Mina weaved through the streets with practiced ease. It was only when she had passed well and truly into the limply beating heart of the East End that she thought to check if the Captain was still keeping pace with her.

Glancing over her shoulder, she spotted him paused at the entrance of the alleyway with soot smeared along the side of his face. She doubted it would aid the wound he had sustained from the fight, however it did give him a street-worthy air that the elite Spanish Guard would have been shocked at. If he was exhausted by their dash through town he did not show it, which was either a testament to his endurance or his stubborn will to refute defeat. Mina thought it was the latter. She offered him a quick nod before racing once more down lane.

It had been a while since she had worked in the area and the stench of the refuse laying plainly in the streets reminded her of one of the many reasons why she had left. There were certainly no treacle tarts to be found here. She dashed between the tightly packed buildings crammed with poverty and filth which lent such a sense of foreboding that even the sun dared not enter the shadowed alleys. Her eyes darted from balcony to balcony, aware that danger lingered on every corner like Death waiting eagerly to welcome London's eastern citizens into his arms.

As she ran, Mina swatted at the grubby linens that hung from bridging lines above, shielding them from the grey oppressive skies reserved for only the impoverished. When she skidded at a dead end, she scrambled up a small wrought iron ladder leaning against the southern wall and disappeared into a cavity in the run-down building.

Mina heard Marco climb in behind her, the broken tiling crumbling under his girth, and waited for only a moment before wordlessly scurrying further into the tunnel towards the narrow shafts of light at the end. It lay shuttered closed by the unevenly boarded slats of shipping crates haphazardly nailed together which revealed neither lock, nor latch.

"Here, let me," Marco offered, moving to thrust his shoulder into the offending structure.

"Don't you dare!" Mina hissed, punching him in the shoulder for effect.

The Captain frowned and was about to inquire how she proposed to penetrate the sealed exit when Mina let loose a long howl. Marco's eyes widened drastically at her impression of a wolf baying at the full moon and Mina had to crack a smile.

It only took a moment before his questions were answered, as a sharp crow sounded from the other side of the door, as well as various other animals sounds not native to London. There was a brief scuffle and the slats were pulled away to reveal a small nest of unwashed miscreants settled in the cramped square between the building backs.

"Hey guys!" Mina yelled from above before sliding down a half tube like structure into the pit.

"Mina!" a petite street urchin with mousy brown hair called out, grasping her in a big warm hug when she reached the bottom. "What're you doin 'ere? I missed yer sorry face but, nice to see yer fillin' out there tho'," she eyed Mina's wide hips that accentuated her slight frame.

"Gee, thanks Emma," Mina huffed playfully.

"Yeah, didna 'spect to see you again. We got a bit worried." A young lad with a heavy coat, four sizes too large for him, piped up from the corner.

"If you ar 'ere for yer take then yer can sod righ' off!" another filthy urchin called from underneath a swaddle of worn blankets and old newspaper.

"Urgh," Mina huffed. "Keep yah shirt on, Antonia! I'm not 'ere for yer money."

Emma rolled her eyes at their familiar antics. "But seriously Mina, what do yer need? Yer not in troubler ar yer?"  

Mina grasped her old friend's hands quickly. "No, but I do need your help. I need to find Marm again? Wait, did you cut your hair?"

Emma's mouth hung open and a fly ventured inside, cleverly escaping before she spoke again. "You want to see Marm? You know she 'aint gonna be too pleased with yer. And nope, it got burnt off when some dodgie poncer made me dash up a chimney stack"

Mina nodded. "I know it's not the best idea but I gotta try. You still working with her crew?"

"Yeah," Emma confessed. "I left the Dodge not long ago. I'm back wit Marm , she treats us a'right. I mean, good enuf. Ya know... ya gotta do what's right for you. If somthin' ain't feel right then it probly ain't right."

Mina had to agree. Despite a lack of formal education, she rarely heard better sense than from her thieving friends.

Abruptly, Emma pulled her close and whispered secretively. "Listen, Mina, this 'aint bout what went on down near the G'rden the other week? When you got snitched by that tosser- I mean coppa!"

"She meant tosser!" Antonia yelled out

Minna immediately thought that was her first impression of Dra'gaan too.

Emma made a quick apologetic face. "You haven't gone square on us 'ave yer?"

"How do you know about that?" Mina asked quietly hoping the others didn't hear anything.

"We know you're chasing around with dem Bow Street bobbies. Em had us tail ya afta she saw ya wid that coppa bloke," the overcoat wearing child mentioned casually. "But I'm guessin' that's why ya still need us."

