The dark-clad guy approached Greg and the two men, his hand to his ear as if he was listening to an earpiece. He nodded an acknowledgement to John and Mycroft before turning to Greg.
"Our ears indicate that there is little sound in the room at the moment. This is a good thing. We've ascertained, as best we can, the positions of the subjects within the room. There are 2 mobile subjects, which we take to the be perpetrators, and 2 immobile ones, likely the victims. Do we have any intel on the second victim yet?"
Greg nodded, briefly sideways glancing and John and Mycroft who were listening intently.
"From CCTV and a missing persons report that came in this evening, we believe the second victim to be Chrissie Stone. Fourteen years old. Her father reported her missing when she didn't come home from school today. He was... " he chose his words carefully, "... he was 'reassured' by uniform, when he reported it, that it was too early to report a girl of this age missing, but it appears, from the photo he provided and the description from the hotel receptionist, that she may be the person inside. The girl on the hotel desk said that she arrived looking edgy and nervous with a single white male who we believe to be Jim Moriarty. She just dismissed the couple as a teenager getting up to no good with an older man." The detective inspector sighed. It wouldn't be the first time.
"Nobody in the hotel actually saw Sherlock... " Greg's eyes darted towards Mycroft as he mentioned his brother's name. Mycroft's eyes were fixed on the handle of his umbrella, but Greg could tell that the man was absorbing all the information, "... or the second perpetrator, still an unknown subject, enter." He shrugged, exhausted by the events of the day which fell just a little too close to home with the involvement of Sherlock.
"Your men are in place, Mark?" Greg asked, noticing that movement around him had stopped and that an eerie hush had fallen over the area. He looked down the street towards the police cordon and back again at John who had begun to shuffle his feet anxiously.
"They are." Mark nodded, squaring his shoulders and readying himself.
"Right," Greg's voice was firm and authoritative, "Let's do this before suspicions are aroused. Give the command."
The whole operation was massive. Greg had been astounded at the level of Mycroft Holmes' influence when it came to mobilising the tactical unit. It seemed like overkill to the detective inspector, but he appreciated that there was a definite danger to both Sherlock and Chrissie, and Mycroft was determined that this situation would end and end fast.
Four of the tac team made their way up the stairwell, noiselessly pushing open the door to the 6th floor and silently creeping along the hall towards room 621. Silent commands and mutual understanding readied them at the doorway, weapons armed.
Additional men stood at all exits: fire escapes, elevators and main doors. Men were also placed in the adjoining rooms, 619 and 623, mostly for listening purposes but also as back up.
The four upstairs watched intently, focused on their one goal: to get the two victims out safely and bring in the perpetrators. They would be easy to differentiate between. The victims were, they had been informed, immobile and possibly restrained. The 'perps' would be the other two. They had instructions to ensure that the two captives were rescued 'at any cost'.
Nobody had any doubts about what that meant.
One of them began a five-finger countdown...
One - Sherlock took a long, steadying breath. One that could be attributed to general anxiety and wouldn't give Jim or Sebby cause for suspicion.
Two - He clenched and unclenched his fists, doing a mental check of his body, ensuring circulation in his extremities.
Three - All extremities present and correct. Sherlock was as certain that he could be that his legs would cooperate.
Four - He noted Chrissie had fallen silent on the bed.
Five - Jim and Sebby appeared to have stopped short of his own position.
Six - Sherlock became aware of faint whispers and the hint of silent communication between the two men.
Seven - Jim stepped away, leaving Sherlock under Sebby's watchful eye - Perfect, Sherlock thought.
Eight - He dropped his head and cracked his eyes open just a little, checking he would still be able to rely on them.
Nine - He extended his hearing one more time, reassuring himself of the positions of both Jim and Sebby.
Ten...
Sherlock jumped up from his chair, almost shocking Sebby into losing his balance before the bigger man made a grab for his lowered weapon. Sherlock swiftly pulled the disorientated man into a headlock, forcing the pistol from Sebby's grip and into his own hand.
Jim spun round, his face dark as thunder as he made a reach for Chrissie.
"Don't!" Sherlock barked sharply, pressing the cold barrel of the gun against Sebby's temple and walking him towards Jim.
With a sudden flash of noise and light, four men burst into the room, weapons raised and shouting.
Each of them did a sweep to assess the room, ultimately training their weapons on the two men that they subsequently identified as perpetrators: one hovering close to the bound girl on the bed and the other with the gun to the third man's head...