She woke up a little while later, feeling a little refreshed. She shifted a little, yawning, then relaxed again, still coming out of sleep. "Mmm... How long was I out?"
He opened his eyes slowly, and glanced at the clock. "A couple hours. Figured you needed it."
She gave a small nod. "Yeah. I keep just kinda... Low key passing out. Body is telling me to slow down."
"It tends to do that when you almost die," he said quietly, with a touch of humor. He sighed. "Alright. I need to get up, and go talk to Jim about the network. And then find Adler, because it's her turn to deal with this mess now."
She sighed, but she shifted and moved off of him onto the sofa. "Alright. Bring back sustenance."
He nodded, standing up and shaking his half-asleep leg out. "Any preferences?"
She shook her head. "As long as it's kinda salty, I don't care."
He nodded, heading into the bedroom to change into a less wrinkled shirt.
She curled up on the warm spot he'd left behind on the sofa, which helped to soothe some of the parts of her that ached. She had a feeling she was going to need to ice her chest tonight, which would be very unpleasant. At least she wouldn't have to do it alone.
He left quietly and headed for the infirmary. He needed to update Jim on his plans for the network.
Jim was in his bed, flipping through files on his tablet, his mind uncharacteristically quiet. He wasn't sure why, but he had a suspicion it had to do with his two top employees, both of whom he'd fucked and one whom he considered a friend, were getting... Married. It was just... Weird.
Moran knocked, reaching up to straighten his collar again, waiting to be called in and mentally going over his plan again.
"Come in," Jim said, not looking up from his tablet just yet.
Moran walked in, closing the door behind him. "Good afternoon, sir."
"If you say so," Jim drawled, setting his tablet down on his lap as he looked up. Moran, realistically, looked no different, but it was still odd to look at him and think that he'd proposed to anybody.
He didn't react, just plodded forward. "If you're feeling up to it, sir, I'd like to discuss retaking the network."
"Of course I'm feeling up to it, Moran, don't be ridiculous," he rolled his eyes. "I'm going mad in here, doing this little."
He nodded, falling into parade rest. "I've been evaluating my situation with Ines's security. I think it may be possible to reverse what she did to us. To place our own people."
"Interesting thought. One I've considered myself, but only briefly. I've been otherwise occupied," he snorted, gesturing to the room around him with a dismissive flick of his wrist. "It sounds like you've gotten further than I have. What's your plan?"
He sighed. "I need a couple of ears to the ground before I can plan too far," he admitted. "Ideally, we get a few people in place and start evaluating what Ines's story is. What she says happened to you. Then we exploit that. Prove her a liar, sow dissent. Then we step in at her weakest point, and we'll have the network at out back."
Jim nodded. "Do you have any potential candidates to act as our ears?"
He sighed. "I think we need to hire outside, sir. Ines has all of our records. We need someone she doesn't know. That, and Adler."
Jim nodded again, tapping one finger soundlessly against his knee. "Make two teams. One of them will be led by a Belgian, Frenchman, Algerian, one of those, I don't care, but it has to be authentic. She's not a reader but she's capable of recognizing her own countrymen, I'm sure. There's only so much a grifter can fake. The other team will be led by one of Armetti's people. Reliable, and not British. If she's smart she's screening against Brits; I would, if I was taking over a network that had been ingrained in one place for so long. Who knows who might have slipped through record keeping cracks? The teams will have nothing to do with each other, and we'll integrate them at different times. Ideally they won't be aware there is another team. They'll enter in the guise of a contract team - they need to be good, because if they're dismissed we're going to have to do the whole debacle over again. God help them, if they come crawling back here without progress."
He nodded. "Absolutely, sir. I'll begin assembling teams right away. Anything else?"
"Think about where best Adler would be served. I have no use for her here, when you and..." What name did he refer to Harrison as, now? Certainly not her first name. "Harrison, let's assume, are both back at your respective posts. I can't kill Adler, or imprison her, and I won't set her free while I'm displaced."
