The Other Side - BBC Sherlock Fanfiction

Chapter 18 - Tea and Tactics

Angel
When I am finally allowed home I try my best to get my head in gear. I have a lot of work to do; England is relying on me. In true British style I sit in my bed armed with my laptop and a cup of tea in one hand. I sip thoughtfully, trying to think of ways to avoid dying. The tea helps to keep the fear at bay but as I drain the last dregs of my mug, cold fingers of dread creep up. 

While the kettle boils I figure that it may be a good idea to wear a bulletproof vest to protect myself and a mask of some form so that I'm not recognised - prosthetic will be best. Hair is easy, I can buy wash-in-wash-out hair dye. Unfortunately my signature converse would be a little too regonisable amongst a large group of politicians... I'll have to settle for pumps.

The kettle steams merrily as I pour its contents into my mug. Obviously I'll need an ear piece but Jim'll expect that, Mycroft and I need another way of signally each other. Think, think, think. Mycroft is pretty versatile, he'll be able to pick up any language thrown at him. It's more a question of whether or not Jim and I know it. I list all of the languages I speak: English, Welsh, Irish, French, Spanish, German, Italian, Romanian, Russian, Portuguese, Mandarin, Japanese. Not a single one of them is unusual enough for Jim not to know them. Morse code would be perfect but JIm definitely knows that. Why does he have to be so goddamn smart? Unless- I've got it! I know sign language, the perfect way to communicate without sound. No one would even know that I was doing it. 

"Jim!" I yell. "Do you know sign language?"  I'm met with a noncommittal grunt, which I take as a no.

I type out a quick email to Mycroft.

Dear Mycroft, 
Jim has not, as yet, revealed any further details but I have a few ideas to firstly protect the PM and secondly protect me. I need the two of us to be wearing bulletproof vests, although make sure he is kept in the dark - the less he knows the better. I'll require some sort of fool proof disguise which can withhold lots of movement but please, no wigs. As you would expect I want an earpiece, more for you to talk to me than the other way around. Jim and his employees aren't stupid, they know when someone is talking into an earpiece. I have come up with a slightly less risky way of communication. Jim doesn't know sign language; I, however, do. I assume that either you know it or can learn it quickly. If I'm subtle enough he'll never no that I'm communicating with anybody at all. You, of course will be able to see through the cameras which will cover the entire building.

There must be no blind spots.

From Agent Angel Dirks

Ping! My computer flashes a notification saying that the plans for Operation Cameron have been updated. In addition to what was already there it has the details of the intercom system being  used, that makes things easier. Luckily I haven't pressed send on the email. I amend it to include the new information and advise Mycroft to hack it as quickly and discreetly as possible. 

Bored of typing I decide to have a look through my crowded wardrobe for some suitably unassuming clothes. I need to dress to blend in - something smart - but I also need to able to move, should I need to run or fight. Given the task in hand running and fighting seem rather likely.

I look unsystematically through the contents, rediscovering clothes which I haven't seen in months. I woefully cast aside my coverse and witty t-shirts, keeping the smartest clothes I own as a possibility. Trouble is, I don't own very many smart clothes... I end up with a couple of black pencil skirts, a red blouse and some trousers with are too big. Time for a shopping spree I think. 

I set out to Oxford Street, where I'm sure to find something. Once I get there I am drawn like a magnet to the Disney store. I manage to stop myself in the door way. "You're a grown woman, Angel." I mutter to myself, internally slapping myself in the face. Turning on my heel I walk into the first 'smart' shop which I see. When I see the price tags I quickly walk out again - I'm not prepared to way £400 for a skirt.

I browse through the next shop, picking up bits and pieces and dropping them into the basket hanging from my arm. I go into the changing rooms to try them on. After much debate I decide on a white top, black cardigan and some tight, but stretchy, trousers. I go to the checkout and help myself to one of the mints sitting in a bowl on the table which earns me a funny look. 

Walking out of the shop, my phone rings; it's Mycroft. 
"Hello?" I say.
"You want a prosthetic mask?" He asks, exasperatedly. "I'm sorry but that is not going to happen, we don't have the time or the budget." Well, great. Now what am I supposed to do?
"What do you suggest then?" I snap angrily. 
"Make-up should do the trick, and coloured contacts." I sigh,
"Fine."  and hang up. 

On my way home I take a detour via a party shop which sells coloureed contacts. I don't look forward to wearing them; they itch really badly.

***

Right guys, now that I'm a decent way through writing The Other Side, I'm thinking about what to do next. CAN YOU HELP ME? I have a few suggestions, tell me what you think please. :) - A book of Oneshots - John's 'deleted' blog posts during The Other Side - A different Sherlock fanfiction - A fanfiction of another fandom - A fiction story (not fan) Please either inbox me or post ideas and suggestions on my page. Thank you!!!