A car, should be a large government-ish looking sedan, will be waiting for you near the intersection of Glencross and Smyth at 5 pm. My associate Paul will be looking for you. –A
Got it. Thanks again. –M
You're welcome. Send me confirmation once you're on board. –A
Will do. –M
Molly stuffed her phone back in her bag and hurried down the street. She had about ten minutes before she was to meet at the rendezvous point but it was just one street away. She spied a coffee shop and ducked in to buy a bottle of water so that she could take her emergency contraception pills. She didn't know why she kept putting it off.
Well, that wasn't entirely true. There was some biological crazy sauce marinating her brain. A rather instinctual but illogical part of her actually wanted to stake a claim to Sherlock like a lioness in heat. It was bat-shit crazy but she got all hot and bothered imagining being knocked up by him.
Molly rounded the corner onto Glencross Street and immediately saw a dark grey BMW idling at the curb. Well, that was quick, she thought. She glanced down at her bag. She would have to take the pills on the way to wherever it was she was going. She slowed her approach to the sedan with its almost blacked out windows. She chewed her lip. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. She came to a stop and stared at the vehicle for several moments. Just as she turned to go, the passenger's window slid down.
"Molly Hooper?" A male called from inside.
She stretched her neck but could not see the man's face from her perspective. She took a hesitant step towards the car. There was something familiar about the driver's voice but she couldn't put her finger on it.
"It's alright, Ms. Hooper, my name is Paul. Anthea sent me. We have lots of fun things planned for you. The back door's unlocked. Hop on in."
Molly sighed. She felt bad for having put Anthea through all this trouble. Perhaps she should just stick with her plan and get out of town for a few days. Before she could change her mind, she climbed into the back seat of the waiting car and buckled herself in.
"All set?" The driver asked without turning around.
"Um, yes, just give me a second. I just need to get something from my purse . . ."
Molly frowned down at her bag. She pushed her wallet aside and dug around but the little white bag holding her prescription was . . . missing! She let out a heavy gasp. He didn't!
As her thoughts spun, Molly was jerked back in her seat. The car's tires chirped as it sped from the curb. She looked up wildly and found herself riveted by the chilling blue-eyed gaze of Sherrinford Holmes in the rear view mirror.
"Oh, what's the matter, Miss Molly? Did you forget something?" He grinned. "Don't worry, I'll take care of everything."
"What do you mean she never showed up?" Anthea shouted into her phone.
"Sorry, Ma'am, I waited a half hour. I didn't see her."
"Crap . . . crap!"
Anthea pressed end on her phone and tried dialing Molly Hooper but it went immediately to voicemail. She fired off a text.
My driver said you were a no show. Is something wrong? –A
Anthea paced her office for several minutes awaiting a response. With each passing second, she felt more ill at ease. Finally, after what felt like the longest three minutes of her life. Her phone vibrated with a message.
Everything's grand! I caught a different ride. See you in the next life. –M
"Oh, God! Oh, God. Sherlock's going to kill me!" She whispered.
Sherlock's eyes were drawn to the door of Mycroft's office. Anthea was not known for such a weak knock, if she knocked at all. She normally breezed in and out of his office like the swell and recession of a tide.
Mycroft raised his brows and swivelled his head. "Come in!"
Anthea stepped into the room and closed the door. Her eyes grazed Sherlock with trepidation. Mycroft stood up and rounded his desk.
"What is it? What's happened?"
Anthea's eyes lifted and met Sherlock's again. "I'm sorry, Sherlock. I w-was trying to help . . ."
The hairs on his neck prickled. He pushed himself up from his seat as Anthea first showed Mycroft her phone then extended it his way. Mycroft's lips parted in surprise and with a quick swing of his arm, he ushered her behind him.
Sherlock scanned the messages Anthea had exchanged with Molly. He almost couldn't comprehend what he read. The final cryptic reply could only mean one thing- Sherrinford had his pathologist. With a roar he threw Anthea's phone across the office. It smashed into several pieces and fell to the floor.
Mycroft swallowed. "Now, there is no use getting emotional . . ."
Sherlock breathed heavily out his nose and mouth, trying not to explode. He stepped towards the pair of them angrily. Mycroft backed away with Anthea tucked safely in his shadow.
"Sherlock, we will find her, I will throw everything at my disposal into it . . ."
He kicked a chair over. "Shut up! Shut up! You are useless, useless! Huu-uhh . . ."
His knees buckled and he went down. He clutched the sides of his head.
"Y-you have failed me," his voice was almost a wail. "I did everything you asked. I gave you e-everything. You have failed me at every turn."