"We probably have some time with that," Moran said, pointedly ignoring Jim's grasping around Lorna's name. "Harrison is recovering slowly. Even an hour or two of activity exhausts her. It will be awhile before she's prepared to return to her duties. Until then, Adler and I can continue our twelve on, twelve off schedule. After that..." He glanced at the door, just to ensure it was closed, that they had privacy. He returned his attention to Jim. "She's spent almost a month running the network with me, sir. She knows too much to set free under any circumstances. Explain to me why it is we can't kill her, or lock her up?"
Jim sighed wearily, letting his chin drop a little so he could rub at his temple. "Because while she's not nearly as smart as she would have you believe, she has a very elaborate safety net in place for herself. It limits her, somewhat, but if she doesn't log in, or check in, or send a fucking carrier pigeon to wherever she's stored the very damaging information she's come into over her career, it's automatically released, and there's no guarantee that we wouldn't be on the list. That, and many, many of our connections and clients."
"And what I am telling you, sir, is if we let her leave, we will certainly be on that list, and it will probably include everything about our operations and procedures." He sighed, reaching up to rub at his eyes tiredly.
Jim shook his head. "Moran, she's had contact with her safety net this whole time. If she didn't, there would be a lot more shit flying than there is. As it is, she's had information on us for years. Not all of it was decipherable, even by the Holmes brothers - when she let her weakness for Sherlock compromise that phone, she lost much of it. But it's ridiculous to think that she never replaced it."
He swore. "This is ridiculous," he muttered. "We should just kill her and deal with the fallout before it gets worse."
"We can't deal with the fallout, not right now, not with these resources, not in this weakness," Jim snapped, losing patience, "My first thought is to get rid of someone, Moran. If you think I haven't considered how to get rid of that woman before she can spread information of mine that's important you're off your rocker."
He sighed, considering, then said suddenly, "Maybe we can fix both problems at once."
Jim raised one eyebrow, looking skeptical. "How?"
He walked forward, then, grabbing a chair and dragging it over, straddling it backwards and sitting, arms crossed on the back of the chair, thinking. "Let's keep Adler out of the loop about the teams going into the network. Get the teams in place, then we ask Adler to release some of her information about the network- Ines's network, at the moment- and let Ines scramble to handle the fallout. As soon as it's done, we kill Adler. Ines will be too busy dealing with her own shitstorm to act on any information released about us, or anyone else, for that matter, and even if she does, we'll be long gone. As soon as we kill Adler we pack out of here and enact our plans to retake the network, while Ines is weak. As for the government? We send Mycroft and my sister a little blackmail package of their own, having to do with their treatment of us over the past few years. They'll keep the government out of it. Once we retake the network we completely restructure the security- we were going to need to anyway- and we're back on top, with Adler gone for good."
Jim was silent for a beat. "I'm angry I didn't think of it myself, to be honest," he muttered, scratching the back of his head as he thought over the different paths the plan could take. "It's unpolished, but we can fix that. I'll start to work on buffing out the rough edges."
He nodded in agreement, trying not to looked too proud of the praise. "Of course, sir." He stood. "I'll start working on assembling the teams, as I said. Let me know if you need anything."
"I will, I will," Jim assured, waving his hand, already picking up his tablet. "Alert me to any situations."
"I always do," he said, taking the waved had as a dismissal and heading for the door, shutting it quietly behind him. It had been a long time since he'd felt good leaving Jim's presence, but now he felt better than good. He felt on his game, back in his element. He was thrilled.
Bring it on, Ines. We're back.
Jim dove into planning as Sebastian left, feeling a wave of satisfaction flood his system. A plan. Oh, it felt so good to have a plan.
Moran returned to the flat a half hour later, having handed the network over to Adler and picked up fish and chips from the kitchen. He scanned his thumb and elbowed his way in, shutting the door behind him with his foot. "I have food," he called as he entered.
She walked out from the bedroom dressed in pajamas and toweling off her hair. She'd decided to shower while he wasn't around so he wouldn't have to hear her swearing. "Fantastic, I'm starving," she hummed.
"Yeah, you look it," he snorted, setting the tray on the coffee table. "How was your shower? That had to be fun."
"Very unpleasant, shockingly," she snorted, with a small roll of her eyes, walking over to sink into the couch, and pulled one of the plates off the tray and into her lap. "How did planning with Jim go?"
"Well," he said, sitting down beside her. "We have a plan. One that rids us of Adler as well, in case you're interested."
