"You can't be allowed to continue. You just can't. I would try to convince you but everything I have to say has already crossed your mind."
Sherlock turned his body, eyeing the snake of a man who in turn evilly smirked with a gleam in his eye.
Looking at the bewildered John, who was his main priority Sherlock tightened his grip on the gun. An understanding flashed between the two friends and Sherlock knew that Moriarty had to be stopped no matter the cost.
"Probably my answer has crossed yours." Sherlock said as he raised the gun to Moriarty. A wave of anger washed over Sherlock as he exchanged glances with his nemesis who was smiling back at him as if daring the detective to actually shoot him. Sherlock lowered the gun to the explosives looking back up at Moriartys expression.
Moriarty had to admit he was impressed with the choice of maneuver Sherlock used against him. The criminal, however internally blanched thinking of how selfless Sherlock was being. Sherlock had such a great mind why did he waste it on the likes of John Watson, who was cowering in the corner never taking his eyes off of Sherlock who was playing the hero.
John glanced at Moriarty, who had his hands in his pockets as if he was going for a stroll.
John turned back to his friend whose only movement was his grip on the gun, everything else about him resembled a statue.
Breathing deeply John braced himself for the worst, knowing it was about to come as soon as Sherlock pulled the trigger and blew the tension filled place in the sky.
The silence was broken by the Bee Gees Staying Alive.
Sherlocks steely gaze was ripped from his nemesis as he looked around wondering where the music was coming from. Slightly fazed John looked around and made eye contact with Sherlock as they shared confusion over the song.
Looking back to Moriarty they noticed him looking almost annoyed with the situation. As if they were friends Moriarty asked if Sherlock would mind if he took it.
Bemused Sherlock responded, "Oh no please, you've got the rest of your life."
Moriarty pulled out the phone and looked at the caller id. The face he made resembled one a teenager would make seeing their mom calling them while out with friends.
He took it and asked what they wanted, looking over to Sherlock apologizing.
John couldn't believe it and kept blinking to see if the sight before him was real.
After listening to the conversation for a while he changed his grumpy demeanor to a deadly rage.
"Say that again! Say that again and know that if you are lying I will skin you." After a brief pause and much confusion on Sherlock and Johns behalf, Moriarty said all right and put the phone down.
"Sorry, wrong day to die." He said taking a threatening step forward.
Sherlock, wondering who that could have been on the phone, piped up "Did you get a better offer?"
"You will be hearing from me Sherlock." Moriarty said going back to the mysterious caller on the phone walking out of the darkened pool.
"If what you're saying is true, then I will make you very rich. If you are lying I will skin you and make you into shoes." With that he snapped his fingers and the red dots were gone.
Somewhere in Moscow, Russia a terrified man dressed in a suit was tied to a chair pleading for his life to the woman in front of him.
"Did you tell him?" The woman asked in perfect Russian.
The crying man nodded. "I told him that you were alive and where to find you. You can kill me if you want, but Moriarty is the only man who can bring an end to your tyranny. He knows you are alive and he is going to bring you down." The man said, gathering up his last strength of courage.
The woman approached the man and placed a gentle hand on his face. "My dear confused man, you have just made the biggest mistake of your life." With that, she kissed him on the forehead telling him sorry and stood up.
She removed a match from her jewel-studded clutch and struck it on the box. One of her henchmen doused the crying Russian in lighter fluid as he screamed and pleaded.
"Ready the car Dimitri, it looks like I am returning to London."
The man who poured the fluid on the crying man nodded his head and left.
"You know there is a special place reserved for you in hell!" He shouted.
"Yes there is. It's called the throne." She said as she tossed the match on the man who quickly lit up in flames.
She turned around and strutted out of the doors, her Louis Vuitton clicking on the floor as she hummed along to the agonizing cries of her newest victim.