"Are you really bloody certain about getting into bed with this Addler woman, Sherlock? I swear I will not be there to pull your arse out of the fire if this goes tits up. She's bad Sherlock. The Yard has a mile long hard on for this one."
The slender dark haired man blew out acrid smoke from his cigarette and looked at John.
"Don't make idle threats, John," He said calmly. "You know very well that you are committed to 221. To me." Sherlock seemed to fit the dimly lit rather dusty flat. His slender frame molded to the chair he had his leg's crossed in.
"Oh bugger all!: John's face contorted in his displeasure. Then he just let his head rest in his hands exhausted. "Sherlock this is risky business. We got a good thing going now. There must be another way. I don't trust this Irene woman. It smells wrong, mate."
"And what exactly do you propose I do, John?" The question was flat and inflectionless. Smoke circled Sherlock as he dared his flatmate to answer. It was one of the tall man's most irritating qualities. One of the ones that kept John on the very edge of walking out of the ugly flat and telling him to fuck off ad infinitum.
"I don't KNOW! I don't think.."
"EXACTLY! YOU DON'T think. You don't fucking think obviously. We need her. Expansion, John, I'm talking about potential for growth you shortsighted, idiot." He took another drag on the cigarette sitting back in his chair calming himself. John always knew how to rouse him. It was a most irritating quality. "Are you sure your problem with me getting into bed with this Addler woman, isn't that it might involve me … getting into bed with this Addler Woman?"
"Oh, Don't think so bloody highly of yourself, you sodding self centered bastard. If your want to shake hands with a glorified whore. Then see if I care." It was then that John left the stifling flat. Sherlock looked at the cigarette and stubbed it out. What was wrong with him, he had bloody well quit. He could not blame John for his reaction. Irene Addler was well known underground. Far more well known than was smart business to work with. Infamy came with risk, The Woman as she was known had a finger in a lot of metaphorical pies. Human Trafficking, Prostitution, and Smuggling were all listed in her resume. Their … business ventures had often bumped heads now it was time to see if they could help each other and lessen the damage that head bumping caused.
Irene sat in the rather chic little bar absently swinging her red stiletto clad foot. It was not what she was expecting. She looked up as she heard the tap of a cane on the floor and the chair move. He placed a mobile on the table.
"Ms, Addler."
"Mr. Holmes. I can't say that you were what I was envisioning."
"Quite." He said. He scanned Irene she was what most would call beautiful. Not pretty There was something predatory about her. Something hard about her eyes and mouth. He could not quite tell if it irritated him. She covered it well though. She sofetend it with the lipstick. She put a muffler on the growl that she seemed to resonate with her smile. "Now tell me why I should entertain this ludicrous offer. You represent a substantial risk to my business, don't you Ms. Addler? Tell me the benefits."
"Oh it's quite simple, Mr. Holmes. Mutual benefit. Our... our work has crossed paths before and it seems fortuitous for us to work together. In simple terms the benefit is profit. A lot of profit."
"Fortuitous to whom? Profit for whom?" He raised and eyebrow and looked at Irene, "Stop being coy Ms. Addler." The short brunette man waved a waiter away. This place didn't have anything for him. And he didn't like how closely the waiter was to them. Nosy bastard. At least the place was mostly empty.
"Oh, but Mr. Holmes playing coy is what I do best. Every man appreciates a tease."
"I assure you I certainly do not," He said narrowing his eyes. "Get on with it or consider this negotiation over."
"Very well." Irene actually looked disappointed. A little sad frown on her face. "Way to kill the mood. You have an overwhelming abundance of something I need. I have a variety of useful contacts and an abundance of things you need and there is much money to be made if we stop getting in each others way. This sounds like smart businesses." Irene's smile was bright and she offered Mycroft a cigarette. He nodded and took it. He pulled a gold lighter from his pocket.
"And what exactly is it we have that you need?" He exhaled smoke and looked at Irene again this time a little less absently. She had his attention now. Good.
"Guns," Mr holmes. "Guns and drugs. I have heard tell that you have the single greatest local supply of both." Mycroft took a drag on the cigarette and tapped his fingers on the head of the cane across his lap.
"And what do you have that I need? This is no a one sided relationship is it?"
Irene laughed curling her red painted lips. "Oh you would be surprised by how often they are, Mr. Holmes. "I have a few very lucrative contacts among the Bobby boys. As well as a completely untapped market of buyers for all of your current shall we say imports. Now don't you think it's time I met the real Mr. Holmes?" Mycroft grinned and hit the speaker button on the phone on the table.
"Clever girl," Sherlock said. "Bring her Mycroft." Mycroft stubbed the cigarette out in the ashtray on the table. And ended the call. The ride was quiet and almost comfortable in the sleek luxury car. The city outside the tinted window changed as the drive continued townhouses and shops gave way to the riverside and old warehouses. Using the shining head of his cane he tapped on the dividing glass and the black. Sedan slowed to a stop across from a large storage unit.
"Welcome to 221," Mycroft said as he stepped out of the car. The elder Holmes opened the heavy door and the couple saw Sherlock sitting at a table weighing a pile of snowy powder. He turned raising an eyebrow at Irene.
