Disclaimer: See prologue chapter.
NOTE 5/5/2013: This chapter has been edited and is now chapter 2. Nothing major has changed, just has a new chapter number.
Background: See prologue chapter.
A/N: See prologue chapter.
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Chapter 2
Sherlock grinned to himself when he saw out of the periphery of his vision the bank robber move his way. Nothing gets the blood pumping like a dangerous situation.
"Look at me," said the bank robber in what he thought was a dangerous voice. Sherlock could feel the gun pointed at him.
"Isn't that a bit contradictory for the rest of the people in the bank, though. If you make one exception for me, you'll have to make it for the others," said Sherlock as if he were only pointing out that one plus one equals two. He didn't look up though. He did things on his own time like when he glanced up quickly and made his observations about how well the bank robber was watching them, which was poorly, and not the one in charge.
The bank robber shot a round into the floor just in front of Sherlock's right knee. Someone screamed and Sherlock heard one of the children let out a cry of fright, probably the one who needs to go on a diet with Mycroft, and the other child lets out a startled gasp, judging by the pitch of the voice. He was sure the others in the bank had jumped as well because he had felt both John and Lestrade twitch minutely as the bank robber fired and being who they were, it was only logical to assume that the rest of the people in the bank jumped as well and probably much more noticeably.
Sherlock still didn't look up though that was a bit more impressive than just yelling at them to shut up and sit down in a loud voice.
"Do you want to try again?" asked the bank robber.
Still looking at the ground, Sherlock asked, completely ignoring the question, "Why do people always assume that shooting the ground or ceiling makes you somehow tougher and make people more compliant to do what you want them to?"
"Because it usually does," said John and Lestrade together, before the bank robber could as if he should know that and sounding incredulous, though they really shouldn't have been.
"Quiet," the bank robber growled at John and Lestrade.
"Now that's hardly fair. You can hardly expect to be talking to me and having me answer you back without expecting others to want to talk as well. It's just not logical," said Sherlock, speaking to the floor and shaking his head as if disappointed with the bank robber for not thinking.
"You shut up too. If you recall, I told you to look up at me," said the bank robber angrily sounding as if he was going to pull the trigger of his gun again and hit something other than the floor, "and if you don't do it in the next two seconds, one of your mates will be getting hurt. Probably the one in the jumper, it offends me."
Sherlock looked up at that as John frowned, still looking at the ground; there was nothing wrong with his jumper.
"His jumper offends you?" asked Sherlock, sounding incredulous, acting as if he were only looking up at the ridiculousness of the statement and not that he was actually worried about John being shot or hurt… wouldn't do for his reputation in front of witnesses who could hold it against him.
The bank robber shrugged and was about to open his mouth to reply when his three fellow bank robbers came back out of the vault, carrying satchels presumably filled with money, pushing the two tellers and shoving them on the floor in front of the counter.
"Just shut up and look at the ground. No more talking, understand?" said the bank robber and he shoved Sherlock's head down into his chest for good measures.
Sherlock still mumbled to himself, but it was loud enough to be heard by the bank robber, John and Lestrade, "What's the point in asking a question like that if you don't want an answer?"
John and Lestrade barely managed to suppress their groans in time as the bank robber choose to ignore what Sherlock said as his fellow bank robbers walked up to him.
"Everything okay?" asked one of the bank robbers. "We heard a shot."
"Yeah," was the reply. He didn't explain further and his companions didn't ask him to.
"Let's go," said another bank robber.
"Thank you all for your cooperation. Nobody try to follow us out or you'll be hurt in a bad way!" said the final bank robber. You could practically hear the grin and excitement in his voice.
After that final pronouncement, the bank robbers all headed towards the exit and left out one of the doors to get to the lobby part of the bank.
When everyone heard the door shut to the main part of the bank, nobody moved from their positions that they were in for a moment before Sherlock looked up, cautiously, he liked breathing after all, and saw that the bank robbers were headed towards one of the other doors to leave the building completely.
"They're leaving," he said to the room at large and slowly started to stand up.
Lestrade quickly looked up, turned to the three tellers, while still on his knees, and asked, "Did one of you hit the silent alarms?"
The only female teller nodded her head that she had while the rather obese man who was beside them asked, rather angrily, "Why the bloody hell does that matter?"
