Sherlock Holmes and the Red Maverick

Chapter 15- A Roughened Savior

Watson's POV

***************************

The men advanced toward us and I unsheathed my sword from my snake wood cane as the grew closer to Sherlock and I.

"Well then," Sherlock glanced around at the circle of men as the closed in on us. "I'll have you know I am the boxing champion of The Punch Bowl Inn."

A large heavy browed Italian man chuckled deeply as he raised his fist and engaged Sherlock. With his move the others progressed quickly. The group seemed to split in two leaving half of the men for each of us. I swiped my blade in a large arc, cutting one of the men's cheek, but he hardly flinched as blood began to leak from the rather large gash in his face.

They continued to tease me for some time before one knocked the sword out of my hand and kicked it across the room far out of reach. I flung my hand under my coat to the back of my trousers, my fingers clutching helplessly for my pistol. When I acknowledged that it was not there I let out a heavy sigh and my shoulders slumped a little as they continued to come toward me. It seems I would have no medium between my opponent and I.

One of the largest from my group drew his crooked elbow back over his shoulder while his fist was clenched at the end of the arm. I began to raise my hands to block the jab when we all froze in our tracks. We heard foot steps pounding up the steps outside. My brain worked quickly, trying to asses the possibility of who it was. Clearly these men werent expecting an addition to their party so that could only mean...

My head spun around as the door burst open and there, framed by the door way, was Cameo Caruso. Looking around at the scene with wild eyes and her hair severely out of place. The once tidy mass of curls that sat on top of her head tumbled down around her shoulders and only added to the unruly look that she was maintaining. My eyes ran over the rest of her and I took note that her dress was gone and had been replaced by weathered men's clothing. She was wearing a pair of tweed trousers with holes wearing at the knees and a leather waist coat with a couple of its buttons missing. Her red shirt peeking out at the sleeves was ripped in several places with a few spots that had been sloppily sewn back together. She looked like she had fought through quite a bit to get here on time.

A small smile parted her lips suddenly as her hand swung behind her back quickly and brought forth a pistol. She put her palm of her hand on the hammer of the gun and pointed it hesitantly at the men surrounding us. Her eyes lingering to my right where Sherlock was leaning down on his knees, his arms held up and out to the sides by the multitude of strong built men who seemed to have targeted him.

A man made a short movement toward her and her eyes flew over to where he was. The hammer came down with a click and the trigger flew back after ward. A moment of hesitation followed the gun shot and my eyes left her to see the man fall to the ground with a large smoking hole between his eye brows. Our opponents had a new target now and they began to set on her, but she had the upper hand. The hammer on the pistol clicked back again and the trigger sounded off the gun as another fell and yet they continued their procession toward her.

 I turned and took my chance at one of my own. One less for her to worry about. As our fists flew the gun continued to go off in a deafening order that barely left space between fires. There was no doubt in my mind that she was practiced with it. After a few well placed lunges on his part, I found myself with a hand over my abdomen and another over my eye. I peeked at my attacker above me as I sat back on one knee, I pulled my hands away from my injuries and brought them up in defense. Until the man fell away and backward from me. The last gunshot still echoing in the air.

A pair of arms came from behind me as I looked down at my attacker lying on the ground. They helped me up and onto my feet and turned me around lightly. Cameo examined my face carefully and then pulled away with a steadying hand still reaching out to me. Sher walked over to Sherlock who had slumped himself against the wall and was watching Cameo with cautious eyes.