"Geez, you guys do know everything!" Mina exclaimed.

"Anything that's worth somethin' to someone." Emma smiled proudly with blackened teeth.

Marco determined that he had waited long enough and landed with a precise jump from the overhead shaft before straightening menacingly. Emma eyed him up and down, not buying into his costumed appearance. "Who's the stiff?" she asked blatantly.

Mina turned to glance at Marco standing rigid, like a practiced soldier and chuckled. "He needs our help."

"Does he now?" Antonia sat up straight, roving her eyes and thankfully not her hands all over the Captain.

"Yes, he does." Marco's voice reverberated deeply through the alcove. He glanced around at the dishevelled surroundings scattered with makeshift care. Burlap sacks lay strewn between various filthy rags and people just as filthy, who sat huddled around a small burning fire in an empty oil can.

He had of course seen the slums in Madrid as well as a number of other continents but had not taken the time to converse with the inmates. It often served as a source of cutthroat mercenaries and pickpockets but he had perhaps failed to note that they were also just people, trying to make their way in a difficult world. As he had hovered above awaiting the correct moment to descend, he had the time to appreciate the little world from which Mina no doubt had emerged. It was an interesting, eye-opening image and he once again found himself grateful to not be in his cousin's shoes. Crown Prince Alfonso XII was much better equipped to deal with the tenuous politics surrounding the division of wealth and power that choked too many countries.

Mina ignored the Captain glaring at her friends and continued with renewed haste. "Please, Em, if you know where Marm is, can you take me there now?"

"Course I can!" Emma piped up smiling again. "She's moved since you last worked for 'er. Doin' real well for 'erself."

"Really?!" Mina's face lit up with interest as she followed her friend.

The young boy draped in the heavy coat eyed Marco cautiously. Clearly Mina's protector, he stepped in between the trio as they exited up a ladder. "You there," he looked up superciliously at the Captain's dominating height before he could make it to the first rung. "Don't you dare try n' hurt our Mina, yer hear?!"

Marco stared down surprised at the look of loathing he was so often used to as a rake. The precocious boy couldn't be more than four and ten, but he wore the expression of a man who didn't like to be crossed. Marco smiled wryly, pondering Mina's constant scowls and tiny fists. "I rather think that Mina is more likely to injure me, don't you think?" he countered with a wink down at the lad.

"HURRY UP, CAP'N!" Mina screamed like a banshee as she disappeared over the rooftop.

The boy carefully considered the interaction before nodding sagely. "Yeah, I 'spose."

Marco contained his grin and followed the girls up and over the gutter, trying not to disturb the shingles as he saw them leap with ease between houses. They halted just above Whitechapel High Street which appeared to be a burgeoning centre for weaving, tailoring and textiles. The road was teeming with workers moving in considerable haste, carrying bolts of material still rough from the milling floor. Trolleys clattered over the cobblestones with precariously stacked ceramic tiles, destined for a final kiln and tufts of steam billowed up from unidentifiable grates in the road. Marco did not consider it an environment conducive to the lair of a thief.

"Just down 'ere." Emma called out before sliding down a slim pole that curled over the edge.

Mina and Marco followed suit and they landed right in front of a large old cotton mill with most of its windows boarded up. People swirled around them like ripples around reeds, ignoring anything that interrupted the flow of their work. Marco discreetly nursed the pistol he kept tucked at this back and drew comfort from the steel he also had strapped to his calf.

"You won't need yer gun, Sir," Emma warned. "Marm aint gonna take too kind if ya try to shoot her."

Mina frowned at him like an angry parent. "Alright Marco, it's about time I fill you in," she started whispering hastily. "This woman practically raised me. She took my thieving and made me save n' such. I mean, she took a cut of course, but she's gotta make a livin' too." Mina's accent went back and forth. "Now we need her to tell us where the assassin is, and you can bet your bonnet she knows."

Emma nodded out of the corner of his eye.

Marco sighed, expecting to meet a surly old woman in a slightly bigger hovel and beg for information that only thieves had. It was disconcerting that this was where the fate of Queen Victoria's alliance with Spain hung. He squared his shoulders and surveyed the busy street.

"How you suppose we get in?" he asked.

Emma frowned, "Well, the front door, silly!"

Mina rolled her eyes. "You don't sneak up on Marm, trust us."

"Fine," he surrendered to their superior knowledge of the supposed rules regarding honour amongst thieves. "But, what about those two over there?" He pointed at a pair of policeman patrolling near the façade of the building.

Mina and Emma chuckled but he could not find the source of their amusement.

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about them." Emma smiled. "Come on, now." She pulled at Mina's hand as they crossed the street.