She perked up immediately. "Adler? Eliminated? What the hell are you waiting for, tell me!"
He laughed, taking a bite of food just to make her wait a little longer. "We're going to use her information to weaken Ines, and while the bitch is scrambling to fix everything, we'll kill Adler. Ines will be too distracted to fuck with us, and a little well-placed blackmail means the government won't either. We exploit Ines's weakness to get the network back, and then we overhaul everything and make Adler's information obsolete."
Lorna groaned, a sound of pleasure. "Oh, thank god. What an engagement gift. Oh, I can't wait to see her dead body."
"You want to do it? I doubt Jim would mind." He hunted around on the tray for vinegar and poured some on his chips.
She gave a staged gasp, a hand going to her chest, obviously thrilled. "Can I? Oh, what a dream. This is the best day of my life, honestly."
He rolled his eyes with a snort. "Fucking drama queen."
She laughed, shrugging. "I'm only kinda joking. I would relish killing her for probably years."
He shook his head, reaching out to muss her hair. "Then by all means."
She shot him a mock look of resentment as she fixed her hair. "It's like you're trying to pick a fight or something."
He grinned. "If you weren't so broken at the moment, I would be."
"You're such a troublemaker," she said, exasperated, though smiling.
"See, with you, when I make trouble, it usually leads to really great fucking," he retorted, eating another chip.
"Which is why you decided to marry me, right?" she snorted, an eyebrow raised.
He smirked. "Eat your fucking chips, Lorna."
She made a face at him, sullenly picking up a chip, and muttered "Make me," under her breath.
He raised an eyebrow, and picked up a chip, rolling it between his fingers contemplatively, then made a nope noise and tossed it back on his plate.
"You're so funny," she rolled her eyes, then popped a chip in her mouth.
He left the rest of his food and leaned back quietly, tired. "I'm hilarious."
She snickered. "It's funny that you said that..."
He raised an eyebrow- those muscles were getting a hell of a workout- and glanced over at her. "Why?"
"Because you're not hilarious," she smirked, waiting for him to get the gag.
He tilted his head slightly, and then decided he wasn't going to get it, and closed his eyes again. "Okay."
She chuckled and finished off the rest of her food before she shifted and moved to press up against his side, resting her head on his shoulder, sighing softly.
The corner of his mouth twitched upward in a smile as he felt Lorna curl up against him. "You're like a kitten," he chuckled softly.
"Translation: cute and soft," she hummed, "And also appreciates warmth greatly."
"I was leaning toward that last one, yeah," he shot back, wrapping his arm around her with a sigh.
"Ooh, those are fightin' words," she scoffed, though she didn't move away from him.
"If we fight you lose your warm spot," he retorted with a small grin.
She grumbled. "Did you see me moving?"
"No," he conceded, opening his eyes then to look at her. She really was beautiful, even recovering as she was. He reached up to trace her ear with a gentle finger.
She sighed in contentment, very similarly to a cat, and just basked under his soft touch. Somehow it was all the better, switching from rough to soft.
He hid a laugh, just enjoying how she preened under his touch, tracing patterns along her neck.
She quietly appreciated his attention for a while, then she cracked her eyes to look at him. "You find this amusing, don't you?"
"Oh, very. Are you lodging a complaint?" he asked quietly, emphasizing the question with a gentle flick of her ear.
"No," she said, pretend sullen. She would stay still past until she was uncomfortable from the position.
He snorted, bending down to kiss the top of her head. "Now now. Don't be an asshole."
She sat up and away from him, looking aghast. "What?! Me?"
He just rolled his eyes, reaching out to shove her playfully, careful not to jar her chest. "Yes. You."
"Why?" She complained, looking very offended.
He raised an eyebrow. "You come over here, steal my warmth, practically purr when I touch you, and do nothing but gripe," he pointed out with a small smirk.
"Hey, you always give me reason to!" She protested. "With all those fighting words!"
"Oh, is that so?" he sighed, leaning back against the arm of the couch away from her. "I suppose I'll just give you your freedom then." His gaze was amused.
"Stop it, you're just being difficult," she grumbled, following him and pressing up against his side again, stubborn.
He sighed. "You're really grumpy for a fiancée, you know that?"
