I APOLOGIZE PROFUSELY. I literally saved this chapter on the Doc Manager and forgot to post it ugh dammit I'm really sorry. Here you go.

"You're a colonel, aren't you?" You demanded, leaning forward in your chair as Colonel Guendolyn broadened his shoulders. "And you're claiming there's nothing you can do."

"I'm a man of the court, not the field, Mr. Holmes." He replied.

"You said that you'd get in touch with the ambassador," I inserted.

"And I tried. But he's a busy man."

"Make him more busy. We have a British citizen and war veteran-"

"-gone missing, yes, I am well aware. But as I told John, there's very little I can do at the moment. The war is ending, and we don't want to do anything that may upset the delicate balance of peace there. A new team of investigators, even an investigation, could turn out to be devestating."

"Then use the people you already have out there," You demanded.

"And send them back into hostile territory?" He scoffed. "It's not going to happen."

You glared at him, your hands still gripped tightly over the arms of your chair, and he returned it with an irritated look of his own. I reached over to brush my hand against your knee, trying to give you a little incentive to calm, and you bit, sitting back to visibly relax. The colonel appreciated it and let his temper cool as well, his jaw rotating and his hands folding neatly in his lap.

Sholto, who had turned down a seat and had just been examining Guendolyn's bookshelves, now came toward us. "What about the woman?" He asked. "If she were a criminal, could you help us find her?"

"It would depend."

"On what?"

"On how much data you could get for me, and how far my clearance will take you." He turned toward his computer, tapping in a few words while continuing to talk to Sholto. "Name?"

"Miranda." You answered for him.

Guendolyn glanced up at you, looking surprised. I touched my forehead; recognition was a great thing for you, probably a bad thing for Jandi.

"You know a Miranda?"

"I wouldn't have, except-" Franklin swept through the pile of papers to his left, running his finger through until he found the document in mind. "There was an article was just distributed a few days ago. A warrant is out for the arrest of this woman."

He folded over the page and showed us. All three of us agreed almost instantaneously. Long black hair, big eyes, athletic figure. Definitely looked like her.

"Who is she?"

"That's a good question." Franklin responded, taking back the photo. "We think she's primarily English-speaking, but we can't be completely sure. Those few who've met her have claimed she was American. In the underworld she's identified by the name Miranda Kaj, but she has also gone by Ming Gila, Melanie Hernandez, and Meer Silayeva in several separate cases."

"All names beginning with M," You murmured. "Fascinating."

"She's currently wanted in Hong Kong, she's made the lists," He said. "She reportedly has large claims with drug trafficking. And she's dangerous. I'll have to let someone know right away that she's been spotted. Where was the last place you saw her?"

"You'll find out as soon as you start the search," You replied, smugly.

"I can't start the search if-" The lights came on in Franklin's eyes, and he closed his mouth tightly. "I've already told you-"

"You've heard my conditions."

Frustrated, the colonel turned to me. "John."

"Don't ask me. I didn't even want to share any of this." I argued. "The woman, whoever she is, told us specifically that if we tried to go after her, she'd respond. Whether it be a private detective or the police force, it constitutes as 'going after', and I don't want to do anything else that might put Jandi in danger. I just want to find Macie."

He kneaded his wrists and glanced up at Sholto, who now was standing behind our chairs.

"I'll agree with John." He said.

"You all are madmen. Fucking vigilantes." Franklin grumbled. He stooped down to fish out a fresh pad of paper and a pen from his drawer, laying it in front of us with his brow still angrily curled. "But if you want any bloody help, you're going to have to be giving me names. Villages. People. Anything to start the search. But I'm sure Sholto has plenty of information yet to tell us, don't you, major?"

"I'll help as much as I can," He answered.

"Good." He tapped at the page. "Write."

I gave up my chair to James as he came forward, and took a place behind you. "How soon do you think you'll be able to have results?" I asked.

"It depends on how much Major Sholto is able to give me. If his memory's still wholly-to-mostly intact, it could be several days to several weeks. If not, there will be much more useless information to weed through." He glanced up at me. "You can imagine."

"Why would my memory be a factor?" James defended.

"It's no offense to you, major. But I am aware of your handicap." He said.

Sholto looked at him.

"PTSD is often known to cause memory loss." He continued. "Particularly around the time of the traumatic event. If the damage was significant, it could affect the information you give us. But we don't have the time for you to test whether your memory is accurate, so for now we'll have to rely on your word."

The thought fluttered through Sholto's eyes but seemed to twist his stomach when it settled on his tongue. "My memory is fine."

"Let's hope so." Franklin looked back down at the paper. "Is that all?"

He looked down as well. There was a small list, neatly divided into two columns, where he had listed the names of villages that he remembered, alongside the names of persons that he could recall. From what I could see, it looked like a pretty decent list to get started. But there was something wrong. Sholto was frozen, his eyes gone blank as he looked down at the list.

"Is everything alright, major?" Guendolyn asked.

Sholto snapped himself out of it. "Yes. Here."

