Brass Skies vol 2 (Draft)

Hope Must Die Part 5

Authors note:  Sorry this is so late.  I have been extremely sick these last few weeks.  Even had to go to the Emergency Room a couple of times.  To make up for it, this update is much longer.

The photograph was of nothing untoward, simply Leopold on a bench with Hope talking. They were not even holding hands. The only reason it was incriminating was because it showed him speaking with the enemy.

He remembered when it was taken. He had met with Hope in a professional capacity at a crowded fair that took place in one of the parks in the heart of London to discuss an issue that both their employers had a mutual interest in resolving. Leopold was even had official sanction from his superiors for the meeting. They had chosen that place because it would be crowded making it unlikely anyone could follow them or that they would be observed.

What they hadn't counted on was a roving photographer snapping a picture of them together without their permission as they were concluding their business. Both had been upset, and Hope had managed to talk the photographer into allowing her to not only buy the picture but the negatives as well, ostensibly with the intent of destroying them.

Thus Leopold was surprised that the photograph still existed. He was even more surprised that the photograph had the tell-tale signs of having been heavily handled.

"I found it hidden in a false bottom in her nightstand," Veronica whispered. "Don't worry, I haven't shared this with anyone. I know you don't have a relationship with her—you don't have the time or sensitivity for that—but I will admit I am curious about how it is you came to be photographed together."

"Work," Leopold grunted, trying to ignore the barb. "Classified but approved."

Veronica raised a single eyebrow. She looked like she was about to say something but thought better of it. She let the matter drop instead turning to face the room and sighed. "We haven't found anything useful yet. In fact, we haven't really found much of anything at all."

Leopold slipped the photograph into the pocket of his coat and slipped past Veronica leaving her to stare icily into his back as he took a quick glance around the room. "Time to go to work," he almost managed to keep the irritation out of his voice and his smile. Almost.

***

Hope slipped through the door and immediately closed it behind her. She allowed herself only a moment to lean back against it and let out a long breath before turning around and sliding the various bolts on the door into place.

The process took nearly a full minute, and it wasn't until the last lock was firmly in place that Hope allowed herself to feel cautiously optimistic that she might be safe. She had taken every precaution she knew to ensure she wasn't followed.

Even so, things were dicey for a few blocks when a quartet of Scotland Yard inspectors appeared behind her discussing the young spy they were supposed to be on the look out for. They were walking faster than she was. She picked up her pace as much as she dared, but they caught up to her, brushed past her, and turned into a bar. Her heart didn't stop pounding after that until she had reached her destination.

She glanced around the tiny room and winced wondering for the millionth time how anyone could call this room in one of the worst parts of town a "safe house." The entire room was so small that she could cross the width of it in about six steps, not including the narrow bed and shelf that could almost charitably be called a desk, and the length of it in less than twelve.

A thick layer of fine dust covered everything so thoroughly that in the faint sliver of light coming through the only window it almost looked like snow.

Hope let out another sigh and walked over to the chair near the desk and made a half-hearted attempt to dust it off. She sat down and reached back pulling the cover off a typewriter while closing her eyes and trying desperately to hold her breath as a grey-black cloud exploded into the air enveloping the entire desk as well as her face.

When the dust finally settled she imagined she probably looked like one of the imitation French mimes that occasionally graced the streets near one of the theaters or even a neglected cheap plaster statue, the later of which was probably a more accurate description than she would have liked. When she opened her eyes and wryly blew the dust out of her mouth she could not keep herself from rolling her eyes at the absurdity of it all.

Taking out a small book of matches from a pocket, she said a quick prayer that none of the dust was flammable or explosive then struck one and held it first to an oil lamp and then to a small, squat candle on bottom of the side of the typewriter.

She blew out the match with a long drawn out motion, pretending that she was preparing for a passionate kiss. She smirked to herself as a brief thought about the kinds of tips she could earn at her cover job for such a silly mundane task.

Bringing herself back to the task at hand, she reached to the row of books at the very back of the shelf carefully selecting one and pulling it out. It took her a couple of minutes to find the page she wanted. Once she did, she propped the book open and then went to work on the typewriter.

***

The next night, Hope was anxiously waiting at the address that Ravenhollow had specified. She was dressed similarly to the day before except her dress was a deep midnight blue and she had a matching hooded cape which helped make her harder to spot in the night. She also wore two pistols, one in a holster strapped to the opposite thigh as her knife. The other was a smaller single shot tucked down into her cleavage.

It was a fairly busy street and Hope could not help worrying that someone would recognize her and she carefully but discretely examined everyone that approached or passed by. At last, she saw Ravenhollow making his way up the street. Relieved, she slipped out of the shadows and started to approach him.

They were almost to each other when from the corner of her eye saw three figures appear from around a corner a couple of blocks away. Almost immediately, she recognized the figure in the middle. Worse, he met her eyes, shouted her name, and took off running towards her with the other men quickly following in rapid pursuit.

Quickly, Hope closed the gap to Ravenhollow, brushing past him to grab the envelope he held out. "Keep going," she said softly. She pretended to trip using the opportunity to slip the envelope into a secret pocket in her corset while her swirling cape obscured the movement from view.

She drew out and exaggerated the stumbling, using the chance to collide into the three men. She didn't fight when Leopold instinctively reached out to catch and steady her. In fact, when she realized he was about to order the other men to chase Ravenhollow she did about the farthest thing from fighting.

Standing on tiptoes, she silenced him and robbed him of his senses momentarily with one of the lowest expenditure but often-proven extremely effective methods available to women; a simple kiss.

When Leopold managed to regain his senses and push her away, to yell at her, the wily spy held a finger to his lips. "Hush. It won't do you any good. I know what you're looking for and he doesn't have it. I can honestly tell you he is not one of mine, and is merely the husband of a friend. If you wish to take me into custody, I will tell you where it is in six hours on the condition that you do not pursue him."

Leopold looked at her helplessly for a minute. Then he looked to the two men on either side of him and let out a virulent string of oaths. Eventually, he sighed and nodded.

Hope saw the look in his eyes before he spun her around and her heart grew as cold as the steel handcuffs he placed on her wrists.

***