The Devil in Devon

Chapter Fourteen

Elena regained consciousness while John was clipping an oximeter to her finger. She blinked a few times before staring in confusion at the IV stand and monitoring equipment that was connected to her body.

"John." Her voice was frail. "Am I in a hospital?"

"No." He stood up and tucked the blanket over her hand. "Well, not one that the NHS knows about anyway. This is Mycroft's headquarters outside Exeter."

Fear livened her eyes. "Am I in custody?" She struggled to sit up. John hurriedly placed a hand on her thin shoulder.

"Protective custody, yes. But you're not a prisoner."

"Alexei? Petra?"

"They're here and they're fine."

Reluctantly, she settled back against the pillows. "I want to see them."

"I'll get them for you. Petra's resting –she's mildly wounded, but she'll be all right- and Alexei is with Mycroft and an explosives expert from Mycroft's office."

"Myke," she whispered. "Am I correct in assuming that he tracked his brother to my cottage?"

"Actually, he tracked you."

Elena's brow creased. When John told her about the GPS device that Mycroft had dropped into her apron when she drugged him, she relaxed and actually smiled. "I'm not surprised. Myke always had a backup plan. You- you didn't tell him that Alexei is his…." Her voice trailed off as she glanced nervously at the door.

"No," John answered. "But Sherlock figured it out. And if Sherlock did, then Mycroft must have, but he's not said anything."

"That's Myke. Taking care of business before focusing on emotional subjects like family." There was no irony in her voice. "Alexei told you what happened? About escaping from the Consortium facility?"

"Yes. But that's not all he told us." Unable to keep the excitement from his tone, John told her about Alexei's discovery in the Consortium database. "He's talking to Mycroft's specialist now, giving him the necessary information to do something about this goddamn thing inside me."

Elena smiled. "I don't want to disturb him then. I'd be grateful if you would send Petra in. Alexei can come when he's done."

"All right. There's one more thing: according to the file Alexei read, the trigger word can only work once. We tested that theory –with me cuffed to a chair- and your name didn't turn me into a raving maniac this time."

"Good," she declared. "Be sure to let Sergei know that he's not as thorough and omnipotent as he'd like to believe."

John laughed. "I plan on delivering that message personally. I'll tell Petra you're awake."

As soon as he left the room and closed the door, John's smile dropped. Elena had not asked about the source of her collapse, sparing him the need to immediately tell her what Dr. Bruckman, Mycroft's cancer specialist, had determined. She'd been sedated upon arrival at the manor so that x-rays could be done and tests run, and the results- which were available within hours thanks to Mycroft's influence- confirmed John's initial impression. With or without her knowledge, the disease had progressed to the point that she had a month left. At the outside.

He suspected that Elena had refused temporary solutions such as chemotherapy once she understood that her condition was terminal. She probably didn't want to be plagued by nausea, hair loss, debilitation, and a reduced ability to enjoy her remaining time with Alexei. John understood, but still felt a pang. He'd grown fond of the beautiful, resourceful Polish agent during their brief association, and was genuinely grateful to her for trying to save him. He would feel her death strongly.