Okay, guys, this is my first Sherlock story. I've had this idea running about my head for the last few days, and it wouldn't leave until I'd written it down. There will be some Sherlock/John later on, and maybe even some Mystrade, so if that's not your cup of tea you might want to just skip on by. Also, this story has not been Brit-picked, so please just ignore any mistakes you find. Or point them out and let me know how to fix them. Hope you enjoy!
He sat back as he waited for his target to come into view. It wouldn't be long now, any second she would walk around that corner and he would be free to take his shot and leave. He had been sitting at this window for the last six hours, waiting for her to come home so he could finish his job and leave. It wasn't safe for him to remain in one place for so long, not with the police already out looking for him and his crew. He only hoped that Mycroft had a plan to throw the suspicion off of them befo-
His musings came to a halt as the woman came into view. He lined up the shot, waited for the moment when she was out of sight of her husband, and took the shot. There, it was done, a single shot to the head and she was no longer capable of blackmailing the politician she had recently slept with. She was dead, and the final payment would be coming in this afternoon. He smirked at the thought and began dismantling his rifle, careful to keep himself as quiet as possible. The job was over, it wouldn't do to get himself caught at this point, not when he was so close to finished. This was his least favorite part of the job, or maybe that was the waiting. He disliked having to wait for hours on end just to get one perfect shot. He was not a patient man by any means, and was more interested in hacking into government databases, or setting up a disguise to sneak into wherever he needed to be. It was a tricky job, that was for sure, and he understood why he had been the one called to complete it. He was the best, and when the police were so close to finding their way to the heart of their organization, only the best would do. He pulled out his phone and dialed Mycroft, letting him know that the job had been done, and another team could be sent in to make sure that he hadn't left any sign of his presence in the building he was only now exiting, rifle carefully loaded into the guitar case he now carried. It was almost amusing that with the right clothes and a guitar case he could pass as a struggling musician without anyone becoming suspicious. He moved the guitar case to his other hand so that he could press the phone up to his ear as it rang again. They had a code, he would ring once, hang up and ring back, signaling to Mycroft that it was about a job, and not just some random person calling.
"Has the job been completed, Sherlock?" Mycroft answered, immediately knowing who it was and after the amount of time that had passed, there was either a problem, or the job was done.
"Yes, sir. She's been taken care of, and with any luck her husband won't notice for a while. He was drunk when they came in, it's no wonder she had taken to sleeping with other men with all the drinking that he's been doing recently," he responded, putting the guitar case down for a moment so that he could hail a cab. It had started to rain, and he had no desire to get soaked walking the rest of the way to his car, nor did he want to carry the case the rest of the way in the rain. He heard Mycroft chuckle softly at his comment, but paid almost no attention to it as a cab pulled to a stop in front of him. Climbing in, he gave the driver the address and went back to his conversation.
"Any sign of the police while you were waiting? Lestrade has been trying to put them off of our trail, but he says Detective Inspector Dimmock won't be swayed away from the case. They've gotten rather close, we'll have to bunker down for a bit and wait for it all to blow over again," Mycroft stated. He sounded annoyed, and Sherlock couldn't help but feel the same. Every so often this happened, one of their people would decide they weren't cut out for this business and would turn themselves over to the police, not able to give the names of who was running it, but able to give enough information that the entire organization would be shut down for a few weeks so that damage control could be done and they could get back to doing what they did best.
"No sign of them, dear brother, but I can assure you that they're most likely crawling over the area as we speak. Hopefully they've got Anderson working today, he couldn't find his way out of a paper bag with the bottom cut out. He's comple-"
"Hold on a moment, Sherlock, I've got another call coming in. From Lestrade," Mycroft said, putting his brother on hold and taking the other call.
"Sir?" He frowned as he he heard John Watson's voice come over the line, "I'm at the police station, Lestrade's lent me his phone for a moment to let you know what's happened."
Well, hopefully you've gotten a taste for my story and want to read more! Please feel free to leave me a review telling me what you think, or letting me know if I have some errors that need to be fixed. Until next chapter! -SM