Hi, still remember me, and more importantly, Kiara? Well, here's chapter 10!
The Darkness isn't all surrounding. There is some light, grey in black, exactly like my clothes. Grey with black. I don't know how long Sherlock and I are waiting, but suddenly the moon appears. The big white circle is complete, and for a moment I look up in amazement. Then the rational part of my brain kicks in and I pull Sherlock back in the shadows. As beautiful as the moon might be, it's silver light would betray us to everyone looking, even my special clothes wouldn't be of much use. Sherlock hadn't agreed that the clothes were better than just black, so he was wearing a suit with a black shirt.
"Sherlock, what's the plan now?" My voice was barely a whisper, barely audible. Of course I knew the plan, but not the fine details because I just hadn't listened.
"We go along here. There are two entrances, well, one door and a window at the right height. We'll go through the door. They shouldn't be here for another two hours, we'll wait inside for them." At my doubting look he rolls his eyes.
"Mycroft has checked the surveillance twice, they really aren't here. I'll go first, you have the gun?"
I hold up his little handgun and he grins, then turns around and walks towards the door. Despite his confident words, he is careful, quiet and stealthy. The lock isn't really a hindrance for him, I watch fascinated as he twiddles with the hairpin. Only seconds later, we are in.
The house we are in is dark and not very inviting. Bleak, boxes standing around, paper over the windows. I'm two meters behind Sherlock. Watching his back. Looking around. Searching. Because there is something strange here. I can't say what it is, but whatever it is, even though Sherlock might not be consciously noting it, he is tense, frowning, unconsciously.
"We didn't expect you here, Mr Holmes. Last we heard, you were supposed to be dead."
The cold voice is unexpected. Smug, cold, dark, merciless. I don't hear my name, so I do the only possible thing. I slink back into the shadows of a room that we just passed, praying that Jennifer Stone, the owner of the voice, didn't notice me.
Sherlock freezes. His guard was down for one second, as was his gun, and this is the punishment. Slowly he turns around and looks at the thread who is standing in a lit doorway. The light blinds him for a second, so he only reacts when he hears the safety click. Deliberately the detective raises his hands in the air, clicks the safety on his own gun and carefully walks towards the woman. He doesn't try to flee, even though, to my practised eye, the slight shaking of his hands is clearly visible. Because there is more to consider. More on the stake than just his own life. There is John. John, who will be killed because Sherlock didn't die that fateful day in June.
I can only watch as Stone hits him with the gun and his body falls limp to the ground.
An hour later I am finally out of the house. I know there is no chance of freeing Sherlock from the inside, so I need another way, but I don't dare to move to quickly. Every sound could kill both Sherlock and me.
The moon is hidden behind clouds again, so I can barely see my own hand in front of me. I jump when I suddenly hear a scream. Sherlock's dark baritone is strained, and the sound stops just as suddenly as it started. I cringe and try not to imagine what happened.
The shouting from inside the house becomes audible, and then Sherlock screams again. This time he doesn't stop. My fingers are shaking as I fumble for my phone. Only because of speed-dial it is possible for me to call Mycroft. He picks up after the second ring, annoyed.
"Kiara? What's going on?"
"Sherlock. They have Sherlock." My voice is shaking, but I manage to calm my heartbeat until I'm not hyperventilating any more.
"I'll try to get him out. But you need to come as well, now!"
"Obviously." With that, the phone clicks, and I am left alone once more.
The moon came out a bit, giving just enough light to look for entrances, when I hear the shouting once more. Sherlock stopped screaming a few minutes ago, but now I fear for him again. Strange, when I think about it, that my view has changed so dramatically, from Sherlock being Father's nemesis and now him being a friend. I could say best friend; I don't have any other ones.
Sherlock's voice comes to my mind in the moment I see the window. "There are two entrances, well, one door and a window at the right height." Maybe this is it. Surprisingly it is open and I climb in as quietly as possible.
Sherlock starts screaming again and leads me directly to the room he is in. The door is barely open, just a crack, so I am hidden as I look inside.
Sherlock is sitting in a metal chair facing my way, wrists cuffed to the armrests. They took his jacket off him and his shirt, but left him his trousers and shoes. On his bare chest there are little two little plasters with black wires coming from them, leading to somewhere behind Sherlock. He doesn't see me though, as his head is thrown back. The pain is visible in his face and his agonized screams cut through me, but I can only help him if I concentrate.
Smith and Stone are standing between Sherlock and me, looking towards me, so they can't see me. The lamp in the room is on the side, the clearly visible shadows show that neither of them are carrying a gun, but in Stone's hands there seems to be a remote. Now I understand why Sherlock is screaming, electricity.
My only chance is to be quick, really quick. I don't know how high the voltage can be, so I decide to take Stone out first. Smith is the one shouting at Sherlock, but he doesn't seem to be doing anything else, so he'll be second.
