Author's Note: hi guys😊 so here is one of the cooler chapters, hopefully. I think so anyway. Wow, this story has been a big success. Thank you all for reviewing, following and favoriting. Enjoy

"Surveillance cameras. Of course. Don't know why I didn't notice." Lestrade was pacing in his office occasionally throwing his arms in the air. "Anderson did you find anything else?" he couldn't just sit back and do nothing while the camera footage was retrieved.

"Yes actually, Detective Inspector," he pulled out the report sheet. "The kidnapper's finger prints were all over the place."

"Have you checked to see if they were in the system?"

"Yes, but there are no matches."

"Well than I guess we are back to square one." He sighed in disappointment.

"I'll keep looking" Anderson turned away. It took close to an hour for the short man to walk in the door.

"Sorry it took me so long. Didn't know how much of the footage to get. Here's 48 hours." He gently slammed the tape on the DI's desk.

"Thank you" he took it and slid it into the VCR in the corner of his office.

Have the tape. Watching it now. Let you know if I find anything.

There was a loud screech as a van turned the corner. From it walked a man in a black coat. He stood at the door for several seconds. He bent over and picked at the lock. The door closed behind him softly as he went inside. Thirty minutes pass before it opens again. A very defeated looking Sherlock emerged, his hands bound behind him. His kidnapper locked back the flats and made his way towards the van, opening a door for Sherlock, then walking around to the driver's side. The van sped away.

John trusted Lestrade to do his job, but he had a hard time with the fact that the investigation had reach a point where John's assistance wasn't required. Maybe it was the feeling of uselessness, or the fact that Sherlock had almost hit the twenty four hour mark. He had been living with the brilliant consulting detective for a year and he still didn't understand his methods of deduction. If John were in Sherlock's place, he thought, than Sherlock would have solved the case by now and they would both be home, safe, eating dinner or watching the telly. But it wasn't the other way around.

A strange thought popped into John's inquiring mind. It was less of a thought and more of a word, a name really. Moriarty. He knew that his last encounter with him at the swimming pool, when he had enough explosives strapped to his chest to blow up a two story house, was not the last he would see or hear of the sinister man. What if his affectionate hatred towards the detective were enough to kidnap him. He had told them they were in his way, he had tried to kill them. Was this his way of taking them out?

Author's Note: hope you liked it. Sorry this chapter was short. I will not be updating as frequent since my winter break ends today. Thank you all for your continued support. As always please review. I love to hear from you.