Chapter 8 – A Formidable Duo

A dark car pulled up to the curb, a discreet distance from the textile factory. The ride over had been tense, with John on the phone to his wife explaining the situation, Mycroft's assistant firing off texts to arrange backup, and Sherlock and Mycroft familiarising themselves with the factory blueprints and their weapons. Once they reached their destination however the car fell briefly into silence as they watched the factory.

"No workers wandering about, no sounds of machinery, no delivery vehicles. This is the place." Mycroft observed.

"Of course it is."

"No visible security, either, not even cameras. Though there's no telling what we'll find inside." John contributed, slipping easily back into soldier mode. "What's our entry point?" He leaned over to look at the blueprints.

"The front door, of course. Good manners and all." Mycroft gave a sardonic smile.

John's brow creased. "Well I don't suppose they'd expect it, but we'd lose the element of surprise fairly quickly."

"What element of surprise?" Sherlock snorted "They took our Mother and Molly as bait to lure us here, but didn't offer a ransom, why? Because they know our reputation and knew we'd track them down anyway. They were counting on it. And then they let themselves be seen wandering about Shepard's Bush to tell us where to come. We have no element of surprise - they're expecting us! Let's not disappoint shall we?"

And with that, Sherlock Holmes was done waiting, letting himself out the car and walking straight out towards the building's entrance, leaving John and Mycroft scrambling to catch him up. He paused just outside the door for them though, meeting his brother's eyes and nodding to the door handle, that even John could see wasn't locked. Mycroft nodded back, and then side by side they pushed through the doors.

All John's army training told him they should take it slowly, keep low to minimise themselves as targets, check every room they pass for hidden assailants and take every turn with caution, backs against the wall and peering around first to make sure the coast was clear. So either MI6 did things differently, or the Holmes brothers had skipped class that day.

It was a sight to see, John had to admit, the two of them in their tailored suits, striding perfectly in tandem down the halls, not even slowing down for corners or crossroads. They didn't need too, their sharp senses picked up any movement and they neutralised any threats before they had a chance to react. It was all John could do to keep up, giving a visual inspection to the unconscious bodies on his way past to make sure they were truly out. He noticed three things; firstly that both brothers had exceptional aim, secondly that whatever was in those tranquillisers was as effective as Mycroft said it was, and lastly that he recognised these men from the picture Sherlock had shown him of the men who had harassed Molly. Once five out of six were down, he saw a set of double doors ahead and knew that this was it. As if a switch marked 'stealth mode' had been flicked, both men ahead of him melted against the wall to avoid being seen through the windows in the door, and John followed suit. Once they were all crouched in front of the door, Sherlock flattened himself against the ground, tilting his head sideways to see underneath.

"There's a chair in the center of the room" he murmured, only just loud enough for his companions to hear "I can see Mummy's feet tied to the legs. Oberstein is next to her, facing to door, waiting for us. Definitely him, his shoes must cost more than John's entire wardrobe."

John ignored the dig - it was probably true anyway.

"And Molly? Or the other guy?"

"Inconclusive. It's a big room, I can't see all of it, and it's dangerous to speculate."

"I'd be willing to speculate he has some kind of weapon, probably trained on our Mother." Mycroft replied as Sherlock raised himself back into a crouch.

"A proper hostage situation then." John said, letting out a hard breath. "Well, there goes our weapons, first demand is always to lay down arms."

"No."

"Sherlock - "

"No, John. Stop thinking like a soldier, this isn't some warzone negotiation where the hostage is nothing but a bargaining chip in a larger plan, they are the plan." Sherlock ranted in a half whisper. "He wants to hurt us through them. If we go in there and lay down our weapons he'll shoot her anyway while we're helpless to stop it."

"So what do you suggest? Shoot first the second we walk through the door?" John snapped back.

"No, too risky." Mycroft interjected "We don't know what else we'll find in there, and I won't risk Mummy getting caught in the crossfire."

"Then it's a good thing we have a crack shot with us."


The double doors flew open violently, almost slamming into the wall behind it. Mycroft and Sherlock Holmes walked in side by side, one pair of eyes fixed on their mother and her captor, the others darting about the room, lingering on the other man slipping out a back door, itching to follow.

"That's close enough." Oberstein announced when they were not three meters into the room, halting them.

"Where's Molly?" Sherlock demanded to know.

"All in good time. I'd have thought you'd be happy just to see your mother. A bit rude, to ignore her, aren't you going to say hello?"

"Mummy." Sherlock said stiffly, meeting her eyes, his own doing his best to convey 'keep calm and still, we'll have you out of this soon' to her.

'I know' her eyes said back, looking with pride at both her sons.

"Now where's Molly?" Sherlock hefted his weapon higher to show he was serious.

Oberstein flicked the safety off the gun held to their mother's head to show he was too.

"I make the demands here. Weapons down. Now."

"As you wish." Mycroft said placatingly, his eyes flicking to his brother's, and they bowed in sync to place their guns on the floor.

If Oberstein had been paying closer attention to anything other than his two adversaries standing before him, he might have noticed that the door hadn't swung completely shut behind them. He might have realised they hadn't come alone, and might have noticed the gun poking through the gap in the door, given a clear shot by Sherlock and Mycroft bending down.

But he didn't, not until he felt the pain of a bullet ripping through his wrist, sending the gun flying from his hand and spinning across the floor. He screamed in pain, clutching his damaged wrist to his chest. To her credit though, Mrs Holmes didn't react at all to the roar of a gun echoing in the cavernous space, only flinched slightly as his blood splattered her face.

The brothers straightened back up, leaving their weapons behind anyway, as Mycroft rushed to free their mother, closely followed by John to check her for injuries, and Sherlock went for Oberstein. He grabbed him by the collar with one hand, the other hovering over his damaged hand, ready to inflict more pain if necessary.

"You didn't answer my question." He ground out.

To his surprise, Oberstein just chuckled weakly, pressing a button on a small remote hidden in his uninjured hand. Sherlock let go and backed up quickly, half expecting some kind of explosives. Instead, there was a burst of light from above as a ceiling mounted projector fired up, projecting onto the wall what seemed to be live footage of Molly, perched on a bed in a small room. She jumped to her feet however as the door to her cell opened and in walked the last man standing from the group who had harassed her, the very one who had taken the lead in doing so. He turned and locked the door behind him.

"No!" Sherlock breathed, before bursting into action, running for the door the man had left through, but not before stopping to scoop up Oberstein's gun.


AN: Wow, so many followers now, and reviews, thanks for reviews on the last chapter to deby44, amherendeen and halfpastlate :)

Have just noticed my section divides haven't been making it through formatting, will put them in from now on to save confusion.