The Reluctant Knight

by Amelia Price

  The Reluctant Knight

  Amelia Price

  Copyright 2016 Jess Mountifield

  Cover Copyright 2016 Elizabeth Mackey

  Smashwords edition

  All rights reserved.

  This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locals, organisations, or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Acknowledgements

  My thanks most definitely go to my own knight in shining armour, my husband Phil. I always look forward to the adventures we go on together. Also to my friends, Bear, Kate, Sophie, David, Alex and Chris, who not only put up with, but seem to enjoy my conversations about my characters and what they get up to. You guys help me feel accepted in all my weirdness.

  To my writer's group for the encouragement, the companionship while writing, and the advice when I'm stuck with plot holes. I always look forward to our meet-ups, especially in November.

  Also a big thank you to Ella for the editing. You're a dream to work with and I know the effort and guidance you've given for the whole series makes it so much better than it could have been otherwise.

  Similarly Elizabeth Mackey has done wonders once more. I keep saying this but I think this is the best cover yet. Love how you take such random suggestions and make something amazing every time.

  Finally, my biggest thanks always go to God, who somehow keeps me going and knows exactly when I need to hear His voice.

  Dedication

  To Amelia Grace. One day I'll come find you.

  Chapter 1

  A phone buzzing woke Mycroft from his doze. He glanced in the direction of the noise and saw it was the phone Amelia used to contact him, but when he glanced at the screen he noticed the message wasn't from her. It was an unknown number.

  I'm sorry. I couldn't stop them. She'll be dead in a few days. Delra

  Mycroft blinked a few times and sat up, his thoughts rapidly processing all the information this message gave away: firstly, Amelia was in danger; secondly, whoever this Mr Delra was he hadn't actually ever wanted Amelia to be hurt; and thirdly, he now knew not only of Mycroft's arrangement with her, but also had access to all the text-based communication between them.

  A shiver ran down Mycroft's spine as he threw back the covers on the bed. He had no time to waste. If something had happened to Amelia, he needed to find out what as soon as possible. She wasn't ready to get herself out of the more serious levels of trouble his station could bring her.

  The housekeeper started when he strode down into the kitchen. She was preparing food for later and her mouth fell open when she saw he wasn't even dressed. Never had she seen him in anything but a suit.

  “Where's Daniels? Oh, and I won't be needing breakfast this morning.”

  “Daniels isn't here. He just popped out. The hotel called him to pick up something. He said you'd mentioned it yesterday and he knew what he was getting.”

  Mycroft walked away as soon as she was half way through speaking. Daniels was expecting to pick up Amelia, but the hotel probably found her belongings in the room without her and phoned the emergency number he'd given them.

  Sometimes the uninquisitive nature of his servants backfired spectacularly. This was definitely one of those times.

  Mycroft hurried to his computer and logged in. Several seconds later he was accessing the cameras for the hotel's CCTV and scrolling through the feeds for the one outside Amelia's room door.

  It only took him a few minutes to find the right one. Minutes that could easily be precious, but he knew he had to think rationally and couldn't dwell on lost time. Panicking now would gain Amelia nothing.

  He started the feed at the time he left the night before, knowing she'd been fine and safe then. Not long after, his own agents cleared out of the rooms nearby, as he'd instructed them to do. After that, he watched it on high speed through the night.

  More minutes ticked by while nothing happened for hours of the footage. Over the course of the early morning a few people wandered down the corridor, but most were staff. Regardless of what they wore, Mycroft studied their features and actions. Some of them might be relevant for later.

  About half an hour before Amelia was due to check out of the room, he saw the door open. She stepped out, wearing the clothes she'd had on the night before, including the coat she'd hidden the revealing dress in. He could at least appreciate her modesty, even as the memory of her in nothing but the underwear she'd worn underneath popped into his head.

  With a frown of annoyance, Mycroft pushed the thought from his mind. Now was not the time for such sentiment. He could do little but watch while she wandered down the hall, followed only a few seconds later by two men.

  Mycroft didn't need to watch the rest of the footage to know they'd taken Amelia. The message alone confirmed what had happened, but he had to keep watching. He had to know exactly what they'd done to her. A part of him hoped her training had at least made it difficult.

  As he pulled up the next camera feed to see outside the lift, he knew it hadn't. The look on her face told him everything he needed to know. She thought she was safe and was off in her own little world. No doubt, thinking of him and the night before. While he sat there, a weight sinking into the base of his empty stomach, the men attacked her and swiftly overpowered her feeble attempts to struggle. She barely put up a fight.

  He sighed and slouched backwards. So far her training had been wasted. Right before they yanked a black bag over her head, he saw one thing that gave him hope, the fire in her eyes. She wasn't panicking, she was thinking.

  Before Mycroft could watch where they took her his desk phone rang. He picked it up, hoping it would be Daniels with more news.