Marco ducked his face behind an upturned collar as they passed the officials. The girls however, didn't even attempt subterfuge as they brazenly walked along and knocked at the factory door.

Mina slipped through the door, impatiently waiting for him to enter. "Hurry up, and for God's sake, stop looking so shifty. They work for her!"

He straightened immediately and wondered what was becoming of law enforcement in London. He pushed at the grubby door allowing it to swing shut behind him. Marco did not know exactly what he had expected, but it was certainly not the sight that awaited him in 'Marm's' inner sanctum.

A middle aged woman sat on a large dais at the end of a commodious chamber with gleaming wooden floorboards. She appeared to be taking tea on a plush settee with soft music playing from a young girl's violin in the corner. Marm was holding court with a number of official looking persons who sipped from delicate china as she spoke in a rough Prussian accent.

She was a woman of substantial girth squeezed into the finest of morning dresses a lady could afford. Perhaps 'afford' was the wrong choice of word, Marco mused. Marm's face did not offer any improvement on the masculine structure of her frame, but instead continued the harsh lines at odds with the rouge and powder that attempted to conceal them. Sharp, beady eyes as black and volatile as charcoal caught Marco's across the room and it was clear that her brilliance lay not in her beauty but in her keen and cunning mind.

She shifted her gaze back to her immediate guests while Marco was left to calculate that for a thieves guild there were a great many women present within its walls. A number of young girls, no greater than eighteen years of age, sat around in smaller groups knitting or reading. He gazed around at the elegant furniture and accoutrements that were more likely pilfered than purchased, before spotting a corridor just off the antechamber that seemed to lead to a connection of smaller rooms furnished with desks, chairs and paperwork neatly stacked in piles.

Emma stepped forward and was met by another young woman with surprisingly beautiful features in a clean, plain linen dress. The woman curtseyed politely to them before Emma bounded up to her. "Hey Joyce! Whatcha been up to? Look who I brought!!"

"Emmm," she complained laughing. "I'm working!" When she looked up however, her eyes caught Mina's and the two embraced like old friends.

"How are you?" Mina asked with more sincerity than a passing inquiry.

Joyce arranged a perfect smile on her face that hid a shy sadness. "I'm fine. Missed you... but fine. You never come to see us anymore."

"I know, I know," Mina apologised. "But what about Katie? Surely she visits."

Joyce made a face like she had just inhaled stale sewerage. "Katie who?"

Emma shook her head from side to side emphatically and Mina moved on hastily. "Oh, okay. Listen Joyce, I know this is a bit of a cheek but I really need to speak with Marm."

Joyce bit the inside of her cheek. "Why? Are you coming back to the gang?"

"Umm, no. Sorry Joyce," she hastened at the crestfallen look that graced her friend's features. "I just really need to speak to her and you of all people know that I wouldn't be making a social call after how I left things."

The petite girl with untapped beauty scrutinised them long and hard, particularly Marco, before nodding. "I will announce you." She spun around and crept up to the sturdy older woman with a hooked nose and a feather in her cap which matched her rather fancy day dress.

"Announce us?" Marco whispered. "Who does this woman think she is?"

"She is the Queen of Thieves. Now show some damn respect," Mina whispered out of the corner of her mouth. When Joyce issued a slight beckoning nod, Mina moved forward with downcast demure eyes that Marco didn't think was possible for her. He hastened to do the same, bowing low at the foot of the dais and waited.

"Approach," came the curt instruction.

Mina and the Captain stepped up to face the self-made queen.

"Mina," she began at which the maid dropped into a deep curtsy. "It has been much too long, my child. Come and tell me what you have been up to." She turned to pat the empty seat next to her.

Marco remained standing and he felt Marm's eyes on him like pinpricks.

"Gentlemen," she turned to the other men seated. "We shall continue this tomorrow. It is so rare that old friends come to visit."

The two guests rose obediently as the third man wearing an efficient brown suit reached forward to collect the documents from the table. "Please know Mrs Mandelbaum that we at Freshfields Bruckhaus Deringer will perform the task with utmost precision as always. The case will be over before it starts." The man bowed low before exiting and Marco's gaze followed his retreating form until it disappeared into the late morning light.

"You seem at odds, Sir," the older woman commented while sipping her tea which smelled remarkably more like brandy.

"It is nothing, Marm," Marco assured her.

"It is most certainly not nothing." She speared him once again with her shrewd eyes.

Mina almost imperceptibly shook her head from side to side, scolding him to be silent.

Marco ignored her and relented. "You have a lawyer, Marm."

