What Kind of Man || Jim Moriarty

Twenty Eight

"Pick her up." Jim had his back to the other men in the room, arms hanging straight by his sides as he looked down on the city.

"Pull her off the job?" Sebastian scoffed. "But Magnussen, what will you tell him?"

"We have what we need for Magnussen." His pet had done well...better than even he expected. But when it came to Magnussen, her safety was more important. "Pick her up." He wouldn't say it again, yet Moran and another one of his goons remained standing behind him. Both watched Jim as if he had gone mad, eyes filled with doubt at his order.

"I'm sure the kid can look after herself." Sebastian dared to scoff. "She has Sam and Patrick looking after her back." Neither of the men, fully dressed in black combat gear understood why their recent discovery wound Moriarty up so much. Had it have been involving one of them, Jim would have waved them away most likely. Told them to shut up and get out as well as to stay out of trouble. However, as soon as the words had left Moran's mouth and the pictures had been slammed down on to Moriarty's desk, Jim's eyes had turned black and the thoughts could be seen whirling around his head.

"I said, PICK HER UP!" She was an asset. He'd worked hard to build her over the past 5 months but he had barely even started and nothing was going to get in the way of the progress they were making. "Go!" They still weren't moving. Apart from the moment he snapped his head around to glare at them, in which both grown men jumped and moved to leave the room. "Oh and Sebastian..." The Irish accent drawled out, a smirk having worked its way onto Jim's mouth. He knew how dear Seb would react to his next order. "When you have Katherine, take her to the house."

Sebastian went to speak but faltered, choosing instead to remain quiet and with a simple nod and a look at the other guy, they were gone.

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She'd been driving around for days, stuck in the back of a car driven by one of Moriarty's men for days. That would be more accurate. Cabin fever was starting to creep in, as well as a sense of weariness and lack of patience. Even when Katherine was required to leave the car to survey Mr Lutz's actions more closely, it didn't feel like she'd expected it too feel.

It always felt like something was on her back. No matter how closely she watched that man, that slime ball who had proved himself to be a good for nothing snake in the Underworld Moriarty followed so closely, Katherine always felt like someone else was watching her ever closer. That overwhelming need to cover ones face, to turn your back onto the heaviest gathering of the crowd, to keep your eyes down. That's what she felt. And the sensation grew stronger and stronger with each day that passed.

The majority of the past two weeks, she'd covered miles. Going from London to Manchester on day trips, London to Cornwall for...other personal reasons Aiden Lutz had to attend to. He was a sickening man, so much so she didn't even want to call him a man. A creature was better suited. Bribes, prostitutes, forgeries...she'd heard and saw it all happening around him. She shouldn't have been worried about not being able to gather information. As far as she was sure, Magnussen should have been able to do this himself if he'd tried a little harder. Once inside the doors of a club or a fancy restaurant, Mr Lutz didn't try very hard to hide things. She'd gathered enough information worthy of blackmail contents in the first couple of days. But Moriarty insisted she stay on the job for the amount of time agreed on before this began.

That's what led her to be there, standing on the corner of a street in one of the less populated parts of London. With a cigarette in hand, dressed in a long beige trench coat, Katherine's eyes peered across the road where the man in observation sat on a bench just beyond the gate to a small park. He wasn't alone, an older man sat with him and although it was the most casual of settings, it looked to be a mighty tense conversation.