2: Preparations, Interrupted

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Once at the small flat I'd been renting, I dressed into a woolly jumper and jeans and grabbed my laptop. I prepared myself a cup of coffee and reclined on the sofa.

Once logged on, I quickly made preparations to travel to London, booking a 1st class ticket from Manchester to London for 8:00. The flat was homely and comfortable, and the rent was cheap.

The marble coffee table contained numerous mugs of half-finished coffee, and the floor was littered with clothing and discarded food packets.

Sue me, I don't like cleaning

Surveying the flat, I realised that something was off. There was a smell in the air, of men's aftershave. Looking around, I saw the DVD player was not where I left it, and the dust particles had been disturbed in a few areas.

Alarm bells started ringing, and I began searching the flat. Nothing was missing, and if police had been in here they would have found nothing, as I kept all the incriminating stuff under a loose floorboard under the doormat by the door.

As I came to the bookshelf, I saw a small, barely noticeable microphone stuck on the top shelf. Wedged in between two books. Upon further inspection, I found several others dotted around the room, as well as one or two in the kitchen, bathroom and bedroom.

I hastily packed all the stuff that I needed, discarding the stuff that I didn't need. I packed a duffel bag, containing my computer, 3 hard drives with my 3 years of hacking and coding files on them. I also packed two guns, stuffing another in the back of my jeans for good measure.

At the door, I glanced around at the small flat which had. I had to keep running. I had taken certain precautions, just in case the police, or whoever had been in my flat were aware of my appearance.

I looked at my appearance in the mirror and smiled slightly. Out of all of my disguises, this was by far one of the good ones. I had secured upon my head a platinum blonde wig, covering my original brunette hair. I also put on blue contact lenses to cover my brown eyes. After applying a careful sweep of mauve lipstick and a generous coating of eyeliner, I walked out of the flat, creating a character for myself.

I left the building and checked my watch, which read 7:47. I began making my way towards the train, I walked differently. I straightened my shoulders and walked confidently, just in case I was being tailed. I deliberately bumped into someone.

"Oh hon I'm so sorry, are ya alright?" I drawled in an American accent, helping him up from the floor, brushing him down and pick-pocketing his glasses from his pocket in the process. Turning the corner I put them on. I checked my watch again. 7:51. I ran into the train station, and jumped onto my train, with time to spare.

Looking at the station platform, that's when I noticed them. Policemen in plainclothes. Quite obvious, I thought, analysing their appearance. One of them was shorter than the other. Owns two small dogs, and has gambling problems. Unhappily married. Nicotine stains on his fingers. Chain-smoker. Gun in the back pocket. I smirked at that, I mean, one gun against me. Pathetic.

The other guy was unusual for a police officer.

I narrowed my eyes at him, deducing what I could. Young. He wore a long blue coat and had a mop of curly black hair. Nice shoes, professional dress. An indoor job. Office worker. Hmm... something doesn't add up. Plays the violin according to the state of his fingers and the position of his feet. His dominant foot stands behind his non-dominant one, pointed slightly to the side. Has a smoking habit, possible two-no three nicotine patches on his left arm. He is very analytical, eyes keep darting everywhere. He has sharp angles to his face and icy blue eyes.

He was currently memorising the train times, occasionally glancing at his watch. I watched him nervously, fidgeting in my seat, wishing that the train would move already. I looked down and began fiddling with my bag strap. A little while later I looked up again to find him looking right at me. I saw him muttering urgently to his companion, and they both locked eyes on me and started moving towards the train, pushing people out of the way.

The train suddenly lurched into movement, leaving the two policemen on the platform. I released the pent up breath that I didn't realise I was holding and relaxed into the seat. Analysing what I should do next, I realised that they may have phoned ahead, and it was possible that once the train pulls up to the next station, the train may be searched. Again, I felt lucky that they didn't know what station I'd be leaving.

Formulating a plan, I rummaged through my bag and grabbed the spare wig I had stuffed in there in case of an occasion like this. I discreetly removed my blonde wig and replaced it with an auburn wig. When it was secured firmly in place, I shrugged a large black coat over my shoulders, cursing my stupidity. I should have brought makeup to disguise myself better I sighed wearily. Oh well, at least the police think they are looking for a blonde. As long as I don't cross paths with that curly-haired police officer, I'll be fine.

I sighed again. My plan was already perfectly formulated. After burning the file James Moriarty gave me, it struck me how strange it was for him to have decided to find me out of the blue. He'd never made any attempts before, at least, not to my knowledge.

 How did he find me? I had made it impossible to trace my location, constantly changing my name and residence.

A few hours later, I looked out of the window to see the train pulling into Euston station.

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