distance from any passers by. Satisfied she was alone she took out her mobile and called Sherlock. Not her blackberry this time - this was a special burner phone. Completely untraceable for 24 hours use.
"Anthea" Sherlock said when he picked up, "You can talk?"
"Yes, briefly, I don't appear to be under surveillance."
She heard some movement in the background and a muttered conversation, then the clear sound of her being put on speakerphone before Mycroft spoke,
"My dear, I trust your morning has been fruitful?"
Anthea smiled at the use of the endearment but kept her tone brisk and business-like. There would be time to appreciate the easing of the boundaries at a later point. "I've processed the files - they are all on the server for you. Initial assessment shows four key companies with whom 'your' communications have increased markedly in the last week. Of course, I've not had the opportunity to review in detail but I have narrowed down the fields for you - it shouldn't take long to verify my estimates." She concluded rapidly.
She heard the tap of a laptop as Sherlock logged on to the server, and a silence as both he and Mycroft skimmed over the contents. Then another voice, John this time, "Thanks Anthea, the two of them are going to be occupied most of the afternoon processing that lot." She detected a grin in his voice and wondered how frustrated they had been that morning waiting for her to contact them. A bored Holmes was a bad thing. Two bored Holmes' - they were lucky the flat was still standing and John hadn't murdered them both.
John continued, although he his voice was more serious now, "And how are you? Is everything okay?"
"Oh I'm fine Doctor Watson." Anthea replied breezily.
"Seriously? After all this you are still calling me Doctor Watson? John, please." He chided, "And I don't believe for a second it is as 'fine' as you are making out." He dropped his voice slightly, and she heard the click as he took her off speakerphone and then walked out of the room with the phone to somewhere more private. "I just want to double check you feel safe," John continued, "Sherlock and Mycroft both forget what it is they are asking of you, because they don't realise you won't say no to them. But I'm not them, and I know what it is like, so tell me - are you okay? And are you safe?"
Anthea felt a rush of fondness for the army doctor who saw what the brothers missed - the human emotions and flaws which could make or break this. She answered honestly, "John, I'm safe. I was very careful and I will continue to be careful. I didn't feel under threat in the office and I'm on my guard. If they took me whilst Mr Holmes is still gone it would look far too suspicious - I'm worth more to everyone in my job provided they don't think I suspect anything is wrong."
John sighed audibly, "Thank you Anthea. And if that changes - if you feel even the slightest bit uneasy - call us and we will come and rescue you."
Anthea had a sudden flash in her mind of the three men turning up outside a castle kitted in armour and on horse-back, gallantly ready to rescue her from the evil dragon. She suppressed a snigger, knowing full well she was probably a better fighter than Mycroft at least and just as likely to have to rescue them as they her.
She composed herself and asked "How is Mr Holmes?" While she knew he was out of earshot.
"Mycroft? He'll live," John replied brightly - his tone reassuring her greatly, "He's still bruised and looking the worse for wear, but to be honest he's markedly better for a couple of night's sleep and some hot food. The rest will heal over time - no permanent damage."
She could hear the background noise change again as he walked back into the living room with the phone.
"Thank you, I appreciate it. I have to go, John, I need to get back to the office."
She heard him call to the others, telling them she was going, and a farewell from both Sherlock and Mycroft in her direction.
"I'll pick you up after work," John told her, and before she could object, continued, "Don't argue with me. We need to know where you are and that you aren't being held somewhere or the whole plan will be at risk. You'll stay here with us until this is over. Safety in numbers and all that."
Anthea sighed, aware of the risks involved in both returning to her own home and staying at Baker Street. She weighed it up, decided John was right, and crisply told him "6pm, Vauxhall Tube station, it will be less noticeable than you waiting outside the building."
John confirmed the arrangements then they hung up, all parties with more than enough to keep them occupied for the rest of the day.
oOo oOo oOo
The afternoon passed relatively quickly for Anthea who had enough work to do to keep everything running in Mycroft's absence without the added drama of also looking for an informant and trying to work out exactly what had gone on since Mycroft's kidnapping.
Her own communications with the kidnappers - or at least the person holding Mycroft's blackberry - continued as they had done for the last week. Despite her instincts telling her to keep quiet and stop emailing she forced herself to act as though it really was Mycroft on the other end and informed him of everything she normally would. She read the responses with interest and realised that the majority of the correspondence was actually on target - so the person controlling the emails was well informed, and intelligent enough to respond in a close approximation of Mr Holmes' style.
Early on that day an email had appeared explaining his presence at the meeting in Obecnice was required for an extra three days and could she reschedule all his appointments for after Wednesday. They had all debated on Sunday what the kidnappers would do on Monday given that Mycroft was expected back in the office but clearly hadn't returned. Anthea wondered if they were out looking for him or if they thought some kind of accident had befallen him after he'd left their property and that was why he hadn't been seen. It didn't really matter so long as they didn't force her hand too soon. As long as all parties could keep up the pretence of Mycroft being overseas then everything would work just fine.
