Disclaimer – You recognise it, I don't own it.

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Lestrade had settled himself in the far corner of the room from the door. He wanted to be well out of the way when the shooting started. And he had no doubt that it would.

None of the men seemed interested in communicating with the police outside. Though a few were playing on smartphones and one seemed to be having a conversation with someone.

Then, suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Two swift knocks and a bang. It was repeated twice.

"We are not angels." One called out from near the door.

"I've already used that one today." A familiar voice retorted, "As you well know, Jaguar."

"Oh it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that…" Another stated loudly.

"And it's Johnny go away!" The voice outside came back, "But it's thank you Captain Watson, when the band begins to play."

"Yes, it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' anything you please." A third joined in.

"An' Johnny ain't a bleeding fool, you bet that TC sees." The voice sighed, "You did have to pick the longest one, you fragging ijits!"

"TC!" The cry was taken up with glee.

Lestrade watched as the barricade came down in seconds allowing two men in. The taller of the two he didn't recognise at all. Though clearly the SCO19 men did. Though they rebuilt the barrier behind him and his friend.

The friend caused him to rise to his feet in confusion.

"John?" He whispered.

"TC!" The cries were loud and joyous.

"Captain on deck!"

"Will someone shut the Bootneck up?" John sighed, as the men instantly reacted. Each pulling off a perfect salute, "I'm not being piped on board for god's sake. This isn't even a bloody ship!"

Lestrade watched in confusion as the men clapped John on the back and pulled him into hugs.

"Why didn't you come see us?" Gremlin asked.

"You know why, Grem." John fired back, "No doubt you've hacked my file."

"Well…" Gremlin started rubbing the back of his neck.

"Drop and give me twenty." John pointed at the ground.

Much to the room's laughter, Gremlin obeyed.

"Anyway," John squatted down next to the man counting out push-ups, "What you doing here? You're no gunman. Doubt you got hired for the SCO19."

"Cyber-crimes." Gremlin replied without pausing, "But I heard you'd be coming here. I wasn't going to miss out. So I tagged along."

"Typical." John sighed, as Gremlin got up, "Your skills still up to scratch?"

"You wound me." Gremlin staggered back as if shot.

"Good." John smirked, "Richard Brook."

"The actor involved in the whole Moriarty-slash-Holmes thing?" Gremlin asked.

"Precisely." John nodded, "He's a phoney. A fake. Something Moriarty made up to frame Sherlock with. I need to know how and when. Can you help?"

"Absolutely." Gremlin nodded, "Personal interest?"

"Sherlock's my flatmate." John replied, "I know him. This isn't something he's capable of. Alan?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you help me?"

"What do you want?"

"Richard Brook, his life history. From birth to now. I want his school reports, his medical files, his photographs, his manager, his shows, his directors. I want to be able to watch his work. I want his friends…"

"Basically everything." Alan interrupted.

"Exactly." John smiled, "How long will it take you?"

"Give me five hours?" Alan asked.

"Take six," John replied, "And pull it into a decent presentation."

"I get it." Alan grins, "I'm to prove that it's false. And Gremlin is to prove how it was done."

"You read my mind." John retorted, a wide grin on his face. One Lestrade hasn't seen for a while.

"Not hard." Alan laughed, "You're still bloody loyal. What'd he do? This Sherlock… To earn your trust."

"I'll tell you later." John shook his head, "I've got to keep moving. He's a genius. But he's also bloody stupid. Good in theory. But he likes to prove his theories. To the point of danger."

"Doctor Watson, what the hell is going on here!" Lestrade had had enough of the banter.

"You've been played, Detective Inspector Lestrade." John replied evenly.

Lestrade flinched, John's voice wasn't cold. But it wasn't filled with the warmth he was used to. And John hadn't called him anything other than Greg for nearly sixteen months.

"Moriarty exists." John continued, "He exists and he's playing you and the rest of the Yard."

"You can't know that." Lestrade countered, "The evidence is undeniable."

"Do you honestly think, Detective Inspector Lestrade," John carried on, "That if Sherlock really was such a criminal mastermind, he would leave such a mass of evidence just lying around?… No. You've been played. And I have some evidence towards it."

"You have proof?" Lestrade stared.

"A tail and two snipers." John shrugged, "Three if you count the hitman – I don't suppose you could exactly call him a sniper seeing as how he was inside the apartment – still currently at 221A Baker Street. I probably ought to send someone to pick him up. I can't expect Mrs Hudson to have him there indifferently."

"You left her alone with a hitman?" Lestrade stared in shock, "She's in danger!"

"No." John shook his head, "The only thing she's in danger of, is Lieutenant Stone charming her off her feet. He's incorrigible. But a bloody good man."

"Here, here!" The agreement went up.

"One of those snipers was aimed at you, Detective Inspector Lestrade." John declared, "I just handed him over to Donovan. He'll tell you everything he knows. The tail and the other sniper are in safe hands. As soon as I get five minutes to breathe, I'll have them brought over."

"Are they secure?" One of the SCO19 men asked, before Lestrade could.

"Breas and Scotty are looking after them." The man who had come in with John stated firmly.