"Ms. Addler," he said. He snapped his finger and the young man dusted the powder into a bag. Several young people we're dividing up the powder.
"Mr. Holmes." She said nodding.
"Pure. I cut it and weigh it myself. I don't ship anything I don't trust." He dusted a small pile of the powder onto his hand and snorted it. He shook his head and nodded. "It's good boys. Ship it." Mycroft curled his lip in disgust. His younger brother rolled his eyes and he held out a hand to Irene as he stood. Irene shook his hand.
"You are quite a character, Mr Holmes. And you are running quite a complex organization. I want to help."
"Wrong. You, Ms. Addler you want to gain. Do not lie to me." Sherlock ran a hand through his thick dark hair. "You aren't doing this to help me or 221. You are doing this to make money and connections. I know that."
"Clever boy. What do you need, Mr. Holmes?"
"I need the coppers to not be cocking up my business. I have a very good deal in the works. Largest supply I have ever personally handled. Shall we call it diversifying. Higher quantities, greater purity, new products."
"Excellent." Irene said. She had to admit everything seemed quite efficient with the work she saw in the warehouse. The scurrying men dividing the cocaine were fast and surprisingly cared for looking. Clean and focused. No shaking. No coughing. Far better than she had expected. "I have someone you should talk to. I'm pretty sure he has heard of you."
"I should certainly hope not," Sherlock said. "Wouldn't you agree, Mycroft."
"I can Assure it," Mycroft said. "It would represent a rather sad breach of 221 security. The sort of thing I do not allow. Who is he?"
"Detective Chief Inspector Lestrade. A very good friend of mine actually. And someone who can be an even better friend to you, Mr. Holmes. That is if you let him."
"Mycroft?" Sherlock asked turning his rather dilated eyes towards his older brother. Already the phone was in his hand. Mycroft whistled as he scrolled down the screen.
"Nauhty boy he is. Yes," the elder Holmes said. "A few strikes against his personnel file. Abuse of force. A few suspicious rumors concerning his time in the homicide department. Currently holding steady and keeping a low profile in the Special Circumstances Devision. I'm assuming that is where you met him. Ms. Addler." Irene nodded no use hiding it they knew what she did.
"Shall I put you in contact?"
"No need. We'll contact him and you on our terms. Ms. Addler," Mycroft replied. "I'm thinking that will be all for now. How about you Brother Mine?"
"Quite. Get out we have work to do." Irene did not react to the rudeness. It was to be expected. They were silly little men doing silly little men things. It was no worse than what she saw on nearly a daily basis. She could easily show herself out. No harm done just mild annoyance that she would soon forget under the flood of income.
"I understand gentlemen but before I scurry off and leave you boys to your.. work I need to know how we are to handle this flood of new income nad inventory. This is a risk for me as well."
"That is my job, Ms. Addler and you need not worry." Mycroft looked up from his phone as he leaned heavily on his cane his leg's crossed. "My Contacts are varied and skilled. And you do not need to be aware of them. One of the things you will need to know working with 221 is to keep your mouth shut and to not ask too many questions. Am I understood? That is why we do not have the problems you have."
"Very well. I look forward to this, Good evening Gentlemen."
"Good evening," Sherlock said. "And welcome to 221, Ms. Addler."
Irene sank into the soft cushion of her own car. "Home, Jessica," She said."
"Course, Ma'am." Irene greatly liked Jessica. Sweet. Simple minded obedient Jessica. By far her best girl. The one she kept warm and cozy in her own bed. "Thank you for following Jessica. I didn't know they would be taking me so far out." Irene reached into her handbag and pulled out her phone. She tapped her foot as it rang. "Oh answer damn you," She said.
"What!?" The deep raspy voice hissed into the phone. "I told you not to call this bloody number you stupid bitch."
"Oh shut your mouth you arrogant pig," Irene hissed into the phone. "I am about to hand you the wieght of your oversized ego in pounds. If you pull you head out of your arse and listen for a minute you'd learn something, Lestrade."
"Fair enough. I'd like ot remind you to watch your tongue when you're talking to me, Addler."
"Please." Irene scoffed. She might have to make nice with Holmes but she had little patience right now for Greg and his posturing. Well honestly she never had patience for the stupid drunken bastard … but he was far to useful to cut. "I'm cutting a very very lucrative deal and I need you in on it."
"Same as always Irene 30 percent. No negotiations. What do you need."
"Just information, Lestrade. I need to know what your people in the yard know. That's all some big business is going down for a good while and I need your people focused elsewhere. Misderection as it were. And if you drop your price to say twenty percent I won't charge you at the door. Think about it Greg. Absolutely free." The mobile clicked as Lestrade ended the connection and Irene rolled her eyes. Such an exasperating man. Then she closed her eyes and just let the quiet and the motion of the car sooth her. She'd had enough of work for the day time for play. She had plans for her lovely Jessica. Delightful dirty deviant plans. Now all she had to do was wait.
"Sherlock what have I told you about this shit?"
"Oh Come of it, Mycroft. That was barely a taste. Got to test the stuff. Only reason business is so good is because I know the product."
