Shock...
Ticking bombs, mixing languages and a slightly hysterical lab assistant...things just couldn't be getting any better for Sherlock Holmes
Warning: Tick...tick...BOOM
Disclaimer: I do not own the genius that is Sherlock Holmes
"Oh my God, I'm going to die." Molly whimpered.
"Will you please be quiet?" Sherlock asked as politely as he possibly could.
"But the bomb..." She said.
"Yes because I didn't realize there was a bomb there!" Sherlock said exasperatedly. "And by my calculations we still have two minutes...fifty two...no fifty one seconds."
"And what makes you say that?" She asked.
"Well the clock on the explosives gives some kind of hint." Sherlock snapped.
"We need to go." She said.
"Yes and the fact the door is locked would not be an impediment at all." Sherlock replied.
"How did you..." She asked.
"Why would Moriaty set off a bomb if we could just scamper away?" He said calmly before signalling to the door and said. "Go on try it."
Molly ran over to the door and attempted to pull the door handle down. It remained in its rigid position.
"It's locked." Molly called out. "Oh God...Oh GOD!"
"Shut up!" Sherlock groaned.
- :) -
Detective Inspector Lestrade ran into the hospital and straight into the annoucment centre. The bomb squad ran down the stairs. He caught his breath quickly before saying.
"Hello all this is Detective Inspector Lestrade of the London met police force." He said. "We have reason to believe that there is an explosive in the vicinity..."
The sounds of screams came from outside.
"Please evacuate the building immediately!" He said.
"RUN!" Was the loudest scream amongst the noise.
Lestrade ran out of the announcement room and made his way through the surge of panicking people. He pushed past with an air of authority which appeared to have no impact on the terrified masses. He felt himself being pushed towards the exit. He had to use all of his strength just to stay inside. He hoped the bomb squad didn't face the same problem.
- :) -
The bomb squad ran down the stairs and towards the door. The head of it- armed with a large riot shield and a helmet knocked through the door. There Sherlock was, standing bored with a terrified lab assistant clinging onto his neck. She was crying and the small amount of explosives were in the corner of the room.
"Finally..." Sherlock said with his eyes rolling.
BANG
- :) -
Sherlock Holmes stirred slightly...
He opened his eyes with precaution and found himself lying in a clinical environment...
He was in the hospital and as he looked down he noticed he was still in his blood stained clothes. Good...he hadn't been there long...or long enough for him to be changed into the standard hospital gown. That meant he had been there an hour at most. He looked down at his arm. He was attached to a heart monitor and a IV drip. Ripping both out, he walked cautiously over to the mirror...
He had ten stitches in his lip, and his right cheek had a large burn on it.
The sound of the heart machine sounded...
Three nurses, two of which were male, came running in. Sherlock looked at them all dully, and the tallest of them walked over to him. Funnily enough it was the female.
"Sir..." She said. "I must insist you get back to your bed."
"And why would I do that?" Sherlock asked.
"Because you're injured sir." She said. "And it's our duty at..."
"St Bartholomew's hospital to implement a certain level of care..." Sherlock said. "Yes, yes, yes I have heard this all before but the real question I want answering is what time is it?"
"What?" One of the men asked.
"What is the time? The position of the sun...the display on the microwave...the number of hours..." Sherlock said, his voice dripping with exasperation.
"It's ten, now Mr Holmes will you please get back to bed." The woman said.
"You're divorced aren't you?" Sherlock asked.
"What?" The woman said.
"There is a band on your ring finger which is clearly lighter than the rest of the finger though it appears you have attempted to crudely covered it up with foundation..." Sherlock said before adding. "Sorry no...powder."
"Will you please get back to your bed Sir?" She said, her voice slightly sterner.
"That marriage ended due to an infidelity, no other reason would be painful enough to wish to cover up the whole idea you have been married all together." Sherlock said. "From the band on your finger I can assume it wasn't you...unless your lover knew you were married. Someone whom you spent a lot of time with, maybe seen as a shoulder to cry on whilst your husband went on business trip...which implies you worked with in close proximity with..."
The male nurse on the left's pupils looked to the left.
"Maybe a fellow nurse?" Sherlock added.
"Get into your bed now before I call for the restraints." She snapped.
"Have I offended you?" Sherlock asked.
The male nurse on the right laughed.
"The doctor will be with you shortly." She snapped before storming out. The other two nurses followed her.
