20

"Let's leave the talk for later Molly dear, huh?" Jordan's voice echoed out of the blue in her brain. It seemed distant but still persistent "There are so many things we need to talk about, Molly". What was he talking about? She had to ask him.

So Molly slowly tried to lift her head letting out an unconscious muffled grunt as she felt her head heavy and her thoughts dizzy and confused. Had she been given a powerful sleeping pill? How long had she been sleeping? Another voice rushed back to her memory, "Oh, don't stress yourself, luv". Janine…Janine had stabbed her with a syringe. Had it really happened either was her mind playing trick on her?

She struggled to open one eye at time as concurrently she tried to move her hands and legs only to find out her wrists and ankles were tightly bound in black leather straps. A growl of frustration escaped from her throat while, not easily, she assumed a more upright position bracing her back firmly against what she realized was the back of a cold, metal and uncomfortable chair. There was no part of her body that was not sore, she had pins and needles all over the place, even her butt cheeks were numb.

She blinked and blinked until her vision was no longer blurred and then she blew on the locks of hair that covered her eyes to let her gaze wander as far as she could. Everything around her seemed sterile and impersonal. The room had no piece of furniture except for the chair she was sitting on placed in its centre. In parallel to her, on her right side she saw a single hermetically sealed window. The surroundings were in semi-darkness, a single dim artificial light on the ceiling.

So this was the naked truth. No tricks of her mind, no nightmares, no hallucinations. She had really been kidnapped by Jordan and Janine. And now? What would happen? What was their next move? Would she be able to deal with them on her own?

Molly bit her lower lip as hunched her shoulders overwhelmed by a moment of discouragement. She fought not to allow a few tears from falling as she didn't want them to see she was an easy prey, weak and frightened.

With some further efforts, Molly craned her head to look over her shoulder. The admission steel door was there, also to her right. She noticed that grey panels covered the walls from top to bottom, a clear indication the room had been soundproofed, "No use shouting, Molly" she murmured to herself.

She returned to her original position mentally making a note of the spot where the video camera was. She wasn't surprised Jordan and Janine were watching her, not because they feared she would run away, but because they wanted to see fear take hold of her. And it wasn't a satisfaction she wanted to give them. Was it the last thing she did in the world.

Molly licked her lips and stared straight into the camera, "I know you hear me. What do you want with me? What the hell does all this means?" she said with all the firmness she was capable of under the circumstances hoping not to leak out her despair. No answer came. She caught her breath and then asked again, and then again in a louder and louder voice, but nothing.

Not a word, not a sound just a thundering silence in her ears. Although she was aware the attempt would lead to nothing, she tried to move, to force the straps that held her to the chair as she released her frustration and anger in little wild screams.

She had no sense of how much time she had carried on the vain struggle to free herself but she felt exhausted and without realizing it she closed her eyes sobbing softly as she slipped into sleep.

Molly's dreams was a confused tangle of inquietude, anger, hope and relief. The last two in the person of Sherlock whose velvety baritone voice kept on whispering her to be brave and tenacious because he would take her back home, by any means.

She had been awake for a while when the door opened with a long creak and it was struck a couple of times by an iron pipe which forewarned her someone's arrival. Her head turned slowly to her right taking in her colleague's figure, "Jordan" she said in the calmest tone she was capable of, "What's going on? Where did you take me?".

The blonde man strolled towards Molly with a shuffling step and an unflappable expression, "Answer me" she demanded as he slowly approached her, "What have I done to you?" she asked, her body stiffening as soon as she saw Jordan's hand move towards her shoulder with the intention of brushing her skin with his fingertips. Instinctively, with a gasp, Molly bent over herself to avoid his touch, "Haven't you figure it out, yet?" his voice was low, cold as a knife blade.

Jordan paced back and forth behind her, forcing Molly to crane her neck to look at him, "Tsk! Tsk! Your friend Sherlock would be disappointed in you!" he indulged in a mean chuckle and placing a finger under his chin assumed a pose of fake contemplation, "Mm, friend…or would it be more appropriate to call him…lover? I took a peek at his bedroom while you were showering…I know poking my nose around is not polite, but it was stronger than me! Anyway…that bed must have seen some interesting things tonight!".

Molly inhaled and exhaled deeply in the attempt to keep control over her nerves. She had no intention of letting Jordan divert the conversation about what had happened between her and Sherlock, "What should I figure out? What do you want with me?" she asked in a doggedly tone, which probably irritated him to the point he violently slammed the pipe he held in his hands against the iron panel with which the window was sealed, making Molly wince in her chair.

With deliberate slowness he crouched down in front of her, his face a breath away from hers. In silence he stared at her and Molly, holding his gaze, saw such hatred in the man's irises that her heart seemed to stop, "I want you to know what it's like to spend years and years in prison…I want you to know YOU have stolen my life!".

Every single poisonous word he uttered had been said slowly. Each to give her time to savour the fullness of their meaning and for it to wash over her. Molly's eyes widened and widened and filled with tears. Her face was a mask of disbelief and grief. She took a deep breath and then another as her mind became aware of who he was, "Wi…Win…Winston" her breath caught in her throat.

He gave her a mocking applause as Molly's eyes frantically travelled over his face, studied his features looking for some similarity to the young man she had briefly know eight years before. How was it possible in all that time the two of them had been working side by side she had never noticed anything?

"Oh, don't beat your brains out!" Winston rose to his feet and stepped away from her, "Not even my mother, poor thing, recognize me when she saw me talking to my father!" he laughed, a low manic chuckle, as he smugly ran a hand over his face and hair saying "Unquestionably, my girlfriend did a great job!".

