Sherlock released a breathy almost erotic sigh as the potent substance hit his system. Heroin one of the most glorious things ever concocted by science. The wonderful feeling of just floating completely separated from his body was one of the greatest perks for Sherlock.
It was in the living room chair slumped and dazed that John found his flatmate. The surgeon felt himself flinch slightly at the sight. It had been a while. Though it wasn't his first time finding Sherlock in this state but it was no less unpleasant this time. No matter how little he liked to admit it, John care a great amount about the insufferable bastard he shared this place with. John held Sherlock's hand for a moment feeling it warm, almost unnaturally so.
"Sherlock," John said. The tall lanky man barely stirred. He wondered if he should be worried. Sherlock nasty habits were not worsening it seemed. But they were not improving in any noticeable way either despite Mycroft's multiple attempts. Sherlock was better when busy... when he had people to call... Product to inspect... work to be done. But now there was nothing but the waiting. Nothing but waiting for the supply to come in. Mycroft had no new news from his contacts and their new partner Addler needed nothing from them until she had gotten her whores into the country and safely holed away in the warehouse Mycroft and Sherlock were providing. It was quiet in the flat but John knew that would last. Sherlock was a very different person under the influence of heroin. He was prone to rage and …. outbursts of emotion. The first time had been when Sherlock stumbled in completely off his head on the stuff. The man had been grabbing at John in ways that made the surgeon distinctly uncomfortable... among other things.
"John," Sherlock said in an uncharacteristically pathetic sounding whine. "I'm bored."
"Oh are you now, Mate?"
"Entertain me, John." Sherlock gripped John's hand tightly as he groggily looked up at him. Much like how John was a very different person when he was being violent. Sherlock was a very different person when he was bored. He became a touchy desperate person. Needy almost. Prone to binging on recreational drugs and cigarettes. "You and Mycroft get in a way when I entertain myself." Sherlock reached up and tugged at the collar of John's shirt weakly. He grinned that crooked grin that had captivated John since they met. "John." The surgeon was eye level with Sherlock an unusual position for the two given the height difference. And then John leaned in and kissed his flatmate. John felt those firm lips against his and the way they moved. He would keep Sherlock entertained during the downtime. It was his job.
Lestrade sucked in smoke before outside the warehouse. He could here the destruction taking place inside as the raid team turned the place. He heard the yells of the officers calling out what they had found. So far nothing too bad. A few files containing the names of old johns. Maybe some recreational drugs left by one of the whores. Nothing tying them to Irene he was certain.
"Sir, Lestrade, Sir," one of the Coppers said his head poking out of the wearehouse.
"Get on with it," Lestrade replied.
"looks, like the place was cleaned out in a hurry might be some stuff left behind though they ran fast. Think something made them skittish Inspector?"
:Maybe," Lestrade replies. He blew smoke and looked incredibly thoughtful. "These types are always the slippery ones. Got moles and informants of their own. We might just not have moved fast enough. They don't keep stationary do they..."
"Fredrickson, Sir, Eric Fredrickson."
"What did you and the boys find, Fredrickson. Anything about where they holed up now? Can't have had too much time to go to grounds." Greg new that he had given Irene plenty of time to clear the place out and go to grounds. But why not make it look good. Keep up appearances. Plus it would give him an idea of what the task forces next move was.
"Nothing much, Inspector Lestrade. But we did find one thing." Lestrade looked up his cigarette hangin from his mouth. He didn't like surprises. He stubbed out the fag and turned his attention, fully now, to the cop. "We found what looks like a cipher of some sort. One of the boys thinks it's locations. Perhaps drop points, bolt holes or, shipping pick up somewhat like that." Lestrade carefully did not react. He simply nodded.
"Good work. We might have something on this sneaky bitch let me see. Has anyone broken the cipher?"
"Not yet, Inspector. We called a boy from cryptography and he'll be waiting at the station."
"Good, Man, let me see the cipher seen a number of em know a few types." Lestrade followed the reporting officer into the warehouse and to the evidence logs. The cipher was in a thin notebook. A seemingly random collection of numbers and letters. It was familiar to Lestrade he had seen quite a few ciphers in his previous position on the force. They would need a key to crack it. Well okay they could crack it without the key it would just takes weeks. Valuable time for Irene and her new partners. "Seen the like before Fredrickson?"
"Can't say I have," the young officer replied. Lestrade had no great like of Fredrickson he was far too new. To fresh and noble it seemed. He did like the fact that he didn't question him though. Nice change from the usual sniping and backbiting. The general annoyances of the force.
"think I have. Same exact type I'm thinking," Lestrade said looking closely at the cipher. "Think it's the work of a pretty popular underground coder. Kind of like a scribe the bastard writes codes for criminals helps keep the scum from getting nicked goes by the monicker Scryptic. Tell your man from the bookworm band to start with some of the known keys Scryptic uses we've only got what like two but hey it's a fucking start." The inspector rolled his eyes as the copper went back to work. Lestrade left the cops to chase the bad lead, He knew and well the Scryptic wouldn't get them anywhere. Scryptic codes were not easy to translate it would take the techs a few days to realize that they were on the wrong track. That would be plenty of time, Greg considered. He'd talk to Addler find out how important this notebook was and then see if he was going to need a creative way of making it vanish from evidence. He certainly hoped not. He might not be under as close scrutiny as he could be given his history but people would begin looking at him hard if evidence started going missing. This was the forces first break in the trafficking circle for a while... almost a suspiciously long while. It would not go unnoticed if the one vital bit of evidence went and disappeared. Lestrade slid another cigarette between his lips as he stopped down to climb into his car. Looked like he was heading back to the hotel. He considered if it would look strange. Not particularly he figured. He lived in the area. The place had a swanky open bar. Nothing too unusual. He was going to take Irene up on her very generous offer again.
Irene was immediately grateful for the help of the Holme's boys and their resources. This business venture had scarcely begun and already they had proven themselves quite quite useful. Lestrade and his foolishness had left her in a rush to clear out the house that had been raided. She'd had needed to move no paltry amount of money and personal effects. And all the things she had made ready for the incoming shipment of girls had to be moved. All the papers. Everything. It had bee a nightmarish two days. But it had all come together. She should thank Mycroft and his brother. She should perhaps pffer them special service from some of her finest performers. Irene lifted the glass to her lips and felt the icy liquor go down smooth. One of her favorites a smooth red a bit drier than most liked but something about the perfect blend of flavors kept her keeping a bottle of it handy. And just as she was about to take another swig from her glass her door flew open and Jessica was there wide eyed and panting.
"What is it," Irene asked putting the glass down. Very little managed to shake Jessica. The slender redhead was visibly shaking as she dropped into the chair near the sofa Irene was lounging on.
"Just got a call from Enrique. They were hit by a rival and they were completely blockaded. No way for them to get out of the country. "Several of his people and the girls they were bringing for us... were casualties."
"The hell? A rival? Who? Did he tell you who? How did this happen? Enrique was undisputed! There is no a rival suddenly pops up and has the firepower to do this without somebody noticing."
"Whoever called us had no clue. His enemies have been very quiet... or dead. No one he and his people can think of."
"Something isn't right about this. Something isn't right at all. And right now is the worst possible time for things to be going wrong." Jessica nodded in agreement as Irene got up her drink forgotten. "We need to call Holmes and Lestrade. We need to find out what the hell is going on here.