"I almost want them to try something." John sighed, "Though I doubt they will. The tail went down very easily."

"You hit him with something from Ben's shop?" The question was quick.

"Yes. And no, I don't know what it was. And I don't want to know." John retorted, "The sniper was more work."

"We can see."

And Lestrade could. Now that his attention was brought to it. John had clearly been in a fight. His hair was mussed. His clothing disarrayed. His cheek was bruised. No doubt there were other bruises and injuries, but they were well hidden by the baggy clothes… Which seemed to fit better than normal.

No, it was just the jumper. It looked more like a regular fit now. Instead of its usual baggy fit. For a moment Lestrade wondered about that, then he dismissed it. It wasn't important.

"Anyway, we don't have time." John sighed, "I need to get to St Barts. That's where the Kings are playing out their part of the game. Hopefully they're still in stalemate."

"What is going on here?" Lestrade tried again.

"Moriarty exists." John declared, "He's trying to destroy Sherlock. Both of them are at Barts. Any questions?"

"How do you know all these officers?"

"They're old army buds."

"Hey!" One of them protested.

"Okay, military." John conceded, "Sorry, forgot the Bootnecks, Airy-Fairies and Fish-heads in the room."

"Hey!" Several of them this time protested.

"We don't have time for this." John sighed, "I need to get to St Barts. Sherlock's going to do something stupid. And Moriarty wouldn't point guns at our heads for no reason."

"We can just walk out of here?" Lestrade stared.

"I asked my friends to ensure your safety, Detective Inspector Lestrade." John replied, "I confess I did not expect them to take it to this extreme. However what is done is done. We just walk out of here and then Ben can explain it. I need to make sure that Sherlock doesn't do something dumb. You can either stay and interrogate your sniper, go help round up the tail, the sniper and the hitman, or come with me and yell at Sherlock… And also, hopefully, arrest Moriarty."

"Merlin, Jaguar, Hastings, Carrot," Ben rattled off the names, "There's also a spotter somewhere around St Barts. Go find him. Rooftop level. He's set to make a phone call at some point. If he can't get through to the men… Moriarty's going to know. Lance, Gawain. Protection detail. TC."

"I'll be fine." John protested, "I'm not important to Moriarty."

"You're the goddamn White Queen on this playing field!" Ben fired back, "And that makes you pretty damn valuable! I will not have you getting injured on our watch. Yes, the Black Queen is out of play. But even a pawn can take a Queen."

"So you'll assign me a Pair of Knights to keep me out of trouble?" John retorted.

"If that's what it takes." Ben nodded, "You best get moving. I think we're in the endgame."

"Agreed." John nodded.

Before Lestrade could really take it all in, John was at the door, the barricade dismantled by his two 'knights'. The four going to look for the spotter, only a heartbeat behind.

They were out the door before Lestrade had started to move.

But as he went to follow, he looked around the room. Gremlin was tapping away on his laptop. Alan was leaning against a wall, phone trapped between his shoulder and head. The rest were still lounging around.

They reminded him of nothing less than a pride of lions. Lazing around awaiting for something…

No. They were a pack of wolves… Of hounds… Dogs, loyal to one master.

And he had just seen their master… Their Queen as they put it.

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Please Review.

I write stories because I can't draw. I have all these images in my head that I cannot reproduce. So I try and describe them with words. If anyone else would like to try to translate what I have written into what they think I saw in my head, they have my permission. I only ask that I be notified of it, so that I may look and go "OOoooh!".

I would like to thank my followers and reviewers. Thanks a bunch! I set myself the minimum hope of a review per chapter. When I have managed over ten per chapter (on average) I know I'm doing well. So thank you.

Sentarla – I'll talk with my muse. She's a bit wilful.

Pyro-Neko-Isis – Here you go.

MapleleafCameo – Hope it lived up to expectation.

AkoyaMizuno – Well, don't fall down.

Angelwings23123 – Thank you!

Shadowgal ANBU – Well, *It's Christmas!*

Chappysmom – And then some.

Radekris – Welcome to the story. Glad you like it.

Aracil – I won't mind. So long as you don't actually die.

Kyer – Moran never stood a chance. And SCO19? They're the Specialist Firearm Command branch of the Metropolitan Police Service. Basically SWAT.

Garnettac – Well, I hope it wasn't too long a wait.

Smoochynose – Yes, well, I like picking on him.

Chixue – John is like an onion.

Toris Lietvu Laurinatis – Did you manage to look at the pistol?

Johnsarmylady – John's a bit complicated to me.

DarkJediQueen – Old saying in my family, if you are a snake, always beware the small fluffy animal in the corner… Sometimes it's a mongoose.

Min23 – No pictures. Sorry.

Azteka – I don't know why the BBC don't do more with John. After all, he killed for Sherlock less than two days after meeting him.

Grey-shadow-horse – No, it's not all of John's old mates. But enough of them.

Chaoticmom – Ah, but the question is whether Mycroft actually bothered to look. Because certainly the top file doesn't give all the information about TC.

Lady-Frisselle – If you don't mind telling me, which Mailing-List? I'm just curious. Thanks for visiting.

IzzyDelta – Don't go insane on me, please.

Thanks once again.