The Strange Case of Doctor Watson and Mister Ives
Part Two: Project: Jekyll
They were taken to an infirmary beneath a large unadorned building in White Hall.
The journey was uncomfortable as Mycroft and Sherlock had decided to enter into a staring contest. Mycroft had information he wanted to share but he required Sherlock to ask, and the younger brother was studiously showing insouciance even though no one in the back of the car believed it.
As soon as they entered the small medical facility, John forgot the other two men and only had eyes for the patient.
Her makeup was scrubbed clean but she was no less beautiful for the lack of it, her long black hair held up in an uncharacteristically matronly bun.
She was staring ahead stoically, there was no sign she had noticed anyone entering.
"Has a doctor seen her?" John inquired, but Mycroft and Sherlock seemed enthralled by each other and he did not respond.
John spun on his heel and strolled over to the taller elder Holmes and backed him up a step. "Has...a...doctor...been...to...see...her!" he growled, "In case you haven't noticed, which I doubt since you are a Holmes, you've got an assault victim in your care over there! She is our priority not your immature feud!"
Mycroft blinked. His face betraying bother that someone would dare address him such, but he straightened his shoulders and reacquired his aloof bearing. "Yes her injuries have been seen to, but I wanted a second opinion about her back, she has been given medication for the pain, but I wanted someone discreet, and since Sherlock needs to see this as well, I felt you were an ideal candidate for the consultation, your files indicate that you were a medic of some note overseas."
John turned and walked to his patient without another word.
"Is he normally that on edge?" Mycroft murmured.
Sherlock did not want to acknowledge that his brother noticed something that he was only now realizing. "It is...uncharacteristic of him."
Mycroft made a hrmmm noise as if he was reading more into John's state than he was letting on, and oh how Sherlock hated that sound!
John took her hands gently. She looked up as if she was trying to focus.
"What is your name today?" he asked with a gentle smile.
She had to think for a moment. "Cassiopeia, you can call me Cassie though, all my friends do."
"At least for today?" John finished with a wink.
"At least for today," she confirmed with a tired smile.
John moved around to the back of the smock she was wearing. "May I take a look?"
She nodded. "Just don't get any ideas."
John chuckled; he was too busy staring at her back to notice that she suddenly tensed.
"Sherlock, you need to see this," he called out.
Sherlock glanced at his brother to see that unscrutible look was back into place.
He made his way over to John, his eyes passing over Cassie like she was not even there; she was merely a clue at the moment in his mind.
This was what had Mycroft so upset.
Carved into her skin with painstaking care to make clean lines was the words.
BACK OFF BAKER STREET!
"He was charming and I thought he might be dangerous, but I'm pretty dangerous myself," Cassie informed in a monotone showing that she was still in shock. "I'm MI-6, I've been taught to handle men twice his size and yet...once he turned on me I...couldn't stop him from doing whatever he wanted." Her voice caught as she tried to gather herself. "He told me, "I'm not going to rape you, Lovely, I just need to leave your boss a message, and a post-it just won't do."
John examined her wounds. "The lines are clean, almost surgical; he knew his way around a scalpel. With some stitches and some surgery she probably won't even scar that much."
Sherlock was not even listening, but he gave John and absent nod.
"What's that about the scarring?" Cassie asked in a quiet voice.
"I think those new sutures that don't require stitches, will help close the wounds clean, with some plastic surgery and a well applied skin graft or two from other parts of your body, you'll be good as new," John informed her with a smile.
She raised a perfectly formed eyebrow. "What other parts of my body?"
"Just places where the skin is soft, do you have such places?" he inquired with a randy leer.
"Wouldn't you like to know," she replied with her first smile in hours.
"I would, actually," John replied with a wide grin.
Her own smile faltered imperceptivity, but then it was back in force.
"This is the same man that killed Golem," Sherlock announced. "He used the same hand to write both messages, but I detect it was opposite from his dominate hand, so it is someone trying to disguise a distinguishing characteristic."
"But what do Mycroft, and Moriarty have in common? Why does he want Mycroft to back off?" John inquired leaning against a supply closet.
"Those are two very important questions," Sherlock replied. His eyes grew cold as they took in his brother still standing at the door to the dispensary. "Moriarty and my brother have more in common then he would have us believe. Maybe he should decide just what he can share with us before more messages are sent?"
Mycroft's face was sphinx like when he replied. "Not today."
Sherlock crossed the room, "Fine, come along, John, you look famished, I know a place that serves an excellent brunch.
