John had prepared as best as he could. The wound on his hip had begun to ache again and moving around had caused it to start bleeding again too. Taking a deep breath he threw two empty buckets he had ransacked against the wall. As planned his action caused a noise so loud it most certainly could be heard everywhere in the bunker. When the echo had died down, John began shouting and screaming. "Ow, fuck, that hurt. Ow, ow, ow!" He produced sobbing noises, trying to make them sound like he was suppressing them. Quickly he went quiet though, afraid he would miss Charlie's approach.
It didn't take long. Within a couple of minutes John heard footsteps in the darkness and saw a glimmer of light reflecting from a wall. Apparently Charlie had switched on his torch, certain he had won. It was important the man moved in the dark and John was prepared to convince the man that it was better to switch off the light. The moment Charlie came round a corner John began throwing mothballs he had discovered in a cupboard. Just as John had hoped he would, he switched off the torch and kept coming closer.
"Stay away from me," John whined, wincing at his own tone of voice that he used to convince Charlie to approach quickly for he faced helpless prey. John was moving as noiselessly as possible around the open shaft he had been sitting in front of to block it from the madman's view. He moved again and produced another sound like he was in pain.
He heard Charlie coming closer but the man walked too far to the left side. If he kept using that way he would pass the shaft. John swallowed for he did feel bad that he tried to lead the man into the trap that could prove fatal but he saw no other choice. Charlie was only interested in killing him.
Taking some more of the mothballs, John threw them in the direction he thought Charlie was moving and from the sound he had hit him. Another handful of the mothballs and he got lucky. Maybe one of them had hit Charlie in the face because the man suddenly grunted, ran towards John and fell down the open shaft. His cry of surprise was quickly followed by a nasty crashing sound, when he hit the ground down below.
All at once it was completely silent. John leaned against the wall and felt his knees beginning to shake. He allowed them to shake, knowing it was the adrenalin, which was suddenly superfluous. Switching on his own torch, John walked back and forth until he felt calm again. Then he took a deep breath, knelt down and directed the beam of the torch down the shaft. Charlie was lying motionless on his back, his eyes were closed and from the unnatural twist of his lower body he was most likely dead or badly injured. With a relieved sigh, John sat down, leaned against the wall and closed his eyes.
It had taken Mycroft a couple of phone-calls to ensure the demolition team wouldn't blow up the bunker just yet, although the area had been cleared above as well as under ground. It wasn't certain John was anywhere near where the dead bodies had been found but he understood that Sherlock needed to check out the place for himself and hopefully find a clue about the whereabouts of the doctor.
Armed with powerful torches, they walked along the pathways until they came to the niche where the two dead bodies had been found. "Cyrus wasn't killed here," Sherlock said right away.
"But where did it happen?" Sally asked.
The consulting detective kept walking back and forth, shining with his torch at the ground, the walls and even the ceiling. They were in a labyrinth of corridors, pathways and junctions and since there was no trail of blood or footsteps on the concrete floor one could follow, a search would take forever without another clue.
Sherlock kept walking back and forth while he was muttering to himself and was pulling at his hair in frustration. Mycroft who had stood to the side, not interested in getting his suit dirty, shone around with his own torch until the beam of light illuminated the three letters Carl had etched into the floor.
"I know where we might find another clue," he announced.
Sherlock whirled around and both he and Sally stared at the politician, who looked both arrogant and bored.
"The Kneeling Knight's Kingdom," Mycroft said in a tone of voice that implied both Sherlock and Sally Donovan were supposed to answer with 'of course' or something along that line. Neither one did though, whereupon Mycroft sighed and began to explain.
"When the underground was built, ruins of the old London were discovered. Down here is a room in which a huge stone sculpture had been chiselled into the wall. It shows a knight in a kneeling position. I could give you the whole legend of the sculpture but since this is neither the time nor the place for story-telling, let me just tell you that the room is called the 'Kingdom of the Kneeling Knight' or the 'Kneeling Knight's Kingdom'." With a twitch of his mouth he added, "Don't you know anything about the history of London?"
