Disclaimer: I don't own nothing. Everything belongs to other people: Sherlock to the BBC and the amazing Gatiss and Moffat. The Fic title is from Jay-Z's Run this town, the chapter title from Sting's Englishman in New York. I'm not making any profit, so please, don't sue me.

I hope you like this story. None of my Sherlock stories has got a lot of reviews, but, oh well, maybe this one will. Apparently you just have to hurt a character to get people to read your story, so I'm optimistic :). Please enjoy. The story has not been beta'ed, so any mistakes are mine.

Chapter One: A gentlemen will walk but never run

Jim Moriarty had always known that Mycroft Holmes would come for him one day. From the moment on he had sent the text to him, letting him know that he knew about the Boeing, he felt his time ticking. Of course, Mycroft didn't strike immediately. But Jim was prepared. He had done what needed to be done so that his empire could survive a few weeks without him. Sebastian was left in charge. Jim had told him that he felt exhausted, and would like a vacation. He would decide spontaneously when to leave, so Sebastian shouldn't be worried when Jim didn't get in touch for some time. He didn't know whether Sebastian believed him, but, as usual, he had only nodded and assured him everything would be fine, and he should enjoy his time off. Bless Sebastian.

So, Jim was not unprepared when he saw the men appearing next to him. He was walking through the City of Westminster, watching the tourists as they took pictures of Big Ben. Of course he had noticed the car following him for about ten minutes. For a second, he had contemplated whether he should try and make an escape towards Chinatown, where people knew him and would hide him. But he had decided against it. Under no circumstances should they think he was afraid of them, even if it would have been fun to disappear right under their noses. So, when he noticed the men, he remained still, pretending he was admiring Big Ben.

One of the men paused next to him, "Beautiful, isn't it?"

"Oh yes. Especially at night."

"I've never seen it at night." The man, almost 7 feet tall, murmured, "I strongly recommend that you come with me right now. We have a car waiting for you."

Jim smirked, "And what if I don't? You're going to shoot me here, right in the middle of the crowd?"

The man only chuckled, "I would, but I have instructions to capture you alive. But alive is a wide term these days."

"It is, I'm sure. Well, I guess I might as well come with you and spare you the trouble of having to explain to the tourists why you're hurting an innocent man in public." Jim gave Big Ben a last glance. 12: 32 P.M. The eleventh of January. He grinned. It had taken Mycroft ten days to get everything organized after Jim had texted him. He was getting slow. "A nice trip to the countryside can't hurt."

"I have to tell you though your hotel room won't be as comfortable as the suite in the Ritz." He opened the car door. "After you, sir." Jim sat down on the backseat, next to a man who already now looked like he meant business. Both of his captors would even make Sebastian look tiny in comparison. The first man sat down on his other side. "I apologize for the inconvenience, but you understand that we cannot let you see where we are taking you, Mr Moriarty."

"Of course." Jim, with slow motions, brought his hands up to the collar of his coat and bared his neck. "Please make sure though you don't make too much of a mess with my suit. It's a pain in the arse to get them tailored." He felt the sting of the needle on his neck and a burning sensation as the liquid in the syringe was entering his body. The effects were immediate: slowly the world before him went black. The last thing he felt were the strong hands of his captor holding him in an upright position before he blackened out.

So, likey so far? I'm very open to suggestions; if there's anything you would love to see our beloved Jim go through, drop me a review or a PN. CC is always welcome.