Free The Reluctant Knight by Amelia Price

happen if the Russians sped as well. It
wouldn't change his decisions now. He'd come a long way and pushed
the British monarch too far to turn back. He would only be forgiven
if he delivered somehow.
    Not long into the
journey, Sherlock started to fidget.
    “I need something
to do. I'm wasted like this,” Sherlock said, ten minutes after
that.
    After half a
second's thought, Mycroft reached into one of the storage areas
built into the car and pulled out a small radio receiver.
Immediately, Sherlock's eyes lit up and he pulled a small
screwdriver from his pocket. If the police were following the
progress of the car at all, then there would be chatter on their
radio system. Once Sherlock had adjusted a few components inside,
it should work on the Ukrainian frequencies.
    Allowing his
brother to do all the work, Mycroft sat back and waited. Hearing
his brother doing something was much easier to tolerate than the
strange noises he made when he was bored.
    Several hours
passed by as Sherlock tried to find Amelia's exact whereabouts and
Mycroft tried to rest and wait. He caught a couple of
fifteen-minute naps throughout the day in between one-sided
conversations from Amelia, but something always woke him. He was
used to silence, not sharing a small space with both his brother
and his chauffeur.
    It had been dark
for a couple of hours by the time they reached the outskirts of
Kiev. Still not knowing how far behind Amelia they were, they
refuelled the car, and Daniels and Sherlock both acquired more
food. Mycroft stuck to his stash of biscuits and dried fruit in the
back of the car.
    One way or
another, they were about to start the final stretch. He estimated
they were a little under five hours away from the Russian border.
If they had been catching up with Amelia as he expected, they were
still twenty to thirty minutes behind.
    “Got something,”
Sherlock said from the passenger seat of the car. While eating,
he'd moved there to keep the smell of the fast food away from the
back of the car. It was a small gesture of understanding towards
Mycroft but he was grateful for it nonetheless.
    “The police are
keeping tabs on their car as well as ours. They're just the other
side of Kiev.”
    “Good, we're
catching up,” Mycroft replied, although it was possible it wasn't
quite fast enough. They were farther behind than he'd hoped.
    “I can go a little
faster on the straighter sections, I think.”
    “Do,” Sherlock and
Mycroft said in unison, but they needn't have bothered. Daniels was
already putting his foot as far down as it went.
    Not long after,
Amelia stirred, obviously getting ready for her regular download of
information.
    “Well, it's Amelia
again, Myron. Nothing's changed since I last spoke. I'm stuck in
the back of a car, being driven God knows where by three, maybe
four, Russian men. It's a blue Ford Focus, which, if you were
listening, would probably mean you'd rescued me by now.”
    Amelia paused and
exhaled, evidently holding back tears.
    “I can't keep
doing this. I'm going to assume you're not listening or able to do
anything to help. I...” Her voice broke off and Mycroft found
himself clenching his fists again. Even Sherlock looked
uncomfortable. “I just want to say, thank you for everything you've
taught me... and tried to teach me. For a short while there life
was pretty awesome.”
    Silence filled the
car as everyone looked away from each other. Mycroft swallowed and
tried to exhale slowly, not convinced he could breathe quietly
enough for Sherlock not to notice how discomposed he was. Amelia
was saying goodbye.
    “We'll rescue
her,” Sherlock said when it was evident Amelia was done. Mycroft
nodded, knowing they might not.
    As the next few
hours passed by, Mycroft could see Daniels getting more and more
tense. He gripped the steering wheel with both his hands, and his
knuckles whitened steadily, while he pushed the car as fast as it
would go whenever it could be done safely.
    Although they saw
police