Chapter 8
Molly was ten minutes into her run when she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. She was well into her second kilometre and running easily, and her mind was on Sherlock and their disagreement. Running seemed to help her think, she'd discovered, and improved her mood. She understood his position, she mused, but she was very certain that in this case, she was right. She sighed deeply and kept running. Then her phone vibrated again. Frowning, she pulled it out of her pocket. She had a missed call and a text message from him. She immediately felt guilty, concerned he'd think she was ignoring him, and so she slowed her pace and opened the text.

'Moran right behind you. Run fast, don't stop. Weave around trees. I'm coming Molly.

Molly's heart leapt with fright and then her weeks of intensive training raced through her head. She dived and rolled automatically, and just as she did, a bullet hit the ground, right where she had been positioned a split second beforehand. She kept moving, rolling herself rapidly along the ground to shelter behind a tree trunk. She felt her heart racing and her breathing accelerate, but she quelled the 'fright mode' just like the FBI trainer had taught her, and instead, she instantly summoned 'fight' and, sucking in her breath, she jumped up and took off rapidly through the trees, doing exactly what Sherlock had told her to do.

Thirty metres behind her, Sebastian Moran stared in shock at her racing off like a gazelle through the trees. He could not quite believe that he had missed. She'd even slowed to look at her bloody phone. He blanched, realising what had happened. Holmes was on to him. That meant his exit plan out of Quantico was compromised. It meant a swat team was scrambling at this very moment, and it meant his target was currently racing through the trees like bloody Usain Bolt. It also meant that Sherlock Holmes was right behind him and he swung around full circle, half expecting to see him standing behind him. He hissed in exasperation, having to make a decision. Go back for Holmes and kill him, or, go after his girlfriend. He thought of Jim and his heart ached and he knew what to do. He turned back in the direction of Molly Hooper.

His target had gained ground in those vital seconds of indecision; a lot of ground. On top of that, he couldn't get a fix on her, because she was ducking and weaving all over the place, so he slung his rifle over his shoulder and increased his pace. Sherlock though, was hot on his heels and unlike Moran, he was gaining ground. Michael had heard the gunshot too, and he changed direction, turning towards the sound of the gunshot. Then he rethought and veered slightly further north, hoping to head him off. He felt sick with fear, that Moran had shot Molly, and then he heard another shot and grinned as he ran. 'Good on you girl!' he thought to himself, 'he bloody missed'. Sherlock heard it too and swallowed a surge of hope and pride as he ran towards the sound.

Molly gasped in shock as the second bullet slammed into the tree trunk, inches away from her ear, causing some bark to ricochet and hit her in the side of her jaw. Her hand flew up to assess the damage and some blood pooled into it. She knew immediately that it wasn't too serious, because of the slow drops of blood, so her arteries were intact. She ducked down and ran hard and fast, wondering darkly whether the next bullet would kill her. On she ran, and she imagined that she could hear him behind her, so certain was she that her luck would run out. She went into a zone of twisting, darting, and weaving, and she knew she was expending an enormous amount of energy, but her adrenaline was right up and it seemed to give her wings. On and on she went, thanking her lucky stars that the track was so meandering, and that the trees provided so much camouflage, and the longer she lasted the more she began to hope that she could outpace Moran.

When she estimated she'd run about 4.5 kilometres, she made a rapid evaluation. She knew the track would soon begin to curve to her right, as It was a circular route, ultimately leading back to the car park. It bordered the 'Body Farm', where cadavers were placed in various stages of decomposition, and was only about two square kilometres, but that terrain had less cover then the woodlands run, so she decided to continue on the running track route and stay among the cover of the trees. So she did, and ran on. Suddenly her feet were pulled from under her and she landed in an undignified heap, bending her knees to break her fall, just like the FBI trainer had drummed into her.

She opened her mouth to gasp and a small hand clamped over her lips. Then Mary Watson whispered in her ear. "Hi Molly, don't say a word and stay down. When I tell you, run twenty metres that way. Mycroft's waiting for you." Molly froze for a split second and threw her arms around her friend. She nodded into her neck and said breathlessly, "He's right behind me, Moran, and Sherlock's right behind him, please don't let him get killed Mary."

"That's why I'm here, my darling. Stay down now." Mary hugged her quickly and then turned and lay on her front and waited, revolver pointed out in front of her. Minutes later Moran thundered into sight, finger on the trigger of his rifle and scanning for Molly. Still Mary waited and he moved forward, straight at her. Just as she took aim, Sherlock's voice rang out from behind him.

