A/N: Sorry this took so long! I wan't happy with it for a while, and then had some trouble with my Docs. Still getting used to it. :/ Hopefully this will be easier to read thanks to johnsarmylady who was very kind and found the time to beta this story. I hope you enjoy it!
John pressed speakerphone as ordered, as Lestrade's phone rang. The leader of the gang was watching him carefully.
"Detective Inspector Lestrade." He answered casually.
John glanced at the man.
"I-um, listen. . ."
"Is that you, John?" the Detective Inspector asked.
The man's eyes widened on hearing this, but didn't make a sound.
"Yes. I need you to listen, and I need you to not interrupt me." said John.
"What's going on? Where are you?" asked Lestrade, his voice sounding concerned.
John looked toward his captor for instruction.
"We have everyone at Bart's held hostage." whispered the man to him.
"There are men here, at Barts. They have us all hostage. . ." began John.
Still whispering, the leader added "Money and other valuables a hospital has to offer."
"They want money. . . and drugs." said John.
"What are you – John, how many are there?" he asked.
The leader shook his head at John.
"I can't tell you. They want you to meet their needs." said John, his voice voice was starting to waver slightly.
The man mouthed. "One person per hour."
"Every hour, one person dies." John repeated into the phone. On command, John hung up. The other two men grabbed his wrists and bound them behind his back, gagged him, and shoved him against the wall with the other captives.
John hung his head and tried to control his breathing.
How would Sherlock get out? He was just as trapped as he himself was. There were lots of people down there. Did the men even know there was a morgue? Surely they did. This was all so confusing.
He looked at all the people lined up along the walls and for a moment thought of his days in the military, seeing things like this all the time. But this was different; these were civilians, not enemy soldiers. They were men, women, and children. John leaned his head against the wall and prayed that Sherlock had a plan. What was he thinking? Sherlock always had a plan. John tried to hang onto this little hope as he waited for the police.
Police sirens could be heard soon. John's head snapped up. He could see the lights flashing through the glass doors.
It was just beginning.
The leader walked over and grabbed a young woman by the arm and yanked her up. She was whimpering loudly, but it was muffled by the gag. He walked over to the door, a gun pointed at her side.
One other man pulled Johns gag down sharply and pulled him up, following the leader to the glass doors.
John saw many police cars scattered out before the hospital, including a special armed response team wielding their guns behind their vehicles.
Lestrade was among them, John saw. He was looking directly at him, shock on his features. It was a lot different to the kind he when faced with Sherlock's rapid-fire deductions. John just lowered his gaze.
The leader looked at him.
"Tell them we will kill her unless we get seven hundred pounds within the next hour." he growled. John swallowed.
A man released his hands and shoved the phone into them, the number already dialled. Lestrade picked it up immediately.
"What do they say, John?" he asked.
"Seven hundred pounds, they want it within the next hour, or this woman gets shot, Greg." said John, allowing himself to sound scared.
"Okay, okay, will he let me talk to him?" asked Lestrade, sounding a bit nervous. The leader made a slashing motion across his throat and John hung up. John saw Lestrade swear in frustration, kicking a car tyre.
John was shoved into a corner a few feet behind them, guarded by three of the men. John strained to see out the doors.
Lestrade was on his phone again, He leaned leaning against the wall.
It was a terrible feeling, to know that there is nothing you can do about a situation, like a fish on a line. It was a feeling of utter hopelessness. Sherlock will have a plan, he John told himself, Sherlock had never failed him, ever. It was all John he could do just to stay composed.
A moment later, everyone jumped in surprise as the phone started ringing. The leader paused, thinking rapidly. The men grabbed John by the collar and pulled him up once more. He took the phone and held it to his ear.
"Yes?"
"John?"
"Sher…..I…. what do you want?"
"John, listen, you need to scare them, make their situation look hopeless. Lestrade will do his part. Never look scared, look troubled. This is most important: don't make them angry, they'll kill you." He said quickly.
John blinked.
"But no pressure?" he said weakly.
Sherlock sighed, sounding stressed. The leader cupped a hand at his ear. John had no choice. He turned on speakerphone.
"Sherlock, I'll do what I have to, nothing more." He said. The leader looked very angry at this.
"John! Listen! You know that I-"
The Leader grabbed the phone and hurled it to the ground, and it broke. He turned on John, his gun coming down hard on John's head.