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Reconnaissance

Summary:

To find is one thing. To retrieve is another.

Notes:

Written in response to JWP #31 (Just A Little Bit More) on Watson's Woes. A continuation of On The Scent.

Just A Little Bit More: Write an add-on scene to one of your own stories. This can be an addition to a previous entry you wrote for JWP. Please link the story to which you're adding on!

Work Text:

I don't like the look or the smell of this place one bit.

The room is full of smells, and none of them pleasant. But the stink of rotting timber, mildew, spoiled meat and cheap wine, however, is like a bouquet of flowers compared to the sickening mix of blood and pain and anger.

The doctor is moaning in his sleep, bound to a chair by the far wall. There is that metallic scent of copper again, coming from the ropes that entwine his wrists and ankles; they are smeared with his blood. Waves of anger and frustration are coming from our villain, a spindly stick of a human. He's pacing back and forth from the doctor to the dusty window. Every time he's near the doctor he nervously grips the knife he's holding, and every time he peers outside the window the stench of rage gets stronger. The chloroform smell is almost overpowering; the weakling coward must have needed much of it to subdue the heavier and stronger doctor.

He's muttering to himself, cursing a blue streak about the other half of the money he was promised for this "favor." He takes a swig of the wine, the overripe grape smell turning my stomach further.

I look to my partner as we conceal ourselves right outside the room. His eyes scan the scene before us, and I know he must be weighing our options like I am. While I've seen my comrade hold his own in a scrape, I'm no fighting dog. Besides, although we outnumber the enemy two to one, all this craven bastard would need to do to stop us is step behind his hostage and put that knife to the doctor's throat. We also dare not leave the house to summon reinforcements; we were lucky enough he didn't hear us coming in. And if his employer returns while we're gone, they might move the doctor to another location, or worse...

No, this has to end tonight. But how?

An idea strikes me. It's not the best idea I've ever had, I'm sure, but I can't think of any other way. Both of us rushing the man is too risky, but if I do it, that might be enough of a diversion...

I wish I could tell my colleague my scheme; the language barrier between us can be so damned frustrating! He's a smart human though; I'll just have to trust that he's smart enough to follow my lead.

Here goes nothing!