Molly gasped in disbelief. She really couldn't believe her ears, "Your, your father knew…since when? And…and you…you and Janine" she stammered ramblingly hating herself for being so stunned she couldn't utter a meaningful thought. "Oh, poor, poor Molly!" Winston's smile widened and became cruelly amused at her growing consternation, "Let's proceed with order, will you?" he reached out with his free hand and twisted a lock of her hair around his forefinger.

Molly cringed away from him, his cold gaze sending shivers of terror down her spine. Winston squatted down at her feet again as he told her how he met the real Jordan Maddox, how they became friends, and how he later killed him on a night trip boat, "His body was found after days, swollen with water and totally unrecognizable. The authorities put him in a coffin and returned to my parents without them being able to see the body".

"When did your father know then you were alive?" she asked shuddering at his unwanted touch on her cheek, "Oh, not more than six months ago!" he answered by loosening the strap binding her right ankle, "At King's Cross station. Can you believe he just happened to see the two of us talking?" he snorted as with slow circular moves of his thumb he briefly massaged her articulation.

"He wanted me to abandon the idea of taking revenge on you. He was convinced he could persuade you to review my case, even involving the famous detective with the funny hat!" he chuckled amused, "Poor naïve! He never understood what I'm really made of!" he sighed resigned, "So for a while I let him think I was going to have his own way. But it was never my intention to let you get away with it".

"That's why your father called Sherlock last night…to tell him you're alive!" he seemed not to listen to her, intent on fasten the strap again, tighter this time, "But he didn't have the courage, and you…you killed him!".

At her words Winston jerked his head up at her, looking away from the strap of her right wrist which, instead of loosening, he tightened to the point that she let out a cry of pain. He stared at her with ruthlessness and put his hand to her throat making a light but precise pressure, "Shut up!" he hissed venomously.

Winston growled as a wounded animal as he loomed over her again, menacingly "All this because of you, Molly Hooper, and your bullshit on Vanessa's death! Your autopsy report, your deposition have screwed me…There hasn't been a day I haven't thought about how to make you pay for it!".

Molly swallowed hard sensing Winston's pent-up anger but, despite terror running through her veins, she found the courage or the recklessness, who could tell, to say "You don't have to name Vanessa! You didn't deserve her!". In response Winston gave her a mad-eyed look "She didn't deserve me! That stupid bitch was cheating on me, she wanted to leave me and I couldn't let her…I loved her, I would have done everything for her…".

The door opened, "That's enough, Winston!" Janine strolled in, dressed in black tight trousers and a plain white blouse. Her shoes were black and stiletto heels and she was wearing, as usual, perfect make-up. She walked over to him and looked up and down at Molly, "Miss Hooper here, is taken to be an airhead but I assure she's not. Not only she has managed to win over one of the most romantically allergic men, but she has managed to dump and fool the greatest consulting criminal ever".

A smirk of silent satisfaction at that reminder crossed Molly's face for a brief moment, which didn't go unnoticed by Janine who tipped her chin up, "Take it down a notch, little Miss Perfect!" her Irish lilt more pronounced and so bloody akin to that of Jim Moriarty.

With her heart pounding fast in her chest, Molly told herself it was time to stop playing games and put the cards on the table, "Janine, I don't understand what's going on here. Winston wants revenge on me even though he is guilty of Vanessa's murder…but that's ok. But what about you? Don't you think this is an excessive way of making Sherlock pay for using you? Two and half years ago…in addition!" she finally said, proud of not having stammered even for a moment.

Janine seemed genuinely impressed by what Molly said, but then she turned to look at Winston and the two of them broke out into a great peal of laughter, "Oh, that's rich! Either you are really an airhead or you are extremely naïve!" she said as their laugher subsided.

Then she abruptly hurled herself forward, moving so fast Molly only realized it when she felt Janine's right hand on her throat and her bloodshot eyes close to hers, "I used Sherlock. I had to get rid of Magnussen. He was no longer of any use to me. And who better than the renowned knight in shining armour who is willing to throw himself from roofs to save his friends?".

With a smile that never reached her eyes, Janine murmured in her ear "Winston's revenge is aimed at you. But my revenge is for both you and Sherlock. You two together fooled my brother, the person I loved most in the world. And now, as he promised, I will burn the heart out of Sherlock Holmes", then she let go of her and Molly gasped as she added with a cruel laugh "I'm Janine Moriarty. Jim's twin sister".

Okay, so that was their plan. Kill her and don't let Sherlock to save her. Their purpose was to let him live with the remorse of not having protected her. And this, Janine knew perfectly well, would destroy him, get him back to drugs annihilating not only his body but above all his brilliant mind.

Molly closed her eyes. Her heart ached for Sherlock. If only she had the opportunity to talk to him, she would tell him that she loved him, immensely, to the moon and back…that the moments spent with him even if few were the best of her entire life, and that he should go on with his life…be the damn Sherlock Holmes ever. Strong and fearless because that was how her love was supposed to make him.

"The only thing you can do, my dear, is to pray he will find you" Janine's voice brought her back to reality, "He has three hours, after which…" she nodded to Winston who took a roll of packing tape from the floor and approached her, "The room will fill with water and you will drown" he finished explaining as he tore a piece of tape long enough to plug Molly's mouth.

She tried to wriggle despite the straps so as not to be gagged, but Janine held her steady with no apparent effort. And her multiples no, screamed with all the strength in her body were immediately muffled by the tape.

Janine and Winston gave her one last look and before leaving the room, defiantly he said "Let's see how good your consulting detective is…this time he may not live up to your expectations, sweetheart".

The door closed behind them with a thud of metal, leaving Molly alone fighting her despair.