They had their answer sixteen hours later. Sherlock sat in the same spot, pretending to not be dozing, his head resting in his hand. The conference table was littered with the barely picked at remains of takeaway. Molly slept on one of the two seater sofas in the break room. Lestrade had been called away on a homicide and John had gone back to the flat to shower and shave.

The chime of the elevator startled Sherlock awake. Anthea stepped off the lift and came into the conference room, her heels clicking a rapid staccato on the tiled floor. She went directly to the flat screen and inserted a memory card.

"Get Molly," she said.

"What have you got?"

"Get her." She held the remote control and stood in front of the screen, arms folded and eyebrow raised. She was at least as proficient in Judo as he, meaning it would be less time consuming to do as she asked rather than try to retrieve it.

Sherlock said Molly's name as he entered the break room. Lestrade's coat slipped off of her as she sat up.

"What's happening?"

"Anthea's here, she's got something."

Molly jumped up and pushed past him out the door, running to the conference room. She stopped abruptly in the doorway, her hand going to her mouth as she saw what was on the flat screen. Sherlock ran into her, nearly pushing her over, but he caught her by the shoulders. His grip tightened when he saw the photo.

It was the very picture of twenty first century domesticity. Moriarty and Moran at a farmers market, dressed casually and holding cups of coffee. Moriarty carried Violet in a sling. Anthea flipped through the photos, all similar. Violet's face was clear in some of them. She appeared healthy and content. Some of the photos showed other market goers interacting with the pair and with the baby.

"This is fucking surreal," Molly said quietly. "Are they posing as a couple?"

"According to our sources, yes. The locals were more than willing to share some gossip. They moved to the area a month ago, into a house that sold several months ago but stayed vacant. They haven't been out and about much. Apparently they've told people they're planning on opening an art gallery. Violet is being called Gemma and they claim they adopted her from a teen mother in Kansas."

Sherlock let go of Molly's shoulders and moved closer to the screen.

"And they have all the falsified paperwork to back it up?"

"Correct."

"He knows we know," said Molly. Anthea and Sherlock looked at her.

"Well, I mean, of course he does," she continued. She came to stand beside him in front of the screen. "Why else would he make it so easy, going out like that?If he doesn't know for sure he has to suspect it. He wants us to come to him."

She was right. His shock hadn't come from the information itself but the fact that Molly had seen it right away.

Moriarty was making it too easy after months of evasion. There was no way in hell he wasn't going to Montauk, but there was a very good chance he would be walking into a trap.

"I'm going with you, you know." She looked up at him, her eyes dark and her jaw set. "I just want you to know, in case there was even a second you were thinking otherwise."

Anthea excused herself and intercepted John as he came off the lift. Sherlock shut the door and went over to Molly. He took her by her upper arms and bent down to look her in the eyes.

"Molly I don't even have a plan yet and I don't know what we'd be walking into."

"I don't care. I'm not sitting here knowing she's there. And I don't need your permission." She raised her hands to his face and this time he let her, their coolness on his cheeks soothing. "Besides, I'm the one he really wants there."

Her resolve frightened him; he knew that she shared his suspicions about what Moriarty wanted.

He straightened up and pulled away from her. He turned quickly back to the screen, his eyes roving over every centimeter, marking every detail.

"We don't know that for sure." He picked up the remote and flipped through the photos again.

"I think he made it pretty clear," she said. "But it doesn't matter. I'm going."

"I know," he said.

When Mycroft arrived, he proved to have demonstrated quite a bit more foresight than Sherlock when it came to Molly's involvement going forward.

"I've called in a number of rather large favors in order to get you and Dr. Watson clearance as field operatives. Homeland Security is quite interested in Moriarty and Moran due to some fingers the former has in some other pies. However, we don't want a hostage situation, which is surely what will happen if we attempt any sort of raid, so they have consented to let you act on your own with limited backup if needed. The advantage of the plan for them is that it will be easy to deny all knowledge or involvement if things go wrong.

Molly and Sherlock will be posing as newlyweds on honeymoon. I know it's rather cliché but it's also simple and therefor easier to pull off. Since it's likely that Moriarty is expecting you, the ruse is more about avoiding publicity in the UK and, once again, limiting exposure of your involvement if you are not successful."

Anthea handed Sherlock an envelope. It contained their fake passports, credit cards, a flight itinerary and a set of white gold wedding bands and a diamond solitaire engagement ring. The stone was emerald cut, just large enough to properly showcase an appropriate monetary value set on love without being too ostentatious. Molly's face was inscrutable as she looked at it. He closed the box and put it back in the envelope.

"You're flying commercial I'm afraid," Anthea said. "First class, though. Your flight leaves in three hours. A car will be waiting to take you from New York to your bed and breakfast in Montauk where you'll meet up with our operative and a representative from Homeland Security. Dr. Watson will be joining you tomorrow." She handed John an envelope.

"Leonard Buckman," he said, flipping through his new passport. "What'd they saddle you with, Sherlock?"

"Alan Campbell and Carolyn unmemorable."

"If Moriarty becomes aware of your presence he will undoubtedly contact you, otherwise, you will attempt first contact on neutral ground. Miss Hooper will only be involved when absolutely necessary but should remain in either your presence or Dr. Watson's at all times. Any questions?"

"Yes," said Sherlock. "Do I get a gun?"