"Oh that," the thieving queen relaxed back into the upholstery with a low, deep laugh. "I have the whole firm on retainer."

Marco stilled in shock.

Marm grinned with devious pleasure. "How else would I take care of my gang if they got caught?" She gestured for Marco to sit, seemingly done with him and turned her attention back to her ex-employee.

"Now, what can I do for you Mina- my most wayward of girls?"

"Naww, don't say that Marm. I just changed my mind about somethings and left to go and try out a different life." Mina scuffed her feet on the Persian rug beneath them.

"You left your home here for Dodger and that filthy crew that he runs like it was a nursery," her tone sounded less than impressed. "And now I hear that you are servantry in some stuffy Duke's house."

Mina nodded. "Yes, Marm."

"Have I taught you nothing, Mina? You were my prized pupil and now you are... this." She looked regretfully at the young maid.

Mina's brow furrowed at the inference that her choices in life were inadequate. Hmph, she huffed. You don't know me. You don't know my life! She was no longer a child and didn't wish to be treated as such. "Now I am what?" she asked brashly, clearly offended.

"Ah, there is that temper that I do not miss." Mrs Mandelbaum smiled slyly.

Marco thought it prudent to intervene and sat on the other chair across from Mina, to the left of the older woman. "Mina... perhaps," he began.

"Quiet," Mrs Mandelbaum ordered and her resonance momentarily silenced the whole room. "Mina has come here to ask something of me, and I am inclined to hear her."

Marco waited patiently as they spoke. Many years of protecting the Crown had taught him there was much to be gained by watching in silence over those who wished to talk. Keeping his ears keenly tuned to the conversation, he quietly surveyed the room for suitable exits. He perused the men who stood like guards, noting both weapons and obstacles as easily as battle formations, while Mina twisted her fingers anxiously.

"This isn't going as I planned," she admitted.

"Does it ever?" Mrs Mandelbaum asked rhetorically.

Mina pursed her lips to one side before turning to the Captain. "May I have the folder, please?"

Marco frowned deeply. "No."

"Come on," Mina encouraged. "Just the map and the description then?"

The Captain exhaled slowly as he watched the interest in the Marm's eyes. Under duress he handed Mina only the two pages as requested.

She laid the items on the table before the older woman. "There is a man who appears by this description and I think he may be in your area. I need to find him. He has been seen at all these locations and I thought, well maybe... you might, I mean you would know where he is."

The corners of Marm's eyes crinkled like used paper as she inspected the map. "Why?"

"Because you seem to know everything," Marco deduced easily.

Mrs Mandelbaum's lips tilted into a smile. It seemed flattery was not lost on her.

"As it happens, I am familiar with Pierre. But that is not the 'why' to which I was referring. Why should I help you?"

"You can help us?!" Mina bounced excitedly on the couch.

Mrs Mandelbaum threw her a patient look. "You knew I could before you came here. Use your wit, child, or whatever you have left that hasn't been sucked dry in the pantry you slave in." She sighed with deep seated regret. "You could have been great."

"I settled for being good." Mina smiled consolingly and patted the older woman's hand as if she was infirm and not one of the most calculating minds in London.

Mrs Mandelbaum snorted with derision and turned to the Captain. "It would seem that I should make my dealings with you."

Marco lips ghosted in a smile. "I'm afraid I am on the side of good too."

"And yet you sit in the belly of the beast." The woman's eyes gleamed. "I can recognise a man of power when I see one. So, what will you give me for the information I have. It seems quite valuable to you."

Mina gnawed at her lip and realised she gave away the game a little too early. It hadn't occurred to her that Marm would have asked for repayment, although in hindsight that assumption was fairly infantile.

Marco knew such trades could take many hours or days to negotiate. He had sat in enough meetings of the Queen's council to know that, and he did not care to waste any more time. "What is it you want, Marm?"

"So direct. Allow me to be just as frank." She leaned forward with the narrow eyes of a snake watching its next meal. "I want a favour from you, for I have come to realise that I hold you in the hollow of my hand."

"What is the favour?" Marco asked with what appeared to be unending tolerance.

"I have yet to decide that. Suffice to say that your agreement now will be enough to grant the location of the man you seek."

"So that you can turn on us the way you so willingly turn on him. Why did he seek you anyway Mrs Mandelbaum, or did you seek him?" Marco questioned, letting loose a tendril of power to coat his voice.

"They all seek me. But, before you ask, I did not consent to his demands. Instead, I favoured him with a warning and I offered him refuge for a fee."

Marco leashed his temper and coldly stated, "You will not find me so malleable. Tell me now what recompense you wish or have done with it."