Sherlock saw that everyone was slowly standing up at this point and the dark-haired boy swallowed and looked nervous and Sherlock could tell it wasn't from the bank robbery that had just taken place. His eyes kept shifting towards his so-called family and the two adults kept giving him a look that promised retribution for this bank robbery as if it were his fault. But they couldn't possibly blame this on a five-year-old child?
"Because," Sherlock said looking away from the family as a gunshot and police sirens were heard outside. He estimated they had about one minute forty-four seconds tops before things came to a head, "That means this probably isn't over yet. I hope Anderson doesn't do negations. He is a right idiot."
"Don't be ridiculous… He's Forensics," said John, sounding offhanded, while taking a quick look around the bank.
"What about Donovan?" asked Sherlock, sounding pain.
"She's at the crime scene with Anderson," said Lestrade, "where we," he gestured between himself, Sherlock and John, "are supposed to be."
Sherlock rolled his eyes and said, "This was much more exciting and is going to become much more exciting than just a plain bank robbery." His thoughts on the family's strange behavior being replaced by the upcoming hostage situation as there was no way for any of them to leave. The only way out was blocked by the bank robbers and gunfire.
"I never thought I would see the day," said Lestrade to himself.
Everyone was watching their conversation in confusion, except John, who nodded his head slightly in agreement.
"What do you mean?" asked the small voice of the dark haired boy who had been unceremoniously abandoned by his guardians when the bank robbers stormed the bank.
"Don't talk them, frea-, boy," said the obese man.
"Come here," said the woman and she gestured to the general area around her, her husband and son and then she pinched her lips together.
The boy moved closer to them but he stayed at least an arm's length away from the man.
Everyone in the bank frowned at the slip of the man's tongue, Sherlock, in particular, had a curious look on his face, his thoughts going right back to their behavior and replacing the upcoming hostage situation. Everyone knew that the man was about to say "freak" in regards to the boy and it didn't sit well with any of them along with what seemed like an unconscious gesture on the boy's part to stay out of the man's reach.
"No, that's a good question," said the bank manager, throwing a look at the man. "What do you mean and are you with Scotland Yard?" He sounded angry at the last part like he couldn't believe they hadn't tried to stop the bank robbery.
"I am, they're not," said Lestrade gesturing to John and Sherlock and that is as far as he got in his explanation before the door to the bank burst open again. The bank robbers were back and they looked mad, even through their masks.
"We're about to become hostages," said Sherlock simply as the robbers and now hostage takers pointed their guns at them again. He just knew that silent alarm was going to harm them more than help them.
Mycroft was sitting in his office enjoying a cup of tea, reading reports from his operatives and having a nice, relaxing day as his brother hasn't caused him any major problems today, unlike all week… He did not want to think in detail about all the problems Sherlock had caused him but sufficed to say, he will no longer be looking at taxis, coat hangers, chewing gum and toenails the same way again. Sherlock can get into quite the bit of trouble when bored and Doctor Watson had to work an extra shift at the surgery.
Mycroft's reading and musings were interrupted by a loud knock on his office door.
"Enter," he said, sounding distracted.
"Sir," said his assistant, who he was pretty sure was still going by 'Anthea' these days as she was fond of the name, "There is a situation developing at a bank. It is believed to be a bank robbery turned hostage situation."
"Why are you telling me this and not letting Scotland Yard know?" asked Mycroft with slight confusion but also dawning comprehension before Anthea even began to speak again. He shook his head. Not even one day…
"Scotland Yard is already on scene and I'm telling you because this bank is the last known whereabouts of Sherlock Holmes, Doctor John Watson and Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade," said Anthea, looking at her Blackberry to confirm the details that were no doubt emailed to her.
Mycroft closed his eyes, as if praying for patience and hoping, for once, that his brother and his friends managed to slip their surveillance especially knowing the statistics on hostage negotiations and survival rates, and asked, "Is it confirmed that they are in there?" He didn't open his eyes yet.
It took Anthea a moment to answer, in which time Mycroft still didn't open his eyes, before she said, "Yes, sir."
Mycroft took a deep breath, opened his eyes and said, "Right then, I had better make some phone calls… Wait here for further instructions," and then he said to himself, "I would hate to have to explain this to Mummy."
Mycroft picked up the phone and started dialing as Anthea stood there, pretending she didn't hear that last statement, fingers hovering over her Blackberry, waiting for her instructions on what to do next.