"You get one chance to drop your weapon Moran. Just one." Moran froze and then swung around, rifle up and aiming for Sherlock. Two gunshots rang out at the same time, Sherlock's bullet hitting Moran in the heart and Mary's hit him in the back of his head, and he died even before he dropped to the ground. Sherlock ducked behind a tree. "Is that you, Mrs Watson?" Mary stood up and brushed off her clothes dramatically.

"Yes, Mr Holmes, you can come out now." She teased. Then Michael scrambled into the clearing from the east.

"I missed the bloody party, didn't I? Howaya Ninja." He grinned at Mary. She tittered and waved at him in greeting. Mycroft appeared at Molly's side out of nowhere, and kneeling down beside her, he took her chin gently in his hands, rotating her head slightly to examine her jaw. He winced a little and clucked sympathetically.

"That'll bruise badly but it's not fatal, bloody well done Molly!" She smiled weakly at him and lay back flat on the ground, holding her head in her hands and and sucking in deep breaths. Sherlock flew to her side and dropping down to her, he gripped her arms and shook them gently.

"Molly! Are you ok? What's wrong? Are you hurt?" He held up a hand without looking and Mycroft handed him his linen handkerchief. He pressed it against her chin and held it there as Molly's big brown eyes stared at him. "Say something Molly!" he pleaded and she erupted into a smile. Gripping his arms tightly, she whispered breathlessly,

"Give a girl a chance to catch her breath darling, I've just ran my fastest 5K yet." Sherlock expelled an incredulous laugh.

"Molly Hooper, you're bloody fantastic!" They stayed grinning at each other as the swat team swarmed around them. One of the men approached Moran and removed the rifle, which had twisted under his body.

"Sniper down!" he declared, stating the obvious, a statement that Sherlock couldn't resist whispering to Molly and she giggled. McBride arrived and approached Mycroft, smiling at the couple who were still gazing and grinning at each other. He rolled his eyes at Mycroft and the two men laughed.

"Adorable, aren't they?" Mycroft teased, and Sherlock rolled his eyes and then stood up, lifting Molly with him. "About time you showed up brother dear, considering you've been in Quantico all day." Mycroft spluttered back, "You knew?"

"Of course I bloody knew!" His voice softened as he addressed Molly again.

"Can you walk Molly?" She nodded and linked her arm around his for support, because she was beginning to tremble slightly.

"I think the adrenalin is wearing off Sherlock," she whispered to him and he gripped her around the waist. As they turned to leave, the men of the swat team stood ramrod straight and began to clap for Molly. To a man, they knew that she had outrun a world class sniper for five long kilometres, and they honoured her bravery. A lump rose in Sherlock's throat and Molly blushed, tears pooling in her eyes. She turned and beamed at them all, deeply touched, and then Sherlock led her through the Body Farm and over to a waiting ambulance.

"Just let them give you the once over Molly." She shook her head and he sighed in exasperation.

"No Sherlock, I just want to go home with you. Can you ask the others to call in when they're finished? I want to see everyone and I want to hold your hand. That's all I want."

"Alright Molly. Whatever you say." He stopped and pulled her firmly into his arms, and holding her tightly, he kissed the crown of her head. She felt him shudder, and she gripped him tightly, resting her head on his chest for long minutes.

"I'm alright Sherlock, really I am. You saved me, darling. I got your text, I reacted instantly and dropped, and he fired and missed." She shuddered in his arms and looked up at him. "Imagine that! The difference a split second can make." She gulped back tears then as the reality of what she had so narrowly escaped hit her. "That would have been his kill shot Sherlock. After that first miss he scrambled and he failed." Sherlock looked down at her and gripped her face in his hands, thumbing away errand tears.

"It was that close? Christ Molly! I'm sorry, so sorry." She shook her head adamantly.

"No! Don't you apologise to me. We did it Sherlock. We beat the bastard." He shook his head in denial.

"No. You did it Molly."

"Yes, I did, but I would be dead now without you." She sighed in frustration. "You have to stop blaming yourself for everything that happens to me Sherlock. You advised me to train in self defence and to start running. I took that advice and I outran a killer, a killer you warned me was coming." She laughed gently. "You can't be with me all the time and I've got pretty adept at looking after myself." He laughed ruefully.

"That you have." He turned her then to walk towards the military vehicle ahead, snaking a supportive arm around her waist, and hugged her tightly to him as they approached the SUV. "You never cease to amaze me Molly. I'm incredibly proud of you, you know."

"Thank you. You know something Sherlock? I'm pretty proud of myself." As he helped her climb into the car she gasped suddenly, and gave him her 'Molly smile,' the one that he adored, all doe eyed and dimples. "Oh!" she exclaimed with glee, "do you know what this means?" and he chuckled as he snapped her seatbelt on.

"Yes my darling, we're going back to Ireland."