He had lost three hours...three whole hours in which he needed to examine and solve the next clue left by Moriaty's words. His words...his German words...
It all made sense...
Rache- the German word for revenge- something which Anderson had falsely presumed meant that Jennifer (the lady in pink) was of Germanic decent. That of course was wrong- as anything Anderson usually said was- and in fact turned out to be the name of her child whom she had lost years prior to the event and the password to her account...
And that word had first entered Sherlock's life when he went to examine her body, accompanied by John Watson for the very first time...the first time they really became a team...
Sherlock Holmes looked around the room. It was an exceptionally ordinary with a bed and a cupboard. Sherlock walked over to the cupboard and attempted to open it. It was locked- well of course it would be locked, otherwise some mental patient would get it. Fortunately for him- he was no mental patient...
- :) -
Sherlock Holmes walked out of the room in a full nurse's uniform with a trolley. He walked down the corridor quickly yet efficiently. The three nurses that he had encountered earlier were nowhere to be seen- presumably his meeting earlier had the desired impact. He made his way to the end of the corridor and opened up the nurse's trolley to gather his clothes.
- :) -
A fully dressed Sherlock Holmes sat in the back of the taxi with his phone in his pocket. He grabbed it out and looked down. Two new messages...
The first was both predictable and unneeded.
SHERLOCK GET BACK HERE NOW
Lestrade
The second however was of more interest.
Injury doesn't stop the clock ticking...
Tick tock tick tock
"The next right." Sherlock barked.
"Calm down dear." The cab driver said quietly.
- :) -
Sherlock looked up at the old house with dark eyes. It seemed so long since he had been excited to see the place- so excited at the prospect that this would finally be the thing to cure his boredom for that week. And the fresh faced Watson who had been so excited to be joining him there, and unlike the rest he would work for him.
Sherlock knocked down the door and walked up the stairs. The room still had the dusky, dark and dingy qualities which it possessed the last time. He looked around, and remnants of police tape were still hanging up. Clearly the place hadn't been used since. After a few flights of stairs he entered the room in which she had been. A white outline of a body was in the centre of the room.
"Well I'm here now..." Sherlock called out. "Moriaty?"
"Ah Sherlock..." A shaky voice echoed. "I was afraid you'd be...indisposed."
"A rather predictable assumption after someone has been in an explosion." Sherlock said. "Rather a pity then that the explosives were only at half power..."
"You...You're good Sherlock." The shaky voice said.
"I notice you've stolen another voice." Sherlock said.
"Well...the same voice...gets rather monotonous don't you think?" The shaky voice continued. "You should really try it Sherlock- it's rather entertaining."
"I prefer my own one thank you..." He answered back.
"Oh yes...it would rely on a dependence on people..." The voice said. "And you don't like that...do...you...Sherlock? Because reliance...makes...you...weak..."
"So where is the next clue then?" Sherlock asked.
"All...in...good time...freak..." The voice said.
A figure emerged from the darkness. A familiar face surrounded by dark curls and despite her fear a look of utter dislike was spread across her eyes. Sally Donavan walked forward with cautious steps and a red dot made its way onto her chest. She was still wearing her winter coat...
"So...you...figured..." She said through tears. "Out...the...clue"
"Hardly takes a genius to solve such a simplistic clue..."
"And yet still...you...took..." Sally whimpered. "So long..."
"I don't have time for your games..."
"Isn't...this better than being bored?" Sally said, her eyes streaming with tears.
"There are lives at stake..."
"That...never...bothered you before." Sally said. Sherlock looked down and bit his lip. "Is...that repentance Sherlock?"
"Where is John?" Sherlock asked.
A phone rang from the corner of the room. Sherlock turned to face the antique phone- the same antique phone which had been in his flat- right down to the rust detail on the phone.
"The phone of destiny calls Holmes..." Sally said shaking through the tears. "Dare you answer it?"
Sherlock looked at Sally before walking towards the phone. It could be a trap, in fact there was a 62 percent chance of it being a trap but his curiosity took over him as he walked over to it. He picked up the receiver and placed it to his ears.
"Hello?" Sherlock said down the phone.
Chapter 4 finito...
Will Sherlock find out the caller?
Will John be near?
Will Sally ever stop crying?
FIND OUT NEXT TIME
BTW can I say a MASSIVE thank you (or danke) to 'blackdog-lz' and 'special control group' for helping me with my German! :)