I burst into the room; with a high kick to head Stone drops to the floor. Sherlock's still screaming, the electricity is still cursing through him, but now Smith is trying to attack me. I lift the gun and don't hesitate. The bullet goes straight through his fore-head and he crumbles to the ground.
Now I have time for Sherlock. The remote is still in Stone's hands and when I crouch down to turn the electricity off, she grabs my neck with both hands. The sudden pull makes me lose my balance and she pulls me down, rolling so she is on top of me. With one hand she pushes my hand with the gun down, putting her knee on the pressure-point just as Watson did more than a year ago. Automatically my hand opens and she takes the gun and throws it not far away, so she could reach it, but not me.
Quickly she secures my other hand the same way, and even though I do struggle, I can't throw her off, just as I hadn't been able to with Watson.
"You're Moriarty's girl, aren't you? Never would have thought you'd be on the side of Holmes, but I guess, things can change, don't they?" I narrow my eyes at her and try to throw her off again, but suddenly I can feel cold metal at my throat. The knife is long, thin and very sharp, and without doubt she won't hesitate to use it. I stiffen and lie still, glaring at her but I don't dare to do anything else.
Then we hear something unexpected. A car. Driving towards the house, obviously trying to be silent but not succeeding at all. I groan. Of course, Mycroft wouldn't only ruin his rescue by being loud, he'd also be in great danger.
Stone smirks.
"So the brother knows about Holmes being alive as well. Let's wait for him, shall we?" She leans forward slightly and horrible pain shoots through my arms, but there is nothing I can do about it, so I don't even make a sound. Not that it would help Mycroft and his men to find us. Sherlock's still screaming, that is enough.
Not even a minute later the door bangs open and there are armed man and Mycroft behind them. I can practically see Mycroft's eyes widening, as Sherlock is there in the chair, not even noticing any of us, and me lying on the floor, being threatened by Stone. Only slightly awkward.
"Stone, let them go now. You can't escape, this place is surrounded." Mycroft's voice is smooth and confident, but Stone just laughs.
"You want information from me, obviously. The guns are just a ruse, you can't afford to shoot me. So put them down, on the floor." Her voice is cold and harsh. "If you don't - " The weight on my wrists gets bigger and I cry out in pain, then Stone has the remote in her hand. " - I will kill Moriarty and your brother."
Suddenly, Sherlock stops screaming. Stone must have turned the electricity off, even though I have no idea why.
The detective's eyes move around, taking in the situation, Mycroft, his men, me.
"Kiara?" His voice is rough and very quiet.
I don't answer. After a second, Stone turns the electricity back on, glaring at Mycroft.
"For every second that your men disobey my orders, I am going to turn the voltage up. Hurry up, you only have ten seconds." Sherlock tries not to make a sound but after a few seconds, he fails.
"For god's sake, Mycroft!" I shout, not really caring what Stone thinks about it. "Tell them to drop the guns, you cold-hearted bastard!"
This seems to pull Mycroft out of his reverie because I can hear the guns clattering down. Instantly, Sherlock stops screaming again, only panting loudly.
"So, I want you all to-" Stone is speaking, and I have made my decision. Sherlock's and my only chance of coming out of here alive is now, and if I die, it doesn't matter, because I tried.
I push up again and manage to throw the surprised and distracted woman off me. Slightly stunned, she isn't quick enough to press the button on the remote, so I pull it out of her hands, along with the knife. Then the pommel of the knife gets acquainted with Stone's temple and this time, she really is out cold. Within seconds I am next to Sherlock, pulling the electrodes off his chest and then picking the cuffs with my hairpin.
Sherlock is relatively okay. But it seems that I underestimated what he went through.
"Kiara," he says and when I don't answer instantly, he repeats it.
"Kiara, are you all right?" I am very confused. He is the one who was tortured, why is he asking me?
Sherlock, Mycroft and me are walking towards Mycroft's car. Sherlock was okay in the end, he had just been quite confused because he hadn't noticed what had been going on. Otherwise he wasn't hurt at all. I, on the other hand, was hurt. Stone must have caught me with her knife just below my eye without me noticing when I had pushed her off, which was the reason for Sherlock's worrying.
"Where is she going now?" My voice cuts through the surprisingly friendly silence, and after a few seconds Mycroft answers.
"We'll be questioning her in a safe-house. About other threads and information about your father's web."
He has only barely finished his answer when I step on a stone. It isn't a big stone, but my exhaustion and slight blood-loss make me slower. And as I'm falling to the ground, warm darkness surrounds me.
Okay, I hope you liked it, please review!
I'm sorry for the long wait, but as I am not writing this story in the correct order, I have already written a huge part for something about (in the story) eight months away, but not this part. Bear with me, please!