out of the
country. Make sure every person manning any of the eastern borders
know to stop them.” Mycroft knew he was emphasising something that
probably didn't need it, but he wouldn't take any chances. For the
first time in this chase, they knew the car while she was still in
it.
“Of course,
sir.”
Mycroft hung up
and turned the volume up on Amelia's feed. He hoped her internal
body clock was still working well enough to wake her, now it was
morning.
By the time she
was stirring Sherlock was yawning, but he stifled it when Amelia's
whispering voice filled the car again.
“Myron...” she
sighed. “Myron, I'm sorry, I fell asleep. I don't know how long
for. It's still dark in here. Just in case you didn't hear it last
time, the last I knew I was in Eholfing.”
Mycroft listened
as she repeated all the information she'd given them once more. It
wasn't useful a second time but given that she had no idea if
anyone was listening to her, he knew she was being sensible in
repeating it.
“I really hope
you're listening to this, Myron. I... I don't know if I can get out
of this alone. I'll do my best, but I've not had a good opportunity
to do anything yet. Please, do what you can to get me safe. I
promise once this is over I'll learn Morse code. I even think I'll
learn Russian.”
Sherlock chuckled
from the front seat, but went quiet as soon as she resumed
speaking.
“Please, please
help, Myron. I'm scared of small spaces. I don't know how much
longer I can hold myself together.”
“Is there any way
we can get a message back to her?” Daniels asked.
Mycroft shook his
head. While everyone with him was aware they were doing everything
they could to help her, she would only have hope to sustain
her.
For a few minutes
they listened to her breathing as she tried to stay calm. At first
it sounded very much like she might cry again, but she managed to
hold herself together and steady her breathing back down.
Mycroft was just
about to pull his phone back out and demand the Commissioner tell
him why it was taking so long to have the car stopped when Amelia
piped up again.
“I think we're
stopping somewhere again,” she whispered and then fell silent.
Mycroft clenched
his fists together, powerless to do anything if they changed cars
again. With nothing to do but listen, he tilted his head back and
closed his eyes, willing his face to remain impassive and his
muscles to relax.
While he sat there
he heard the click of the boot lid being pulled back. There was
more swearing and then some yelling in Russian, followed by a thud
and a grunt from Amelia.
“You want to make
trouble, do you?” one of the men yelled.
“I couldn't
breathe, I couldn't breathe,” Amelia replied in between whimpers of
pain. “Please. I'm scared.”
“Shut up,” the
same man said. Sounds of muffled squeals of pain and smacks
followed right after and continued for several minutes until a loud
thud and a boot lid slamming ended the commotion. During the rough
treatment Mycroft had managed to make out some of the speech
between the men. They'd tied her hands behind her back this time
and she'd been gagged and black-bagged again.
A few seconds
later Amelia grunted some more and tried to make as much noise as
possible. The lid opened right back up again and the sound of
several more loud smacks and thuds came through his speakers, each
one punctuated by a muffled whimper.
“Shut up.”
When Amelia was
enclosed for a second time everything went quiet. Mycroft glanced
at the clock. It was almost ten in the morning on local time. For
the next couple of minutes, all that could be heard in the car was
Amelia's breathing as she tried to calm down.
It was now almost
certain that Amelia was in a different car once again, but he
didn't call off the hunt for the previous car. It would be vaguely
useful, and there was always a small chance that the police in the
area could trace one car to the other quicker than he could from
his limited
country. Make sure every person manning any of the eastern borders
know to stop them.” Mycroft knew he was emphasising something that
probably didn't need it, but he wouldn't take any chances. For the
first time in this chase, they knew the car while she was still in
it.
“Of course,
sir.”
Mycroft hung up
and turned the volume up on Amelia's feed. He hoped her internal
body clock was still working well enough to wake her, now it was
morning.
By the time she
was stirring Sherlock was yawning, but he stifled it when Amelia's
whispering voice filled the car again.
“Myron...” she
sighed. “Myron, I'm sorry, I fell asleep. I don't know how long
for. It's still dark in here. Just in case you didn't hear it last
time, the last I knew I was in Eholfing.”
Mycroft listened
as she repeated all the information she'd given them once more. It
wasn't useful a second time but given that she had no idea if
anyone was listening to her, he knew she was being sensible in
repeating it.
“I really hope
you're listening to this, Myron. I... I don't know if I can get out
of this alone. I'll do my best, but I've not had a good opportunity
to do anything yet. Please, do what you can to get me safe. I
promise once this is over I'll learn Morse code. I even think I'll
learn Russian.”
Sherlock chuckled
from the front seat, but went quiet as soon as she resumed
speaking.
“Please, please
help, Myron. I'm scared of small spaces. I don't know how much
longer I can hold myself together.”
“Is there any way
we can get a message back to her?” Daniels asked.
Mycroft shook his
head. While everyone with him was aware they were doing everything
they could to help her, she would only have hope to sustain
her.
For a few minutes
they listened to her breathing as she tried to stay calm. At first
it sounded very much like she might cry again, but she managed to
hold herself together and steady her breathing back down.
Mycroft was just
about to pull his phone back out and demand the Commissioner tell
him why it was taking so long to have the car stopped when Amelia
piped up again.
“I think we're
stopping somewhere again,” she whispered and then fell silent.
Mycroft clenched
his fists together, powerless to do anything if they changed cars
again. With nothing to do but listen, he tilted his head back and
closed his eyes, willing his face to remain impassive and his
muscles to relax.
While he sat there
he heard the click of the boot lid being pulled back. There was
more swearing and then some yelling in Russian, followed by a thud
and a grunt from Amelia.
“You want to make
trouble, do you?” one of the men yelled.
“I couldn't
breathe, I couldn't breathe,” Amelia replied in between whimpers of
pain. “Please. I'm scared.”
“Shut up,” the
same man said. Sounds of muffled squeals of pain and smacks
followed right after and continued for several minutes until a loud
thud and a boot lid slamming ended the commotion. During the rough
treatment Mycroft had managed to make out some of the speech
between the men. They'd tied her hands behind her back this time
and she'd been gagged and black-bagged again.
A few seconds
later Amelia grunted some more and tried to make as much noise as
possible. The lid opened right back up again and the sound of
several more loud smacks and thuds came through his speakers, each
one punctuated by a muffled whimper.
“Shut up.”
When Amelia was
enclosed for a second time everything went quiet. Mycroft glanced
at the clock. It was almost ten in the morning on local time. For
the next couple of minutes, all that could be heard in the car was
Amelia's breathing as she tried to calm down.
It was now almost
certain that Amelia was in a different car once again, but he
didn't call off the hunt for the previous car. It would be vaguely
useful, and there was always a small chance that the police in the
area could trace one car to the other quicker than he could from
his limited
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