Okay, we move onto chapter 2... this is where stuff starts to go awry for the crew. Thanks to everyone who looked at my story, I really appreciate it!
Again, there is no way that I would ever have the rights to Sherlock... if only...
Sherlock knew that something was wrong as soon as he got to the front landing. There was a distinct clink of a gun loading, and he quickly grabbed Mrs Hudson's collar to pull her back into her flat. "Stay. Here." His voice was almost a whisper as he quickly indicated to John what exactly was wrong before pulling out a handgun from underneath the umbrella stand. Sherlock went to the door, and turned back to John, who had pulled out his own fire arm. Together, they silently counted down from three, and as Sherlock opened the door, John aimed at the nearest perp, and was startled to find a very stressed and sweaty Molly Hooper on the other end of his sight. Sherlock acted quickly, hauling Molly into the flat, slamming the door shut and pulling her into Mrs Hudson's flat and shutting the door, with John bringing up the rear. As Sherlock pulled a coffee table, couch and fridge in front of the door, a spray of gunshots could be heard flying throughout the front landing. Heavy footsteps could be heard going up the stairs and a boot slamming into the door that led to Sherlock's flat. Sherlock leaned towards Mrs Hudson and a near hysterical Molly. "Don't. Move. A muscle." His voice was barely a breath as he and John moved towards the nearest exit, counted, and they both burst through the door, only to be met by half a dozen goons.
"Now, John!" Both Sherlock and John shot at the same time, taking down two of the closest men, but leaving four very large, very disgruntled looking men who disarmed them almost immediately. Mrs Hudson clamped her hand over Molly's mouth when Sherlock got hit in the head by the butt of a gun, desperately trying to keep their hiding place, behind an overturned dining table, secret.
Sherlock felt the contact between the butt of the gun and his head. He landed one last punch on the man's jugular before his vision blackened and he crumpled to the ground. John, seeing his best friend fall, fought harder, but the battle was between him and seven men, as the goons upstairs had run down after finding the flat empty and hearing the commotion downstairs. John grabbed the closest man by the shoulder, and drove his knee into the man's ribs. The crunch was audible, and the man went down in a shriek of pain. As John turned to the next man, he noticed that the man was a left hander, which made him easier to take down. As he dodged a blow aimed for his head, John kicked out the man's knee and threw him into the next guy who was about to make contact, causing the first man to be hit in the nose by his friend's knee and the second man to break his leg. John turned, enjoying the battle, although not the circumstance, but nevertheless prepared for more. What John had not factored in, however, was the fact that he still had four men to take down. And they all had their guns trained on him. Sighing, he gave up, put up his hands, and surrendered. The men scrambled to securely cable tie John's hands behind him. One of the men (presumably the head of the operations team) put his hand up to his ear.
"We got 'em, boss... Yep, both of them are here, just has he said...The girl rabbitted, should we go after her? ... Understood." The man turned to John and grunted. "Up. Go." John was all but dragged to his feet and out the door, to a waiting van out the front. He turned around, and noted that Sherlock was being lugged along. As they got to the van, John got unceremoniously thrown in, and Sherlock landed on top of him. There was a man in the back of the van, a guard, obviously waiting for them. He produced two syringes, and John felt the prick of a needle until the world faded to black.
So now you've read up to the actual interesting bits, what did you think? I'd really appreciate a review right now (really, just 1!) so please do let me know. More should be coming tomorrow.