Chapter Eleven

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When I wake up, we're still in the back of the van. They've placed a cloth gag in my mouth, bound my hands and feet tight together, and put a small potato sack over my head so I can't see, but apart from that, I'm grand.

Beside me, I sense Sarah shaking with fear as the van jolts to a stop and the doors are opened. A couple of men step in, taking the bags off our heads and slitting the ropes binding our feet before leading us out, whilst a third lifts John out, bridal style. He must still be unconscious. They lead us down a flight of stone steps into a dark tunnel, lit only by some dim, flickering lights which bounce clumsily off the grimy walls. Sleek hideout.

I don't resist as they lead us down, gathering as much information about this hideout as I can so I can return with dad after I escape - which I will. I have to bide my time: if I struggle now, I'll be putting John and Sarah in danger and waste precious energy reserves.

We walk past some stacked-up containers against the tunnel walls and it seems as if we've arrived at the main part of their headquarters. A fire burns in a dustbin in front, and the firelight flickers against the tunnel walls.

Sarah and I are lead over to two chairs beside the fire while John is carefully lowered into a third and bound tightly. I notice a small cut across his left temple and deduce he was knocked out with a blow to the head with something heavy like a gun, so I must assume they're all armed. Not that it would be advisable to use a gun in here - the tunnels are too narrow: a stray bullet could hit any one of us.

I notice Sarah is crying as we're tied to the chairs and I give her a comforting smile as my kidnapper takes the gag from my mouth. I was right earlier: this is definitely a date she'll remember. Whether or not she'll want to see John after this is another thing.

A Chinese woman with sunglasses steps out from behind one of the containers and my eyes narrow as I recognise her as the 'tourist' following us around London. It wasn't paranoia: she really was watching us.

"Good evening, ladies," she says, and as she speaks and I realise she's also The Opera Singer from tonight's performance. The ringmaster of this entire operation: General Shan. "It is unfortunate you got caught up in all this. It was never the plan."

"What plan?" I ask, dumbing myself down and willing that Sarah plays along too. "Please, I don't know what you mean!"

Shan steps forward, closer towards me. "I have seen you many times around Mr Holmes and his companion, yet I don't have a name for you."

She doesn't know who I am? Then I can remove any emotional leverage she might hold over dad.

"I'm Ellie Watson, and this is my mum," I reply, breathlessly.

"I'm only in town for a few weeks," Sarah says, accepting the role and playing it surprisingly well. "I'm sorry - I just wanted to see my daughter. Please let her go!"

I glance over to her and we exchange looks of mock terror. Well, mine is, anyway - I know what I'm doing.

"I see no reason not to believe you," Shan says slowly after watching us for a moment. "But still, Mr Holmes seems to value his companion, so family will also count into the bargain." I curse silently under my breath; this is not working out how I'd planned. "You will be released, unharmed, if Sherlock Holmes gives me then treasure, if not, then I'm sure we can make a deal over your bodies."

I shiver slightly as the fire blows away, but I keep my eyes on her as she turns away from us. The men who brought us here step forward from the shadows once more and fasten the gags back into our mouths as we struggle. In front, I watch as John regains consciousness and raises his hand to the cut on his head.

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