"Well I'm sure. I don't need to remind you of your problems do I? Of what I said?" Mycroft lit a cigarette with his gold lighter leaning against the wall of the spacious storage unit. Sherlock watched his older brother the heavy lean on the cane as he puffed smoke.
"No the gash in the side of my head is quite the reminder. Surprised you got that damn thing clean."
"What? It's my job to knock sense into that bloody thick head of yours."
"Not with the blunt end of a steel tipped cane. I think I rather like our new friend."
"You would. I can't imagine it went over well with the smart one." Sherlock laughed a sharp barking sound. "John?" He'll get over it. He doesn't stay mad at me for long."
"Well brother mine. I'll call my Colombian friends tomorrow. And I'll be having a good look at this Lestrade bloke. I don't quite like the business of this woman. Far too much paper work and noise."
"Oh come now I have to keep your job interesting. You'd die of boredom at Buckingham any other way."
"So True Brother Mine. So true." Mycroft exhaled smoke and then stubbed the cigarette out on the cement floor. "221 is expanding." The rage on Irene's face made it look beastly. Her hand slammed across the already bruised face. Her heavy ring cut into the girl's skin. Irene shared at the blood staining her hand.
"Damned junky whore."Where the hell is he getting these girls? "Stop that bloody shaking," Irene hissed. "You'll get worse if you don't." Wide eyed and terrified the girl stared. She did not understand the angry woman who was hitting her. Glazed empty eyes stared up at Irene. She sighed. Nothing she was worth nothing. Too many scars and too jittery. Rotted teeth and sallow sickly white skin from the meth most likely. Only thing that made her almost salvageable was that she was young. Young and skinny. Maybe twenty-one. "Ughh. Is everyone here a complete jackass." Irene said. Then Irene felt a soft tap at her shoulder. It was the curvaceous redhead Jessica when she looked over her shoulder.
"It's Holmes, Ma'am.
"Good took him long enough. Handle this Jessica and tell Richard I need to talk to him. This shit is unacceptable. He can't keep bringing me sick junkies I can't use. I am not running some ten dollar cunt operation. I need healthy girls. Not ... that." She said pointing at the girl on the floor. "Get her cleaned up. Might make a difference." Irene took the Mobile phone Jessica was holding.
"Mr. Holmes it certainly took a while too settle things didn't it?"
"Not at all," Mycroft said. "These delicate things can't be rushed. Haste makes mistakes. We don't want this to be a mistake, Addler." Mycroft leaned back in the plush leather chair of his private office. He momentarily wondered if Irene conducted business in such luxury. He sincerely doubted it. She was most likely much more akin to his little brother doing deals in dusty storehouses and ramshackle whorehouses. He worked at an antique mahogany desk in an office with a mural painted ceiling in Buckingham Palace. "We need to discuss quantity where would you like to meet?"
"The Silver Crown Hotel. I'll leave an executive pass for you at the desk. Take it to the penthouse floor." Irene ended the call and then she rather gracelessly flopped on the couch. She did not want ot get up and go to her desk and call the desk but she did. "Hello, front desk."
"Yes, Ma'am. A man will be arriving soon I need an Executive pass key set for him and the nescort him personally to the penthouse lift."
"Of Course, Madame Addler."
John scowled at Mycroft in the back of the car. It wasn't the first itme he had found himself unceremoniously shoved into one of Mycroft's vehicles. And he sis not like it any more this time. At least the ride was not unbearable long.
"I don't like this. I don't."
"You'll get over it, John" Sherlock assured him absently on his other side.
"Yeah when I'm stitching up your arse again when this all goes wrong and people start shooting. Or will I get over it whem I'm rotting under a prison cell. Why are we just going ot meet her in public."
Both Holmes men rolled their eyes.
"Why do you always pick the stupid ones. You have a thing Sherkock. Always damned thickheaded stupid ones. Listen, boy," Mycroft said. "Nothing says shady, illegal, most likely treasonous shit like a group of people skulking around in secret. We're just going to a very legitimate business meeting with a successful hotel owner with a tragic past."
"Clearly Sherlock replied. And it was one time John. And it was that fat bastards fault."
"We do have the same parent's, brother dear, no matter how much it pains me to admit it." Before the bickering brothers could drive John any more insane the car pulled to a stop. The place was nice. Not extravagant exactly but nice. Perhaps second tier Mycroft thought. The lobby was clean and well lit. Modern, and very chic. Paler wood and more neutral colors catering to young wealth. Not the stifling fussy opulence of old nobility. Sleek leather sofas held a few piddling visitors on laptops. A few bar patrons drank off the lobby entrance. Mycroft's cane tapped on the wood floor as the trio crossed to the desk. "I believe there is an executive pass for me. The owner is expecting us for a meeting."
"Yes, gentlemen, you're the investors. Of course this card will get you into the private penthouse life. Jessica our head of staff will be escorting you from there. Good evening." John and Sherlock followed Mycroft into the lift and the new businessmen ventures. Their first meeting had been testing. Foreplay now it was time to has numbers and talk specifics. It was time to merger.