"Cause I just want to steal your warmth without any nonsense," she retorted, and put on a very rare pout.
He gave a long-suffering sigh, and closed his eyes. "Fine, be boring," he murmured, shifting a bit to get comfortable and relaxing.
She gave a small chuckle. "What did you want me to do to entertain you?"
"For Chrissake, Harrison, make up your mind. Do you want silence or conversation?" he groaned.
"Pleasant, non-attacking conversation, or silence," she clarified.
He sighed, and was silent for a minute or two, then asked, "Who's the most famous person you've ever fucked?"
She laughed, surprised by the question. "I feel like that one is almost too easy. Prince Harry. It wasn't an ongoing thing. Just wrong place at the right time."
"You're kidding," he said, sitting up and looking at her with startled interest, grinning. "You jockeyed the bloody prince of England? What was it like?"
"Well, there's a reason the man gets so many women in bed, and it's not just his startling charm," she laughed, "The man has some talents that will never help him in Parliament. Just... Implausibly talented hands."
"I don't know," he said with a smirk. "I'll bet it'll help him a few times, at least. Fuck. Prince Harry. Jesus."
"I know, I know," she chuckled. "What about you? Ever killed or fucked anybody famous?"
He smirked. "Not too famous. They don't usually call in a sniper for that, too many questions. Look at the Kennedy assassination. That was a fuckfest."
"And we don't even know about all of it yet. When the hell are they going to declassify that shit? It's been like 500 years," she snorted, rolling her eyes a little.
"I think your numbers might be slightly off, but whatever. Who cares, though? I don't care if the public knows, as long as I do."
"But I don't know," she sighed, wistfully. "And I'm nosy about things that could never possibly get back to me."
"Really?" he glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. "You never read Jim's file on that?"
Her eyebrows shot up. "What? We have that file? Oh my god, what the fuck do we not have?"
He laughed. "It's Jim. You honestly expected him to not look into history's greatest questions? Or at least, history's greatest questions where blackmail could be involved?"
"So is Roswell real or..." She asked, just the slightest hint of a smirk on her face.
"I guess you're just going to have to read the file and find out," he said smugly, closing his eyes again.
She rolled her eyes and settled back down against him.
It was almost five weeks before they were ready. Lorna and Jim had recovered most of their strength, and a polished plan had been laid out and adjusted and rearranged until even Jim seemed satisfied.
Moran was heading up to talk to him now, to discuss opening the game with Adler today. He rubbed his thumb absently over his trigger finger. The bandages were off, now, the skin scarred over, and the doctor had decided he was clear to remove the splint whenever he wanted. It was just a matter of taking it off and starting therapy to regain some movement. That was all.
He had decided it needed another day to heal.
He knocked with his left hand, reaching up to straighten his collar.
"Enter," Jim called, sitting on his desk, back facing the door, feet on his chair, elbows braced on his knees, and fingers holding up his chin as he observed wall behind his desk. It was a pose that Holmes would have easily taken, and he was very aware of that, but the fact was that he had spent too much time sitting down in comfortable beds recently, and he was rather sick of it. It felt good to sit on something that didn't have any give to it.
He did so, raising an eyebrow at the position but not commenting, closing the door behind him and walking over to stand at his usual place in front of the desk. "I think today might be the day, sir."
"Good, we agree," Jim said, not looking away from the papers, making absolutely certain that he hadn't been looking right past something glaringly obvious. "Adler has been getting on my nerves."
"I'm amazed it took her this long, sir," he said calmly. "Would you like to speak with her? Or should I?" He glanced over the papers on the wall as well. It was a habit Jim had picked up sometime during his 'death'. He wasn't overly fond of it, as having anything on paper like that posed an unnecessary security risk, but he was picking his battles.
"She won't require hearing it from me to do so. You're a good enough authority for her. For most people who work for me, rightfully. Half of them shouldn't even know my name..." he added on, muttering the last part. He glanced over his shoulder for a moment, taking in Moran with one look, then turning back to the papers, a smirk on his face. He knew the papers would bother his chief of security.
He nodded just a little. "I'll go speak with her, sir. I'll text you once it's done."
"Excellent. Is there anything else you needed, Moran?"