"No! Please Marco-."

Marco was too late to cut off Mina's exclamation with a sharp spearing look.

"Marco?" Mrs Mandelbaum smiled with just a hint of crazy. "You are not by any chance Captain Marco, who I hear of so frequently at the docks?"

"My name is of no consequence to you." He moved to stand, his soldier's body tense with the strain of reigning in a fight.

A forced silence settled as they stared across tea cups, gauging the weight of each other.

"Alright," Mrs Mandelbaum eventually barked. "My price is safe passage."

"What?" Marco asked stunned.

"What?" Mina screeched.

Mrs Mandelbaum rose as if she was a lady and not a glorified pickpocket. "I cannot always remain here. I plan to go to the Americas, with a good deal of my gang if they wish to come." She strode around the table to face Marco squarely. "Your ship will take me there, Captain."

Marco's jaw clenched, the only sign he was infuriated.

"Umm, he's not that Marco," Mina babbled. "He's a different Marco. Totally different."

Marco gritted his teeth. "Thank you Mina. Your subterfuge is well meaning but a touch too late." He took a step closer to the large woman and whispered, "I could have any number of other ships at your disposable when you need it. You would be safe and secure on many other vessels too."

"No deal, Captain. It is your ship or nothing." She laughed.

"Why my ship?" he persisted.

"Because I value the ability to flaunt my alignment with the Captain of the Spanish Guard."

Marco noted the gleam in the thief's eyes and wondered if underneath all the trappings she was merely a social climber.

"I also value your ability to move unguarded through the East India Trading Company and transfer my goods without taxation or custom regulations," she continued with a satisfied smirk.

He sighed, seeing little way around it at the present moment. "I consent to your transportation when my business in London is complete."

Mrs Mandelbaum smiled gleefully and snapped her fingers. A beautiful fountain pen appeared immediately from a young girl at her side and she wrote in a graceless scrawl an address on the corner of the map.

Room 10

8 Dray Walk, London Borough of Tower Hamlets

She handed the pages to Mina, holding onto the edge firmly. "Are you certain you won't change your mind and join our group in a fresh new country to conquer?"

Mina shook her head in the negative.

"Pity." Mrs Mandelbaum announced and relinquished the sheets.

It seemed they were dismissed as Mrs Mandelbaum turned and strode off abruptly into the adjacent chamber without another word. Marco reflected that a thieves guild was still a thieves guild, no matter how many pretty furnishings it displayed and grabbed Mina's arm to pull her off the dias and out of range of the leftover tea and biscuits. He quickly ushered her out onto the street, leaving the curious knitting females, the guards, and the hidden rooms, with Emma and Joyce aghast inside.

***

Marco and Mina are hot on the trail of the assassin! Who do you think they will find?

If you enjoyed this look into Mina's old life please favour me with your vote or share the story with your friends! Remember voters and followers get hidden chapters to show my appreciation :) 

There will be a special mid-week interview with one of the characters which all voters and followers will gain access to. It should just pop up as an additional chapter but if you have already voted and followed and it still doesn't show up just throw me a msg and I will send you the url :)

[update: 29/6/16 - sorry dear voters! there seems to be a problem with opening the secret chapter url if not on a PC. If you still would like access > please just follow me and then refresh your library. All hidden chapters will be present from then on.]

In case you are interested, Mina's former gang leader was a real person>>

Frederika Mandelbaum, better known as Marm, set up shop in New York City sometime around 1864, and for 20 years she built up a reputable gang of thieves, pickpockets, and bandits. I imagined that even though she was born in Prussia, she spent some time in London, inducting Mina into her thieving ways.

Part of Mandelbaum's success was due to the way she treated her network of thieves. She stood by her own, and always kept a law firm on retainer for any of her gang who got caught. She was famous for handing out bribes to police and judges, encouraging them to look the other way. It's estimated that she and her gang handled merchandise that would today be worth somewhere .

Unlike most of the other street gangs, a large number of Mandelbaum's crew were women, like Joy, Emma and Mina. Mandelbaum herself thought highly of women who wanted to do something other than housework and even opened a school to train the next generation of female thieves and pickpockets. In addition to the school, she also owned a network of warehouses that she used to hold her stolen merchandise, and a three-story building where she ran a haberdashery and held large dinner parties for the upper crust of New York society (as in the image at the top. She is the rather masculine looking woman at the head of the table).

Freshfields Bruckhaus Deringer is also a real law firm that was founded in 1743. Today it is a multinational extremely elite law firm headquartered in London. Clearly they had no real dealings with Marm, most particularly because I have no wish to be sued.

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