After all, the agreement was being signed on Wednesday morning - they only had to keep this up for another 36 hours or so before it would all be over.
oOo oOo oOo
As promised John was waiting outside the tube station when Anthea appeared promptly at 6pm, carrying a garment bag and a small holdall as well as her laptop. John quickly relieved her of her bags and they took a tube to Oxford Circus before he hailed a taxi back to Baker Street. It went without saying that the circuitous route was in an attempt to shake off any mild tails she may have picked up.
Once they were seated in the back of the cab John looked down at her bags and smiled with one eyebrow raised in query, "You came prepared?"
She grinned, and he was charmed to see such an unexpectedly natural smile directed at him, "One learns very quickly when working with Mr Holmes to have suitable attire stored in the office for a week's trip to just about anywhere." Anthea explained.
John chuckled appreciatively, understanding very well what it must be like to have to drop everything at a moment's notice… not that Sherlock expected that of him… much.
Despite the rush hour traffic they made good time to Baker Street and John jumped out of the cab and opened the door to the building before coming back to assist Anthea with her bags. She wondered why for a moment before realising he was ensuring she was covered by him as much as possible - for this would be the most dangerous part as the chances 221b was under some kind of surveillance was high and her appearance would certainly set off alarm bells somewhere.
Neither of them hesitated and crossed the pavement briskly and walked straight into the house, John closing and locking the door behind him. He gestured her up the stairs and followed with her bags.
When she opened the door to the flat she looked around the living room in amazement - the wall of evidence and strategy from yesterday had exploded and now covered all available space within the room, including the floor, tables, and every single inch of wall-space. The only areas clear were the chairs and sofa, and a careful path between these and the kitchen. Mycroft and Sherlock were sitting in the two armchairs with identical expressions of deep thought and she suppressed a smile at the near mirror-image body language of the two men, both with their hands steepled under their chins and a frown creasing their brows as they thought. They might squabble and declare themselves to be enemies but the two were far more similar than either of them would like to admit.
John followed her through and grinned at her expression. "I'll take these upstairs for you Anthea - you'll be using my room if that is alright?"
"Oh, thank you John… I hadn't thought… are you sure that's okay?" She felt a sudden flash of being the outsider to this group of men who were brothers by blood or by choice. What was she? Merely an employee… Insecurity was not normally a trait of hers, but none of the day had exactly been normal so far.
John looked at her shrewdly and she got the feeling he'd caught most of what she'd thought. "Don't be silly, of course it is okay. I'm not leaving you on the sofa while Sherlock paces back and forth until some ridiculous hour of the morning," he nudged her with his elbow, "Least I can do after you got us all the files today. We wouldn't have got as far as we have without your help - don't you forget it."
oOo oOo oOo
Before long the bags were stored, takeaway ordered and they gathered around the kitchen table to eat. Conversation flowed as the four of them spoke of their progress that day and made refinements to the plans for Tuesday.
Anthea had been correct - there were four companies who were expected to make significant profits from Mycroft's disappearance - Pearson & Turner (surgical instruments), WPS Ltd (nuclear reactor parts), Domitor Pharmaceuticals (drugs manufacturer), and Nicholson brothers (precious metals). As far as they could tell there was nothing linking the four other than this deal, although Sherlock was going to look into associations between them further that night.
With Anthea able to spend time accessing the files she had transferred earlier she was quickly able to write further programmes to identify patterns in the writing similar to those used by the kidnappers masquerading as Mycroft. Before long she had amassed a wealth of information about the deals which could be used to stop them. She was in her element working on this - it was her kind of puzzle - and she barely noticed the impressed looks all three men were giving her as she blitzed through the swathes of data and unerringly identified the salient files from hundreds of similar ones.
So far there was no progress on discovering the person or group behind the whole thing, or on discovering who the informant in the office was, but Anthea had various half-truths and bits of data to plant late on Tuesday in the hopes of discovering where the leak was coming from. The challenge would be to get the timing right so they were able to remove the person quickly on Wednesday just before the signing without them realising Anthea and Mycroft were on to them.
Eventually Anthea conceded defeat and went to bed. Tuesday was going to be a long day and she got the feeling she'd need every minute of sleep she could get beforehand. Besides, she had a lot to think about. She lived alone, and like all of them, work was her all. She certainly hadn't expected to enjoy herself quite as much as she had that evening given the threats hanging over them all. There had been laughter and kind words around the dinner table even as they worked furiously on the problems ahead of them. There had been quiet appreciation from Mycroft and Sherlock at the way she had handled the data that day too, as well as casual acceptance from John that she was one of them. It had left her feeling surprisingly warm and grateful to be part of this, no matter how dangerous it might get.
A/N - Next chapter - John and Sherlock track down the first supplier on their list.
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