He shook his head, on his way to the door. "That's all, sir." He flicked his phone out, texting Adler that he needed to meet with her.
Irene answered the text with an affirmative and the room she was in, otherwise saying nothing. She found interacting with Moran any other way was a waste of time and energy. She would never be able to manipulate him with lust.
He rolled his eyes and shot back that she should meet him in his office, and headed that direction. He had to ask her a favor already. He wasn't going to come crawling to her physically as well.
Irene arrived a few minutes after he did, partially to make sure he knew that she had been busy. She opened the door after one brisk knock, but that was the only indication of her irritation. "You asked for me?"
He nodded, motioning her in. "Shut the door behind you, and sit."
Irene did as he asked and sit, crossing her legs and leaning back in her chair. "What can I do for you, Moran? Looking for a good wedding planner?"
"If I was, would I be talking to you? No. Moriarty has a... request." He shifted a bit, and leaned forward, elbows on the desk.
"And?" She asked, gesturing for him to go on. "What is it?"
He sat back. "If we're going to take back the network, we need them weak. Distracted. Moriarty wants you to release information on the Network."
One of her carefully groomed eyebrows rose. "Oh? That's quite the request. Now, why would I do that?"
He straightened a little. "Firstly, because Moriarty asked you to," he said, tone sharp. He paused, staring her down with that for a moment, before relenting slightly. "Secondly, because we're willing to make it worth your while."
She raised an eyebrow. "I doubt you can. I don't want to lose my insurance against my death. I don't care if I was asked nicely."
He rolled his eyes. "I'm not asking you to give up anything on us. I'm asking you to bring down Ines. Which is why I'm going to make you an equivalent offer," he said, sliding a file across the table. "Everything on or security systems and strategies, here and at the network, and a few of our more... sensitive... endeavors. Tit for tat."
She considered the file for a moment, thinking over the offer. But where was the downside, really? "Alright. I'll do it. When do you want the information released?"
"Yesterday," he said, opening his laptop. "But I'll accept within the hour."
She snorted in amusement. "Alright. Consider it done."
"Excellent. That's all." He didn't look up at her, reading through emails.
She snorted and got up, leaving without another word, already unlocking the data in her hidden cloud.
He waited for her to leave, then smiled just slightly. His time with Ines had made him better at playing people than he particularly cared for, but it had its uses. He texted Jim.
It's done. -SM
Jim read the text, and set his phone back down, moving from sitting on his desk to sitting in his chair, so he could turn his computer on and start observing the fringes of the network that he could keep his eyes on. He wanted to know the second the network reeled from the blow.
Moran was watching, too, and started to see the effects less than two hours later. A flurry of vaguely panicked memos about heightening security, and then a total lock-down of several more vulnerable branches. He stood, then, heading up to Jim's office to discuss the situation. He knocked quietly. Over the last few days they had been preparing. Shifting data to portable hard-drives, organizing quietly for a quick retreat.
Jim looked up from his files. "Come in," he said, gathering the papers together.
He stepped inside, closing the door behind him. "She's panicking. I'm ready to deal with Adler if you are."
"I'm ready," Jim said, leaning back in his chair. "Kill her however you please."
He gave a toothy grin. "I appreciate that, sir." He headed for the door, texting Harrison. Ready for some fun? Meet me in the lift. -SM
Lorna raised her eyebrows at the message, but made her excuses to leave the meeting she was in and pressed the button to summon the elevator, which opened to reveal Sebastian. "What's up? Are we fucking in the lift?"
"Nope. A different but equally enjoyable task," he said, grinning toothily and offering her a knife as the lift doors closed behind her. "Adler."
She beamed, bouncing a little on the balls of her feet as she took the knife. "Seriously?" she laughed, "Is it Christmas already?"
"Seems so," he said, smirking as he pressed the button for Irene's floor. "Try not look so giddy. She'll be suspicious."
"I'm offended you even felt the need to tell me," she snorted, wiping all the emotion from her face, even though her pulse was still jumping excitedly.
He laughed, but sobered as the lift dinged and the doors opened. He stepped out, heading down the hall to find Alder's office and knocking solidly.
"Come in."
