This is my first Sherlock fanfic, so I hope you like it!
Disclaimer: I wish I owned Sherlock.
April 16th, 2013. 8:04 PM, Downtown London.
Mycroft Holmes sat alone in his office, a typed letter held within his shaking hands. The oak-paneled walls of the office shined with light reflected from the fire, which sent dark shadows stretching across the rich, red carpet.
Mycroft had just reread the letter for the umpteenth time. It had been sent to him a few days ago, but he had only just now opened it. The first time he read it, he couldn't believe it. So he read it a second time. Then a third. Again and again he had read it, but now he had finally snapped himself out of his daze and started to think about what to do. Yet he couldn't think of anything concrete at the moment.
His eyes drifted to the letter, which read:
Mycroft,
I'm hurrying to write this, so I'll make it quick.
I'm sure you've heard of the Trinity Syndicate and what they've done in the past. Their current ambitions dwarf those exploits. The British government is entwined in a danger that I am not sure is stoppable.
As I am sure you know, there are people like you and your brother. People of above average intelligence who can tell many things about a person in an instant. I have obtained a list of people, which includes these people and a few others, that are to be killed. For once I regret my own intelligence, as my name was included.
Also, this plot greatly involves your brother, specifically the manipulation of him. As I assume you will be surprised to know, he is not dead. I do not know how he survived his fall from St. Bartholomew's Hospital, but I have seen him alive. I have not spoken to him, for I doubt that he would take kindly to my appearance.
I can't afford to show my face, so if you can find me, then I might give you more information. If you can't, then this letter is all you have to go on.
Just one more piece of advice: Beware the 23rd.
I'll be watching
The Shadow
The Trinity Syndicate was a familiar name to Mycroft. It might have been less known than some other crime organizations, but it was just as deadly, if not more.
Mycroft had known about the existence of other people with superior intelligence, but he had never met anyone of the sort, excluding his brother.
When he read the paragraph about his brother, he felt both relief and anger. He was glad that his little brother was alive, but furious because his brother had supposedly killed himself without a word to his brother.
Lastly, the sender. The Shadow was a lethal assassin, a master of his craft, who worked for the Trinity. No one had ever heard his's voice or gotten a good look at him without getting killed. He could blend into any crowd and slipped through the darkness, quieter than a mouse, before killing his victims. That was where he got his name. The only known things about the Shadow were that he was six feet tall and blonde. It puzzled Mycroft as to why he would suddenly turn on the Trinity after working for them for so long.
So, as the hours passed, Mycroft sat alone in his office, pondering the letter. In fact, he was so preoccupied by the letter that he didn't notice that a gun was pointed at him until a bullet pierced his skull.
And it ends with a cliffhanger. Until next time!
~Haymitch-The-Hobo