Hello Everyone! Sorry this chapter is a little later than usual, I'll try to be more on-time tonight. :)
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I don't own Sherlock.
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The last lock gave and Sherlock collapsed to the floor with a thud. "You know John, it would have been nice if you could have caught me."

"Too bad. If you hadn't been so irritating I may have."

"Any idea how to get out?"

"Nope."

"Well then, it's a good thing that I do."
Sherlock proceeded to give John a smug smile as he led the way, kicking down the door and strolling through.

"Sherlock!" John hissed as Sherlock kicked the door. "How do you know they aren't out there aiming a billion guns at us?"

"Relax, John. It's empty. I heard a dinghy leave as you were picking my locks. There's no one here but us and maybe a couple of guys, we'll be fine."

"We're on A BOAT?! But I thought..."

"Yes, you thought we were in a warehouse. We were, but they must have moved us when I was out. They tried to replicate the surroundings of the workhouse, and they did well, the only way you can tell we are on a boat from the slight rocking and the sound. Happy now?"

As the pair walked around a corner, they each ended up with their noses practically touching the end of a very nasty looking gun barrel, each also staring at a very very nasty looking man. Sherlock, knowing that John wouldn't be able to take out any more guys raised his hands in surrender. John, slightly shocked at Sherlock's decision, but nonetheless relieved, followed. The men, seized them, dragged them back into the room and put them back into their restraints, except this time Sherlock was in the chair and John strung up. His previous wounds screamed in pain as he was forced to stretch up. As the two men headed to the door, the larger one turned around.
"This is to make sure that you don't escape again."
And with that he promptly shot John in the knee, causing John to gasp in pain and Sherlock to grimace with concern. The man then left, leaving the other two broken.

Meanwhile...

Lestrade was on a boat, ready to board the Northwesternwith a team of the best officers he could find on Christmas Day. He had set up a sniper team, and the paramedics were nearby. He was waiting for the final word to confirm that everyone was ready and in position when they heard a gunshot. Then, all hell broke loose.

"SHOTS FIRED! SHOTS FIRED! ALL PERSONELL RESPOND IMMEDIATELY!"

Every member of the police force present stormed onto the ship, followed by a huge herd of men in suits. No one knew where they had come from; they just appeared, flashed their badges and ran onto the boat.

Sherlock heard the commotion first.

"John, are you okay? I think Lestrade's here. And Mycroft too, seeing as it was all his doing."

That caught John's attention. "Mycroft? As in, your brother Mycroft Holmes. As in the people that they've been interrogating you about. How is this situation, that we are in, his fault?!"

"He gave them the information that led them to us. Well, me specifically. It's a test."

"You couldn't have told me earlier?!"

"No!"

John decided that there was only going to be one Holmes on Earth as soon as he was free.

Well, well, well... What do we think? Which Holmes has irked John more? (Don't worry, no-one's actually going to die, I promise)
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Thank you for reading!
Kimbee