Mycroft's voice shook. "I am not invincible. I did my best but there's only so much I can do. You know what you need to do, brother. You can get her back. You need to solve this thing . . . Mary . . . Sherrinford. Solve it."
"I-I don't want to play."
"You do not have a choice. Make a move!"
Molly repositioned herself but she could not get comfortable. Her left arm ached from being stretched behind her with her wrist zip-tied to the chair back. With a shaky breath, she picked up a pawn off the chessboard and moved it just a single space forward.
"T-there."
Sherrinford frowned. "Pathetic!"
He picked up his knight and slammed it down on the board. Molly felt her eyes sting. She glanced around the room through a watery curtain. No matter how many times she surveyed the space, she could not determine much about it. She could be in an apartment, a seedy hotel room, or someone's basement. There was a narrow window that had been painted black on the wall opposite, a bare bulb as the only light source on the ceiling and minimal furniture that consisted of a small card table and two chairs they occupied.
She was exhausted. They had been playing games for hours. First poker, then Monopoly and now chess. The only way she had found to cope with the bizarre contests Sherrinford forced her to engage in was to be as frustrating as possible.
"Your turn again. God, what does he see in you? You're not bright at all."
She scooted her queen across the board. She would sacrifice it early. It was a move she'd successfully pulled on her father once while she sat with him during one of his dialysis sessions. Why? Because it was nuts, almost certain to lose you the game, but effective if a person thought you weren't smart enough to pull it off.
Molly watched Sherrinford closely. He suffered from a supreme over-abundance of arrogance. He gave no weight to the fact that she'd been dealing with a Holmes for years.
"I-I have to go the bathroom," she complained.
"Be quiet."
He made another move. She countered with an illegal repositioning of her bishop.
He pounded his fist on the table. "You skipped to the black! You cannot move that piece that way."
She frowned. "Erm, whoops, I mixed it up with the knight. My bad."
She pretended to be flustered and threw her queen into the line of fire. With a self-satisfied grin, he knocked her queen out with his king.
"Pfft, not even a challenge."
Molly feigned vexation. She furrowed her brow then made several false starts as if she couldn't decide which piece to move next.
Sherrinford eyes rolled away until he wasn't even watching the board anymore.
"This is complete waste. You were right. I overlooked you because you have all the processing power of a Hello Kitty calculator."
Molly narrowed her eyes then. She ran her tongue over her teeth and reached for her bishop. She snatched it up then plopped it down unceremoniously.
"Check mate."
His head rotated back with his mouth slightly aghast. His eyes darted from the board to her face and back again several times.
"It's not possible," he snarled.
Molly raised her brows. "Yeah it is, you dumb prick. Get over yourself."
Sherrinford shoved back from the table. He stood and clutched a hand over his eyes. She could tell by his sharp intake of breath he was in pain.
"Do you usually suffer from headaches?" She asked.
Sherrinford sniffed and then hacked a few times. Molly watched as a trickle of blood escaped his nose. He sniffed again and threw his head back before spinning on his heel and storming from the room. The door slammed shut and the lock slid in place.
Molly wasted no time. She shot up, swung the chair up in her grasp and dashed to the window. She couldn't budge it from the sill. She wasn't even certain she could with both hands free. She threw a glance back to door. There was no time. She smashed the legs of the chair through the glass. A dark city avenue illuminated dimly by street lamps awaited on the other side. Her stomach leaped into her throat as she looked out the window to the sidewalk a whole story below.
Behind her she heard the door rattle. What was on the other side scared her more than a fall from this height. Her heart hammered in her chest and she panted frantically. She stuck one leg, then the other out the window. Broken glass clawed at her clothes and pain sliced through her leg. Just as the door to the room burst open, she leapt.
Her plummet was brief. The chair attached to her arm didn't come out the window, instead it crashed against the frame and jarringly interrupted her fall. A knife of pain radiated down Molly's arm as her body jerked violently from where she was still connected via a tie strap.
"Gaaa!" She cried.
She scrambled against the brick wall with her feet but there was nothing to gain traction on. She heard shouts from several different directions. Then the tie-strap snapped. The shift in inertia caused her stomach to heave. She fell, scraping against the bricks on the way down and slammed into the sidewalk with her hip and her shoulder taking the brunt of the impact.
"Miss! Miss! Are you alright?" A voice shouted.
Molly rolled sideways. Her whole body was numb except for her wrist which felt as if a miniature bomb had gone off in the joint. She opened her eyes and looked back up towards the window where a shadowed head receded into the building.
"Miss!" A young, blonde man loomed overhead.
She grabbed his jacket and wheezed. "Please, get me out of here!"