Sherlock Holmes stepped out of the cab onto the block and walked up to his brother's house. He saw a car there, and the car wasn't Mycroft's. He went to the door, and tried the doorknob. The door was unlocked. His brother never left his door unlocked. He slowly and quietly opened it. All was quiet, then he heard voices. They were quiet. and business like and they were coming from his brother's study. Sherlock carefully made his way up the stairs. When he got to the door he stopped.
"Do you have it Gwen?" Mycroft said.
"Yes, sir."
"Good. I hope that this is an improvement from the last one."
The last one? Sherlock thought Oh... Kate Hawthorne she made him something dangerous and she told Ms. Baribault about it and he had her kill herself to make sure she didn't tell the police...
There was the sound of papers moving then silence after that a beep.
"Good job, my dear. It seems like you were the only one to get it right. I can now spy on all the secrets of the British government." There was a pause, "Oops. I guess I shouldn't have told you that. Now, there are only two options. One, you can join me, or two you can die. Which one?" There was silence again. "To bad."
Sherlock burst through the doors with a gun in his hand. "Hold it right there Mycroft!" He looked around, there was a girl there, Gwen, she looked about 25, long black hair and average height. She was being held by the neck by one of Mycroft's men. She had a terrified look in her brown eyes.
Mycroft looked mildly surprised. "My, little brother. Why are you here and especially at this timing?"
"I know what you did killed Kate Hawthorne because you were afraid that if you let her live, then she might go to the police and you couldn't have that, could you? So you killed her. When I came to ask you for help, you were the one who tampered with the CCTV tape! Then you discovered that Kate told her Headmistress. You talked to her and told her to lie to us. Once she had done that you called her and made her take those pills so that it looked like suicide. But the only question is why?"
"Well, it seems as if you have figured almost everything out. I can't let that continue though. As for why, that is something you have to figure out on your own." He smiled, a cold smile. Sherlock looked at him curiously before he felt something hard hit his head and everything went black.
"Where do you think Sherlock went?" Lestrade asked. They were standing outside the University and there was no sign of the detective.
"He could be anywhere. You know Sherlock."
"Yes, I do. Perhaps you should call his brother, he might know."
"Indeed. But I'll call him later. He might come back to the flat later."
"Ok then. I'll see you later."
"Yes, good bye." John walked out to the street and got a cab. Hours later he was sitting on the couch when he looked at the time. It was 6 PM, Sherlock should have been back by then. Mycroft might know where he is. John picked up his phone and called Mycroft.
"Hello?" Mycroft said.
"Hello. It's John."
"What is it now?" Mycroft sounded annoyed. He never sounded annoyed when John called.
"Ummm Sherlock. He just left. Do you know where he is?"
"Yes."
"Can you tell me?"
"He is at my house."
"May I speak with him?"
"Well, he is a little tied up right now." Mycroft laughed evilly.
"What have you done? Why haven't you helped him?"
"Let's just say that he caught on to me and I had to take care of it."
"What do you mean take care of it? He is your brother for God's sake!"
"Figure it out."
"Figure what out? You are his broth-. Unless... You are the one behind all of this."
"Good job John. Now I must be going, I have plans and they must be done. Good bye." Mycroft hung up.
Why would Mycroft do that to his own brother? Then John realized something. Mycroft had told John where Sherlock was. Mycroft was being careless, like he knew he had already won. He then made another call to Lestrade and told him what had happened and who to look out for. John said that he would look for Sherlock. Lestrade listened and then he went out to get Mycroft.
John got a cab and asked the cabby to go to the elder Holmes house.
When Sherlock woke up, he was lying on the ground. His hands were tied behind his back, so were his legs. He was gagged and he could feel blood dripping down his face. Sherlock moaned. It was almost pitch black in the room he was in, except for the dim light
How could Mycroft do this? And why? I need to contact John or Lestrade. He struggled to get his hands undone. After many hours of hard work Sherlock was able to get his bonds undone. His hands and wrists were red and sore. He stood up and walked to the light, and felt around the hardwood surface until he came across something cold and round; a doorknob. He turned it, the door was locked. Then he felt around it to see if there was a lock and of course there wasn't.
Mycroft was well prepared. It was almost as if he knew I would come. After a moment, Sherlock thought of backed up, then with all his might he kicked the door. It barely budged. He tried it again. And again. But the door didn't even move. Sherlock ruffled his dark hair in frustration and sat down. When he did, he felt a wave of exhaustion sweep over him. He didn't know how long he had been in the room he was in. The detective laid down and let sleep overtake him.
