"Tell me where she is." Sherlock stated dead calm, circling the man currently tied to the chair like a cat circling a mouse.
"I'm not telling you anything." The Richard spat.
The younger Holme's didn't even forge shock or surprise when Mycroft's driver had pulled up to an abandoned warehouse which Mr. Mason was already tided up inside. Instead, he went straight to work trying to get information from him.
Sherlock glared at Richard Mason, the only possible connection to his nieces abduction. He was about to grab him by the collar and demand and answer, but Mycroft beat him to the punch. With one swift movement the elegant umbrella, that he carried so regularly that it had become synonymous with his imposing figure, transformed into a brutal weapon. A loud crack echoed throughout the room as the thick fabric acted like a leather of a whip, the inner metal and wood pounded against the man's jaw.
Sherlock was not sure whether it was the bones in the man's face which had made the noise or the sound of the umbrella breaking. He did not interfere to find out which.
Mycroft did not give Richard a chance to answer his question as he continued his assault. Soon the man's face was bloody, the umbrella in his hand destroyed with pieces of small metal supports tearing through the fabric which had caused the shallow cuts all over the man's face.
When Mycroft's arm began to hurt, and he found himself out of breath, he dropped the umbrella. It fell slowly to the floor along with any sense of civil decency, patience, and respect he had towards the law and procedures. Until Marissa was returned to him he had no need to hide behind his mask of icy calmness, nor would he use the subtly means of pushing his power and influence.
"God damn it." The man cursed weakly.
Grabbing the man's hair in his hand Mycroft forcefully pulled up on his head to face him. Mycroft's eyes displayed furry and rage as he lost control of his emotions, and Mycroft out of control was a scary sight. He was not a large man, despite Sherlock's constant jokes about his diet, he was not muscular and his body was not imposing, but it was not his body that was to be feared. Above his average frame was a weapon that countries would go to war for if they knew what it was truly capable of. Locked away behind an elegant facade, always playing the part of doting servant to his queen and country, yet it was so alert in his deep-set eyes, so firm in every word he spoke, and so subtly in his manipulation of those around him. With a single glance one forgot everything except his mind. With one look it was clear what he was capable of.
"Tell me where she is, or I swear not even God will be able to save you." Mycroft ordered as he continued to tilt the man's head backwards in a painful angle. Nothing was going to stand between him and his daughter, certainly not the likes of an insignificant pawn.
"I don't know." The man wheezed.
"I hope for your sake that is a lie." Mycroft said in a voice Sherlock had never heard before. Sherlock had heard his elder brother display man things with a simple tone of voice, an order, annoyance, or frustration. He could effectively deliver a threat by just changing his tone while speaking about the weather. It was a talent in linguistics that Mycroft always possessed, but this was something he had never heard before.
"Sherlock, wait outside for a moment." Mycroft stated it was not a question but a demand. Ordinarily Sherlock would not be ordered about so easily, but sensing his hesitation Mycroft fixed him with a hard look. "Now, Sherlock." He repeated himself sternly as if he was speaking to a child. And as Sherlock did so often as a child, he followed his big brothers orders and left him alone.
...
For a time all was quiet. Mycroft spoke to the man attentively, getting inside of his head, but then the man started to scream and Sherlock began wondered what Mycroft could be doing that was so horrible that he didn't want his little brother to see.
Leaning agents the warehouse wall Sherlock got the despite need to have a smoke but soon everything went quiet again and the craving passed. Mycroft came out of the warehouse, a mask of indifferent firmly in place, and when they stepped into the back of the car it was clear he did not want to discuss what had just happened with his brother.
"Caring is not an advantage, Mycroft." Sherlock reminded him no concern about the man still inside the building.
"Now is not the time Sherlock." Mycroft responded sadly as his gaze drifted out the window to the setting sun. It was as if the universe was mocking him, on such a beautiful day his daughter had been taken from him, it could have at least been raining.
"We will find her, so long as we focus on the job at hand." Sherlock continued as he sent a silent text to Aaron Hotchner, letting him know where to find their missing getaway driver.
"Perhaps we should return to the team of profilers, they may offer a different perspective." Sherlock suggested, remembering the conversation with Agent Hotchner about working together.
Mycroft mostly ignored him, but signaled to the driver to return to the police station most of his attention focused on the names that Richard had given him. Goran Petrović, Millard Sampson and Charles Trent, the three men who he had been working with.
His brother was right about one thing. They would find her.
"Everything was planned out, Marissa was low risk, the school had some of the most advanced security, and they still managed to take her without a trace. They chose to break into the school instead of grabbing her in her home. It would have made more sense to take her from there considering they had to take her computer as well." Hotch reviewed.
"They wanted her kidnapping to be noticed. Maybe to draw attention away from the missing computer, maybe to send a message to her father." Emily suggested.
"We're dealing with a high functioning, meticulous, unsub." Morgan stated from his seat at the table.
"He must have been planning this for a long time. Think about it, to bypass the schools security, avoid all traffic cameras, and get her out of the area with all the cops looking for her." Reid continued.
It helped for them to explain the current theories and scenarios out loud. Bouncing ideas and scenarios off each other until they found the one that fit the facts and behavior the best.
"Are we sure it's a he? All the detail and planning to abduct one girl." JJ questioned letting her voice trail off.
"You saying a man wouldn't have planned so well." One of the local cops asked.
"A man would have orchestrated this to show how smart he was, he would taunt the police, he would have told the kidnappers to be more aggressive. The way Ms. woods was attacked was personal." JJ tried to explain to the local cop that the behavior just didn't fit for a male unsub.
"Seeing how we're past the twelve hour mark it's unlikely for them to call with a ransom meaning their goal was to take the computer. But the abduction from the school suggest he did not want her abduction to go unnoticed."Hotch continued.
"He wanted Mycroft to know as soon as possible."Reid nodded.
"And the killing of Marissa's house keeper, who represents a caregiver, suggest a personal motive as well." Rossi added as he folded his arms in front of him and tuned to face the rest of the team.
"A woman, someone who wanted Marissa, someone motivated by money and revenge." Morgan listed as the entire team came to the same conclusion.
"I think we need to call Mr Holmes back, tell him we know who took his daughter." Hotch nodded.
Note: I'm going to be honest here, the only reason I wrote this story was because I wanted to have Mycroft beat someone up with his umbrella :P
-I'll probably be posting the next chapter in a day or two.
-There are two chapters left in this story, I hope you're enjoying it so far.