Sherlock Holmes and his loyal sidekick John are out to save the world. . . again. This time, they're working together with other sociopaths and child geniuses of the secret government agency Thoth, part of the Daedalus project. But when Jack the Rip...
Kelsie suddenly bent over her wrist, her face darkening. "I've just got a text, but I don't know who sent it. But it's for you, Sherlock." She held out a watch, something similar to the Apple smartwatch, but a little bulkier and even more advanced.
Sherlock took it from her, frowning. "The Ripper returns. I never die, Good luck detective." He read aloud, then looked at Mycroft. "He knows I'm here. That's not good."
Mycroft looked very annoyed, and even a little . . . frightened? "That's impossible. No one knew you came here except for John, right?"
"Of course, I made sure we weren't followed." Sherlock replied. The watch beeped again, and a new text popped up. "I'll see you later today at Hertford."
Sherlock glanced around at the teenagers, selecting a team. "Samantha, Kelsie, Liam, Kayden, and Angel, come with me. We need to get to Hertford."
After a quick consultation of train schedules, Sherlock, the five Thoth agents, and myself were sitting on grey plush seats, looking like the miniature version of a school field-trip -- if schools were usually populated by children who were doing math problems or expert card tricks in their spare time.
Liam passed a deck of cards around between his hands, making them fly through the air. He slipped out all of the royals, then slipped all of the queens and jacks into his left hand. His right hand juggled the kings between his fingers, then his hand flexed back and the kings were gone. Samantha still had her ping-pong paddle, and she effortlessly bounced a ping-pong ball on it, alternating with Angel the numbers of pi.
"So." I said to Sherlock.
"Mm?" He looked at me.
"When we get there, what do we look for?" I asked. "And, well, who could have contacted us in the first place anyway?"
"1." Samantha chirped.
"7." Angel responded.
"4."
Sherlock shrugged. "I don't know, John. Anything could happen. But we're not walking blind into a trap."
"What do you mean?" I asked. Sherlock shook his head. "Can't tell you. One of us is probably bugged. Just know that we'll be alright. Maybe not necessarily alive, but alright."
"How comforting." I remarked dryly.
"9!"
"0!"
Samantha fumbled for a moment. "Um . . . six?"
"Got it!" Angel nodded. "Six!"
"5."
I stared out the window. Only half an hour left of pi to go.
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