Ok, thia is my FIRST fanfic so try and be nice, I intend for it to be 2 chapters and quite simple, it only exsists to relieve stress of exams. Uh my head hurts, please don't bash my brains in. and please leave your oppinion. Disclaimers: I earn nothing (But happiness and less stress) from this and all characters are BBC and Stefan Mofat (is that how you spell his name? I can never remember.) Please, If you find anything I need to change or any suggestions PLEASE respond!
The chase as always ran along the lines of case, crime scene, Baker street to think, run through London looking for 'who done it'. This time was different it was case, crime scene, Baker street to think, run round London -mainly warehouses - to find a gang 'who done it'. They'd killed the man because he was going to inform the police of the gang's class-A drug smuggling according to Sherlock.
Sherlock was in the rafters area, Lestrade en-route, John wondering amongst the cargo and the gang in different positions around the room; everyone was armed with various guns, flick knives and other harmful weapons. These men had no qualms about killing, in fact they intend to. As John had walked round a large, wooden crate a man grabbed him from behind and promptly rests a gun at the base of his head and wraps an arm round his throat.
" Not a word." The gangster hisses then shouts to the rafters "Mister Homes, I think we should make an agreement!". At which point Lestrade and Donovan walk in warily, guns up and loaded, they train their guns on the man holding John.
"Let him go and drop your weapon, this is the police!" Lestrade yells as Sherlock is pelting it down the stairs, the gangster looks panicked and tightens his hold on John at Lestrade's order.
"No! Listen to me, it wasn't my fault! They made me kill him, I had to!" the man screams at the police, pulling John back to get away from the police with uneasy shifting from foot to foot.
John's calm voice of reason inserts itself into the rabble. "Could you please calm down, let's talk."
The man holding John captive bursts into sobs, then a shot is fired from somewhere to the right, All -most on instinct or training- hit the floor, only three people get up.
Yeah, cliff hanger, I couldn't resist. The pic this fic is based on is: .com/#/d4w4egs NOT MY WORK Ok?