Franklin took the slide back and nodded at the contents, picking up his desk phone. "I'll make some calls, see what I can do, and I'll get back to you. Rachel, put me on the line with Schwarz. You three, get out."

You rose toward the door and I followed suit, my cane tapping gently against the carpetted flooring. Rachel, the PA, gave us a half-apologetic, half-impressed look as we left, nodding briefly to us as Sholto closed the door.

The hallway was bright with the sunshine streaming through the windows, so much so that it hurt my eyes at first. You started digging through your pockets, evidently looking for your mobile phone, and were absentmindedly whispering things to yourself. "Lestrade tried contacting me, I need to call him back." He said, and motioned toward one of the guest sofas. "You wait here. I'll be back."

You gripped your phone and quickly stepped away, leaving Sholto and I outside the colonel's door. Sholto was the first to sit, and I joined him not long after, massaging my leg with the back of my palm while I watched you pace back and forth. Obviously you were enjoying the new challenge, and the energy radiated off you like heat. But the feeling was not mutual, and I could tell that Sholto was dragging even more than I was.

He was sitting with his elbows propped onto his knees, head held halfway down. I felt as if I was invading his privacy somehow, but when he realized I was watching him, he tilted his head toward me and glanced back. His eyes were glassy, but still somewhat focused on me.

"You don't really think my memory was affected, do you?" He asked.

"It didn't seem too bad," I said, honestly. "Not any worse than mine. Although, you did forget about Eddie being with Gale."

"They were acting suspiciously but they were never really together. I do remember that."

"They were together, I'm telling you. You and I were in the surgery with them, and they macked right there. " I smiled, but as the thought wavered, it disappeared. "You really don't remember that night?"

"I remember it," He answered. "But not the way you do. You dressed my arm in my dorm, not in the ward."

I pursed my lips, not quite sure how to respond, and Sholto took it like a kick to the stomach.

"There are things missing." He murmured.

"I'm sure it's just nothing," I said quickly. "It isn't a big deal. Maybe I'm the one who forgot."

"No."

He held my eyes in his, and it felt like my heart was breaking. We were both caught off-guard, and we didn't quite know how to deal with it. I felt his pain like a lightning strike; his memory was all that linked us to Macie now, and at the same time it was keeping us from her. I didn't even know how to comfort him now. Even as much as I wanted to, I couldn't repair his mind.

You broke our silence with the end of your phone call, sliding your mobile back into your pocket and unbuttoning the front folds of your coat. "An audacious criminal just arrived in the country from Hong Kong," You rattled, "Interested in finding a young woman with ties to Afghanistan. A young veteran. She enlists the help of the woman's Afghan housemate. Or did he enlist her help? If so, how did he meet her? How did their lines cross?"

"Try to keep it down, Sherlock." I muttered, standing.

"And even though she's crafty, she always chooses to take names with the first initial M. Why M? Is there something that the surnames also have in common?"

"She could have found identity in the first initial."

"But identity is closely linked to sentiment. Most high-ranking criminals don't have many problems with sentiment."

"Maybe this one's different."

"She's a woman."

"That's... not what I meant."

"No, but how many women do you see in positions of authority in criminal world? Not many. She would've had to squirm and crawl, inch her way up their ranks. But she's young, too. She must've had something more to offer them, something dangerous and unique. She's definitely different, but how?" You gripped your fists together. "God, it's a good one."

You got some odd looks from some passerbys, and I cleared my throat. "Might want to contain your enthusiasm. We are in Parliament, after all."

"And shouldn't we be focusing on finding Lowdry?" Sholto inserted.

"Finding Miranda will lead us to finding Lowdry," You answered. "She said that we were after the same thing. So then, the reason that Miranda cares about Macie is the reason we should care about Macie."

"Maybe she cares because she's a human being." I asked.

"She care because she's different," You corrected. "And different means exciting. Definitely un-boring. Always un-boring." You stepped toward the elevators, expecting us to follow along. "We'll go back to the flat and see what we can do about a web. Sholto, do you have experience with crime webs?"

"I can't say I have."

"It's not too complicated. I'll set it up."

"What did Lestrade want?" I asked.

"Oh, yes, Lestrade." You clicked the elevator button. "His team's gotten farther with the Maratina case. They're in the planning stages of another bust, and he wants me up there with the logicians to help work out the routes."

"I thought you weren't going anywhere until you were fully healed."

"I wouldn't be leaving the Yard," You said. "There's no field work."

I bit my cheek as the elevator doors opened. We let the occupants leave before we stepped inside, you clicking the level for the ground floor, while Sholto and I stood back. You turned to me, leaning your head down just barely enough to be noticeable as the doors slid closed.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah. Just tired." I stretched out my arms. "I might lay down at the flat."

"That would be a good idea."

I nodded, glancing up at you. You were deducing me again, grazing across my figure head to foot. You tried to do it softly, but I didn't enjoy it any more than usual. My attention was shot, and all I wanted was to get home. Sholto could sympathize; he met my eyes from across the elevator, a shimmering mixture of both cold and warm.

Nevermind, I'll find reviews like you.

Next update Thursday.