THE UN BASE
Mycroft observed the alpha and beta males before him. He knew without they're saying a word what they wanted to know.
What they needed to know.
Was Sherlock alive?
"I don't know," he replied to their unasked question.
"But you do know something," John pressed him.
Mycroft tapped his umbrella on the floor a couple of times before replying to the former army doctor. "Possibly," he murmured.
"What the bloody hell does that mean?" Lestrade demanded.
Mycroft Holmes had always been a frustrating SOB to deal with. Lestrade was a Police Detective, he preferred straight talking not political doublespeak.
"Is Sherlock alive or isn't he?"
"There is a chance, yes." Mycroft finally admitted. "But I fear that the odds are slim."
John took a threatening step forward. "What are you not telling us?"
"So help me God Mycroft, if you don't spit out all you know in the next five seconds I will make you wish you were never born," Lestrade added for emphasis.
Mycroft raised a bemused eyebrow. "There's no need to resort to threats," he said in his most placating tone.
"Then tell us what we want to know," John said through gritted teeth, his hands clenching into fists.
Carefully Mycroft reached into the inside pocked of his coat and withdrew a folded manila file. He opened it and showed the contents to the two men.
"As you can see Sherlock appears to have got himself into a bit of bother."
John took one of the photos from the file. It showed an unconscious Sherlock being manhandled by two men into a car outside his flat in Baker St.
He frowned as he looked more closely at the other men. He glanced over at Mycroft "I know them don't I?"
Lestrade grabbed another photo from the file. "I'll be damned," he said. "So they weren't killed when their main factory was hit."
"Apparently not," Mycroft agreed.
Mycroft's phone went off, alerting him that he'd received a text message.
A message he quickly read before putting his phone away.
"Anything you wish to share?" John queried.
"A matter that requires my immediate attention. Now…"
"Hang on a minute," Lestrade interrupted him. "How the hell are you able to get reception on your phone? All the towers are down."
"A perk of working for the government Lestrade. If order is ever to be restored, some of us have to have the ways and means to ensure it."
John intercepted Lestrade who was about to punch the government representative. He had his own questions that needed answering. After that Lestrade was more than welcome to punch Mycroft as many times as he liked.
"What pray tell is more important than finding your brother and the two men who are responsible for the current situation we're in?"
Mycroft calmly looked at them with his usual disdain. "You see only a small part of the picture John. There is more to this than the actions of James Moriarty and Sebastian Moran. As that is the part that has the more obvious motivation for you, I will leave this file with all the information that has so far been gathered in the hope that you and the rest of the network will be able to uncover a way to bring these rogue cyborgs under control."
Their discussion was interrupted by a discreet knock on the door. John's mate Mary entered, followed by Mycroft's PA, Anthea.
"I do hope you received a better reception than I did?" Mycroft said by way of greeting.
Anthea smiled. "Much better."
Pleasantries over Mycroft was once again all business. He turned back to John and Lestrade, "Use the resources that I have given you and the invaluable tool that you have at your disposal, and there is a chance that we may be able to bring this whole retched business to an end."
"Our tool?" Lestrade queried.
Mycroft looked from one man to the other in disbelief. "Did Sherlock never tell you?"
"Tell us what?" John asked impatiently.
A smug smile settled on Mycroft's lips. "The Woman," he said by way of explanation.
"What of her?"
"She was Sherlock's 'inside man' at The MM Corp. It was she who raised concerns with him about the production of the second generation cyborgs."
"Now hang on a minute," Lestrade interjected, clearly having difficulty believing what he was hearing. "You're telling me Irene Adler works for Moriarty and Moran?"
"She did, very high up in the organization as I understand it."
"Sir, we need to leave now," Anthea noted.
Mycroft checked his watch and nodded in agreement.
"So," John said. "You can't tell us anything about what you're working on?"
"Sadly no," Mycroft replied, sounding anything but. He glanced over to Mary a moment before continuing. "Though I would like to borrow your mate. Her former training may prove invaluable."
John and Mary exchanged a look. Both knew it wasn't a request. Mary shrugged her shoulders, smiled and nodded. John knew better than to argue the point with her.
He turned back to Mycroft, a dangerous edge in his voice. "Fine. But you better make sure that she returns alive and in one piece."
"I will endeavour to do so," Mycroft replied.