John stared at the two brothers, and then deciding that he was out of his depth once again just followed his flatmate out after giving Cassie's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "It will be alright, no worries."
After they left, Mycroft strolled over. "You remembered something," he stated with the complete assurance he always showed when he made deductions.
"You are going to believe I am insane," she mumbled her eyes flashing fear.
"Try me, dear," Mycroft encouraged.
She sighed. "For a moment, when John Watson chuckled and when he grinned at me...I could have sworn...well never mind it wasn't him, he's a good, kind man, the man from last night was definitely not." She shuddered remembering those dark eyes.
If she was looking at her boss she would have seen a flicker of shock cross his features.
"You take as much time off as you need, my dear, we will spare no expense fixing your back until it is as flawless as ever," he gave her a fatherly pat on uninjured shoulder.
"Thank you sir," she replied her voice thick with gratitude.
He left her in the care of the dispensary doctor and made his way to his office above ignoring all calls for his patronage with an absent wave of his umbrella.
Once there he settled into his chair and sighed wearily.
He pulled out a digital key with one of the most complicated encryptions known to man and inserted it into his laptop's flashdrive port and raised the lid.
The screen switched on and immediately a security protocol came up. This computer was not on the system and very few persons knew of its existence and of those, only he had the device to unlock it and yet...
He scrolled through files so classified they would cause riots worldwide if their contents were ever made public, and he reached an item at the bottom which was even further encrypted with a code of his own device.
A new file came up.
PROJECT: JEKYLL
There were several clips of the experiments that were implemented in the upmost secrecy in government run facilities that had no names, on prisoners who were non persons that were disappeared for various reasons. He watched as person after person was subjected to different strains of the serum with results both dramatic and disturbing.
He had thought the entire program was shut down and all batches of the serum destroyed. The conclusion being that all patients eventually descended into madness or became so criminally psychotic as to be no further use.
It was one of the darkest attempts that he knew about to produce a super soldier, and was even more frightening...it was the closest they had ever come.
There was a note written in the dossier that had been transcribed to digital file.
"The subjects that we found had the most success were those who already had duel conflicting natures at the start. That natural schism became deepened by the serum and given its own manifestation in a personality that sublimated the primary one, the more altruistic the primary persona, the more dangerous the secondary one."
Mycroft's mind went back to the assessment he had drawn up on John Watson. There was a line that came to mind.
"Doctor John Watson is a man deeply devoted to saving lives, and yet to defend life he will kill with no hesitation or second thought. He is indeed a study in contrasts, part medical saviour, and part courageous unflinching soldier."
Mycroft leaned back in his seat.
"Jim Moriarty, what have you done?"
~-o0o-~
Across town in a lavishly appointed penthouse, a man sat in front of his own computer asking himself the same thing.
He was staring at digital stills of what remained of one of his best physical assets. It was hard to believe that someone could do that to the shambling giant, but the evidence was there in front of him.
He shrugged and noshed on the beluga caviar and brioche on the silver tray in front of him, spreading on a Blini and nibbling as he leaned back in deep thought.
He had been waiting for the news that Sherlock Holmes was murdered by his own best friend...At least that was the hoped for result.
When he kidnapped John Watson and strapped him to the explosive vest, it was just a ruse to deliver the real package into the man's veins, the serum that was now causing him all sorts of bother.
He told John the injection was just to calm the good doctor's nerves because he did not want the man to panic and set the bomb off too soon before he had his fun.
The surprisingly resourceful man had told him to sod off.
He had seen the flash of murderous rage in those eyes then, but he had convinced himself that level of anger was in his best interest.
However, it appeared that he had a super strong, extremely agile and swift killer coming for him, one created by his own hand. And that same creature had thumbed the nose of the one man that Moriarty really did not want to cross.
There was an email waited for him in his inbox, he clicked on it. It was heavily encrypted to prevent trace back but the message was simple.
"We need to talk, this is not a request!"
M
Moriarty smiled. "I don't think he's going to be happy that I injected one of his governments darkest secrets into a man living under the same roof as his brother...yes this conversation is going to be rather pleasant!"
He chuckled and leaned back in his chair rubbing his chin.
"How do I turn this to my advantage?" he mused in a sing song voice.
Soon there was a crocodile smile on his face. "Oh yes, that is delicious!"
He sent a return mail to Mycroft's inbox on his most private account, all the better to annoy the man, it read:
"See you at the usual spot, you bring the crumpets,"
Toodles til then,
Jimbo
Part 03-Posted Tomorrow