He pushed the door open and they stepped inside. Adler was lounging on a love seat, working on her laptop, and looked up as they came in, gaining a sickening smile. "Ah, the happy couple. How can I help you love birds?"
Lorna shot an annoyed glance at Sebastian, rolling her eyes a little. She hadn't told anybody about the engagement, so it was beyond her how Irene knew - Vincent certainly hadn't aired that embarrassment. "You can help me by cutting out the attitude. It's really quite annoying."
Sebastian closed the door behind them, and shrugged at Lorna's glance. He hadn't told her. The woman just knew things. Not for long, however.
"Oh, your hubby-to-be here owes me a treat or two after today, I should think. Let's cut to the chase. What do you want?"
She sighed, pulling the knife out of the back of her trousers, where she'd tucked it away a minute ago. "To scratch an itch, Irene."
The woman tensed, then, setting the laptop aside slowly. "Alright, let's slow down and think about consequences for a moment.." she said softly. Sebastian grinned, but didn't interrupt.
"What consequences, Irene? What could your information do to me that hasn't already happened? That's the trouble with irritating people who have already known the feeling of having lost everything," she said, stepping forward slowly, flipping the knife in her hand and neatly catching it again. "You can't make them afraid of anything."
"You can still lose him," she retorted, nodding to Moran. "I saw what that did to you." She smiled with the dark sweetness of bitter chocolate. "You don't think I took that little soft spot into account in my records?"
"Everyone saw what that did to me, Irene," she said simply, stepping closer, knife still flipping casually in her hand. "Everyone knows he's my weakness. My grief was not subtle. That's not news." She stopped flipping the knife as she reached the other side of the love seat, grip closing firmly around the handle. "You can't save yourself, Irene. Die with some dignity."
She clenched her jaw, glancing past Lorna to Moran, who just smirked and shook his head. "Sorry, sweetheart. You got played. Just accept it. She's been looking forward to this."
Adler stilled, then, and then returned her gaze slowly to Harrison. "I'll die enjoying how fucked you have no idea you are ."
She just smiled in response, closed the distance between them smoothly, and planted her knee on Irene's chest, her free hand grabbing onto Irene's jaw and holding her head still. And in the next moment, she slid the blade up into the bottom of her jaw.
Irene didn't twitch, didn't scream, just stilled, and faded. Sebastian walked closer, head tilted slightly. "That was quick. I'm surprised."
"She's never done anything to me. She's just a fucking annoying bitch," she snorted, pulling the knife free and wiping it off on Irene's shirt, pushing off her chest and moving to hand him the blade, a satisfied smirk on her face. "Just knowing she'll never fucking give me that look again is enough."
He nodded, accepting the knife and tucking it away, observing the body quietly for a moment as the blood seeped into the couch. For once, he was too distracted to be interested. "We have, at most, twenty-four hours before everything goes to hell. Go get packed. We're out of here completely, like we have never been here, within four hours."
She groaned, thinking wistfully of the walk-in closet her quarters offered, and thought guiltily of trying to take some of it before the reasonable part of her brain stamped that out with a roll of its eyes. "Anyone coming with us, besides Jim?"
"Everyone," he said, looking at her. "Or, rather, I should say, leaving with us. This location is compromised. Within four hours, we will be gone."
"Oh, Christ," she huffed, running a hand through her hair. "Do we even have the manpower to scrub this place of evidence in that time frame?"
"Yes," he said without hesitation. "A lot of it has already been going on, out of Adler's sight. Most of our data has been digitized and removed. As for the physical evidence... Once our people leave, the tunnels are going to be burned, and then flooded."
"Yeah, that'll do it," she snorted, rubbing the back of her head. "Alright, I better go decide what I can't live without in that flat of ours."
He nodded. "I need to go report to Jim and put out the information to everyone else. I'll meet you there soon."
"Yeah, you got it," she agreed, distractedly, walking past him while running through a list of things in the flat that needed to be kept. Just when she was growing to like the place, too.
He texted Moriarty that Adler was dead while on his way to go light a fire under the asses of various department heads. If Jim wanted to meet with him personally, that would be his next stop.
Jim had no such desire, however, and simply busied himself packing a small bag with essentials like toothpaste and deodorant and high-quality clothes, because he couldn't depend on their next safe harbor having them.