"Agent Nicole Miel" a voice called from the dark room. The fireplace in the cozy mansion parlor highlighted the aging face of Mycroft Holmes. His posh calm face was soiled by the scowl of disdain. "Please come forward and have a seat." I moved silently from the doorway and sat in the ornate red and gold chair across from the slender man. "As you know, you have been brought from America for a classified mission."

"Yes, sir."

"Good, this is the file with everything you need to know." He handed me a large manila folder with an address typed neatly in the corner. "Your mission is to guard the person of interest until further notice. You start immediately"

The heavy parcel in my hand was filled to capacity with papers and newspaper clippings spilling from the side. The rubber band binding it together was pale from overextension. This man must be very busy with a folder this large.

"If I may, sir." I asked courteously and he nodded his consent, "Whom must I watch out for? Gangs? Hit men?"

"The threat could be anyone. Not many people call him friend, but he has made many his enemy. You will see he has certain traits that many find unnerving and annoying. You must keep a level head with him, Agent Miel because if you have a tick, he will find it." Mr. Holmes's thin fingers laced in front of his face creating a dramatic foreboding shadow along his hollowed face. "He has no regard for social standard or emotion. He is egotistical, arrogant, and a masochist who will use anything and anyone to prove his intellect."

My brow furrowed in thought. What man could be so horrible that the government wanted to protect instead of terminate? Why did England hire an American female agent to protect this man, when there were stronger, fiercer individuals within Scotland Yard? I didn't doubt my capabilities but paying for a ticket from America to England and the costs of accommodation were not cheap. My intuition knew they were suppressing information and it bothered my thought process, but the government is always shrouded in secrecy so an explanation was not likely. I stared at the thickly bound manila folder in my hands, and looked into Mr. Holmes's steel eyes.

"Who is this man?"

A small smirk flitted across Mycroft's long face as he leaned into his hands. His legs crossed and with a small sense of pride he calmly said

"My brother."