"And where is that room?" Sherlock asked, not wanting to give his brother the pleasure of seeing his younger sibling baffled by his knowledge.
"Have you found any stairs that lead further down, Sergeant Donovan?" Mycroft asked.
"Actually we have. It's the stairs that lead to the entrance of the old bunker."
"Down there you should find the room I was talking about and maybe even a clue where Doctor Watson went." Mycroft turned and began walking back the way they had come. "I rather wait outside and make sure they're not detonating the bunker with us in the vicinity after all."
Sherlock and Sally didn't reply but went running along a corridor that led to the narrow metal staircase. They exchanged glances when Sherlock pointed at traces of blood on one of the steps. More blood at the foot of the staircase and just a little drop in front of the closed door that led to the bunker that was about to get destroyed. Sherlock studied the seal attached to the bunker's door as well as the drop of blood, humming to himself. The seal held the date from two days ago. The drop of blood had a shape that suggested the person bleeding had been running, not upstairs but into the bunker.
After a moment he and Sally went further down the passageway until they came to a wooden door. Flinging the door open, Sally was immediately faced with a screeching woman who pressed a bundle of blankets to her chest.
While Sally stood in front of the woman, telling her who they were and trying to calm her, Sherlock took a look around, immediately spotting a pair of surgical gloves in a bucket, that was filled with all sorts of rubbish.
He grabbed the woman by her arms and shook her. "A doctor was here. Where did he go?"
Startled, she stopped screeching but instead of answering she was looking at Sherlock with wide eyes, clutching the bundle she held even tighter to her chest.
"Speak up, woman. Where did the doctor go?"
"He left with Charlie," she answered eventually. "Don't know where they went. I haven't seen Charlie ever since but he always come back around seven."
"Not today," Sally told her. "We need to get out of here." Sherlock took another look around and when he found no further clue all three left the room.
Surprisingly the woman, she told them her name was Martha, accompanied them without any fuss.
"You have a baby?" Sally asked Martha, indicating the bundle, while they were climbing the stairs.
Martha nodded. "Have to keep Billy wrapped up. He's cold, you know."
Sherlock studied the traces of blood in front of the bunker door as well as the blood on the staircase but kept following the two women eventually.
"Do you know where the doctor and Charlie went?" he asked Martha but the woman's only reaction was that she clutched the bundle even harder and turned her face away.
"Tell me!" he demanded but the woman didn't reply.
Sherlock was about to ask her again but Sally shook her head.
Eventually they arrived at the deserted underground station and after a few more minutes they reappeared outside.
Sherlock looked for his brother and discovered him talking into his phone another hundred meters from the station. Sally and Martha followed Sherlock. The Consulting Detective knew he needed more time. The drop of blood in front of the bunker door looked different from the other traces of blood they had found. He doubted that bunker door really had been sealed two days ago as the date suggested.
When they reached the car, Sally told Martha she would get her a doctor to have a look at Billy. Maybe a doctor could help if he was cold.
Martha immediately turned towards Sally and screamed, "The doctor who was there before, killed my baby. Charlie killed the man who came with the doctor and by now he surely has killed that terrible doctor as well." Martha sounded very pleased by the prospect, that the doctor could be dead by now.
"What?" Sherlock grabbed Martha hard and shook her, his voice full of with resentment. "Where did Charlie go with the doctor?"
Martha shrugged. "Upstairs or perhaps into the bunker. Charlie can tell you when he comes back at seven."
That very moment they heard an alarm go off; the alarm that was sounded one minute before a detonation took place.
Mycroft immediately ended his phone-call and dialled another number. The line was busy and he knew that there was no time for another call. Before Sherlock could do anything stupid, he grabbed him from behind and pulled him against his body. Sherlock turned and was just about to lash out at his sibling, when a muffled bang shook the ground under their feet. With horror Sally looked at Sherlock, whose eyes were squeezed shut while his fingers were curled into fists around the lapels of his brother's coat.