  “Is Amelia safe?” Sherlock asked.

  “You got a message as well?” Mycroft replied, knowing there was no other explanation for the phone call out of the blue.”

  “Yes. Who sent it?”

  “The man behind the recent activity. The Russians have her, Sherlock.” Mycroft did his best to keep his voice even, but this was his brother he was talking to. Neither of them needed to speak to know they had to find her before she was out of the country or there might be little either of them could do to get her back safely.

  “How long ago?”

  “Almost two hours.”

  “There's a chance.”

  “It's slim.”

  “We'll work together,” Sherlock said. Mycroft nodded and knew that, for her, they could work together.

  “I'll be there shortly.”

  “No. She was taken from my main hotel. Go there. Daniels is already there.” There was an awkward silence after this, and Mycroft knew he needed to clarify. That this was one situation where he didn't want his younger brother to think him too lazy to respond to her kidnapping instead of sending someone inferior. “He went before I knew.”

  “Understood.” Sherlock hung up and Mycroft knew he couldn't waste any more time. He paused the footage. The rest could be watched on the way. No more time could be wasted if they were to catch up.

  It took him half the time he usually allowed to get dressed, but most people would never tell the difference. Another few minutes later he had all the equipm
ent he thought he might need slung in a bag over his arm. Daniels would have the rest in the car.

  “Tell Daniels to stay at the hotel. He'll ring for instructions shortly,” Mycroft said to his housekeeper. Giving no other explanation for his less than normal departure, he walked out of the house and along the path towards the nearest road that would have regular taxi drivers passing by.

  Half an hour after he got off the phone with Sherlock, Mycroft was sitting in a taxi, making his way to the hotel. By the time he got there and ascertained where Amelia had been taken from and in what vehicle, Mycroft knew he and his brother would be at least three hours behind. If the Russians had planned well, Amelia could be out of the country by now and Mycroft's ability to rescue her before she was harmed would be severely hampered.

  While on the way to the hotel, Mycroft opened the laptop back up again and finished watching the CCTV footage. As he expected, the men made her leave her handbag, along with everything in it, in the room, never touching it themselves and not letting her take anything from it, as far as he could tell. The cameras only afforded him a couple of angles, and he got no clear shots of their faces. They knew where they would be seen and made sure not to reveal anything identifying when passing the cameras.

  From there, the Russians took her down a staff lift and then bundled her into a catering trolley. She tried to struggle back out of it again, but a swift backhander swung her head back into the metal strut. From the way her head lolled in response he could tell it at least dazed her, if not entirely knocked her out.

  After that, they had no resistance in getting her out of the hotel. She was bundled into the back of a van, one of the men getting in with her. No doubt to keep her quiet and compliant. The other then hoped into the driver's seat. Five seconds later the van pulled off.

  Thankfully, the CCTV got a good look at the license plate of the van, but he knew that only meant they would change vehicle soon. Given how far behind he was, it was safe to assume they'd be in something different by now and he would have to work hard to find the next mode of transport if he stood any chance of catching up.

  He sent a description of the van and the registration to his secretary and Sherlock. It would be unlikely that his younger brother would be able to do anything with the information, but if they were to work together he needed to share everything. Hopefully, his brother would do the same, even if he hadn't always in the past.

  As he'd feared, it was gone midday by the time Mycroft paid the taxi-driver and got out. Despite the driver doing his best to get Mycroft there swiftly, and being paid handsomely for the effort, he was three hours and seven minutes behind Amelia.

  Before Mycroft could take more than a few steps towards the hotel, Sherlock came out, Amelia's small handbag tucked under one arm. Farther up the street Daniels stood, waiting by the car.

  “There was a third man, watching the front of the hotel,” Sherlock said, skipping any kind of greeting. He left on a motorbike and went eastwards. So did the van, according to the single witness I found of that.”

  “Channel tunnel, then?”

  “At this point it's the most likely, but they're bound to change cars.”

  “Of course. Come.”

  Mycroft led them both to the car and neither wasted any time in getting in. Daniels was behind the wheel and ready to pull off before they were seated. He didn't say a word but looked at Mycroft in the rear view mirror. Daniels knew how serious the situation was.

  Not saying a word to anyone, Mycroft handed his spare laptop to Sherlock and re-opened his own. He would look for the van while his younger brother searched for the motorbike. Both of them would have access to the entire city's CCTV footage to track the cars, something Mycroft had done for Amelia in the past. It was against the standard regulations for access, to give his younger brother unlimited usage of it, but it was an infraction that would go unpunished even in the unlikely scenario that it was even noticed.

  “Head East, to the M20,” Mycroft said a couple of seconds later, seeing the van on a CCTV camera several roads up, heading in that direction still.

  For the next twenty minutes Mycroft and Sherlock directed Daniels through the London traffic towards a fixed point near Left Hook Boxing Gym and Shadwell station. The motorbike arrived there first, and the driver disappeared into a building nearby without removing his helmet. Again they had no clear shot of a face.

  About ten minutes later the van pulled into the car park nearby. They parked up out of view of any of the cameras. Mycroft knew they switched to another vehicle at this point but had no idea what. Several different cars pulled out of the same car park and he had no way of knowing which one of them Amelia was in.

  While Daniels pulled up into the same car park, Mycroft forwarded the registration numbers of every car that came out in the next half an hour to his secretary and demanded she run a background check on all of them.

  “The motorbike rider came back to his bike and drove off again,” Sherlock said before Mycroft could get out.

  “Follow him,” Mycroft replied, but he barely needed to; already Sherlock was moving to the next camera to see where he went. His younger brother didn't need him to point out it might be their only lead.

  Feeling the weight in his stomach get even heavier, Mycroft got out of the car and walked to the area of the car park not covered by the CCTV footage at the right time. He could only hope that something on the ground let him know what had happened.

  Immediately, he spotted the white van, parked in the corner and abandoned, although no one else would know that until much later. It wasn't surprising for something like that to be left in an area of London like this for at least twelve hours.

  Somehow, Mycroft had to work out where they took Amelia next, and if it took longer than ten minutes he'd fall even further behind her.

  Chapter 2

  Despite the sodden cloth in Amelia's mouth, her teeth chattered together and her head throbbed in time as the two men rolled her along in the cart. The little wheels weren't designed to roll over such uneven concrete, but it pulled her out of the fog her mind had been in and helped her work out that she was out the back of the hotel somewhere. It only saddened her when she realised the information was useless if she couldn't pass it on to anyone else.

  Before she could think any further, the cloth over the cart was swept backwards and she was lifted again. Once more, she tried to struggle, but being tied, gagged and unable to see gave her little room to achieve anything against two strong men. None of her training had covered what to do after you'd been incapacitated.

  As she was slung onto a hard metal floor, she felt a strange sense of weightlessness before she came down hard on one arm. Pain flared, making her grunt. Sounds of scuffles on the cold metal nearby let her know she wasn't going to be alone for the journey, and then she heard the sound of two doors shutting.

  A few seconds later another opened and then slammed, but more quietly, as if it was farther away. When the engine started up with a deep, throaty, and ever so slightly inconsistent, rumble she knew she must be in the back of a van.

  While Amelia lay there, letting the pain in her arm fade, she thought over everything Tom had taught her in their last lesson together the previous morning. It only made her wish she'd had longer to practice it and hadn't been so awkward about paying attention. Right now it might have been something that could get her out of this mess.

  Trying to calm herself down, she closed her eyes and focused on everything she could hear and feel. Someone coughed nearby, giving her a pinpoint on the exact position of her nearest captor. It wasn't a lot of information but it was something new.

  Her heart raced and moisture prickled her eyes as she thought about the situation she was in, but she did her best to fight it off. It wouldn't do her any good to let panic overwhelm her, but this wasn't like the previous attacks she'd faced. These men had tried to kill her on previous occasions, and unlike her stalker only months earlier, Amelia knew there would be no talking her
way out of this one. She was alone and there would be no direct help from the Holmes brothers.

  She exhaled, noticing her nose was starting to block up from the tears threatening to fall. In such a short space of time the wad of cloth in her mouth had dried it out soaking up all the moisture and swelling to fill the space so completely if she couldn't breathe through her nose she'd suffocate.

  Amelia reminded herself that this might all be a test and felt herself relax her tense muscles a little. If Myron wanted to see how she'd perform in this situation she wanted to leave him stunned by how well she coped. And if it wasn't a test, her life depended on her coping.

  After focusing on her breathing for several minutes, she felt much calmer and returned her attention to the task of escaping, or getting a message to Myron. She could only hope he noticed her absence swiftly. After all, she'd been taken from a hotel he probably owned.

  For a few seconds she considered trying to work out where she was going, but she knew she just didn't know London well enough. Even if she did, she'd not taken notice of the first few turns. It would be Myron who would have to trace the journey. She needed to focus on escape. While her hands were tied in front of her she couldn't do much with them, but her feet were untied, and that meant she could run.

  Somehow, she'd need enough time to pull the bag off her head as she doubted they were going to remove it soon. While she was thinking about this, it occurred to her that she would need even longer. Her eyes would need to adjust. She'd spent long enough in the dark that her vision would be blinded by daylight. Once more, she wished she'd performed better at Tom's last lesson.

  Time seemed to stretch out as Amelia went over the same few thoughts again. She knew she needed to try and escape and she needed to try and get a message to whoever might be coming after her, assuming this wasn't a test. If it was, no one would come after her.