It looks like monthly updates are all I'm going to manage from now on. Sigh.
Oh well.
On with the story! :D
CHAPTER 24
Sofitel hotel
Melbourne
Victoria
Australia
John woke slowly and, ignoring Lestrade, who had fallen asleep next to him on the couch, his head resting on the armrest, John glanced back to the bed and felt his heart jump as the sunlight bathed sheets remained as empty as they were last night when Sherlock stormed out of the apartment.
"Oi," John nudged the DI awake and the detective woke up slowly, his neck screaming after a night sleeping as he had,
"John…" for a moment he was confused as to why John was waking him when he remembered,
"S'too early," he slurred, letting his eyes fall closed and dropping his head back against the couch. John whacked his arm harder and the DI jumped, opening his eyes again and this time, registered the worry on John's face,
"He's not back yet," John said, and that was all Lestrade needed. The DI stood and John followed.
"He could just be pouting," The DI suggested, glancing at John who was staring at the bed with the same worried expression. Hard eyes met him as John turned,
'No," he said simply and walked to the door. Lestrade followed and pulled on Sherlock's slightly smaller shoes before following John out of the apartment. Ignoring the fact that he was hungry he asked,
'Where are we going?"
"AFP," John replied and Lestrade sighed,
"Alright."
The doctor didn't know what to do. He could feel that something was wrong. This wasn't a case of Sherlock being a petulant, albeit well funded, child who had run away and booked himself another room. John walked briskly out of the lift with Lestrade right behind him. They walked through the foyer, attracting a bit of attention from the lady at the desk, who had seen John and Sherlock together countless times and now saw him emerging with Lestrade.
Walking out onto the street, John opened the door to one of the cabs that was waiting there, "St. Kilda Road Police Station," Lestrade said, climbing in behind John,
"What about Sally?" John asked,
'She'll be there," The cab took from the curb quickly and John started out the window and at the people walking by.
Where the hell was Sherlock?
Holding room
Regional Victoria
Victoria
Australia
This was turning into rather a bad habit. Sherlock blinked as the blue ceiling came into view and slanted, early morning sunlight coming in from the eastern facing window and forced him to squint as it hit his grey eyes.
There was a pounding in the back of his head and Sherlock was entirely sure that whoever had taken him did not mean well. He also highly doubted that this was a case of wrong place, wrong time. They were on a high profile case in a foreign country working against an underworld tycoon. Chances that he had mistakenly been taken were very slim. He could probably calculate them if he could be bothered.
There were no sounds around him. Even though the wooden shutters on the barred window was wide open, no sound floated in. Sitting up extremely carefully, Sherlock groaned as the pounding in his head felt like someone was hitting him with a sledgehammer. Then getting a pneumatic drill to add insult to injury.
Sherlock stood and found that the window was at eye-level and he was looking out on a grassy field that stretched to the horizon. Not in the city. Perfect. Sherlock said, even in his half concussed state, able to come up with sarcastic remarks.
The detective walked around the rest of the room, his eyes examining every crack in the wall and every smell that floated in through the window was catalogued in his impressive brain. To the average person, there didn't actually appear to be a door, but Sherlock found the place where he believed it was, the slate grey walls showing a slight indent. Sherlock bent down and saw the faint lines on the highly polished floorboards he was on. He only took note that these were one hundred percent oak – meaning whoever was holding him had a bit of money.
After prodding around the door area, Sherlock sighed and went back to the bed, flopping down onto it and then regretting it as his head protested at the sudden movement. Sherlock let his eyes scan the ceiling one more time and in the corner a tiny, tiny black dot was visible. He let his eyes scan past it while his mind worked overtime.
They were watching him.
The question that remains is who, exactly, are 'they'?
Just outside the holding room
Regional Victoria
Victoria
Australia
Even as Sherlock pondered these thoughts, his kidnappers were watching him. Both Irish and both with previous convictions, Timothy Baron and Larry McKenzie were overly amused at the fact that Sherlock seemed bored.
'Why don't we go and entertain him?" Timothy asked, and Larry chuckled,
'Fun as that would be," he flicked a strand of pitch black hair out of his eyes, "The boss said to bring him in unharmed,"
"Why?"
"Because, he said he wanted to see him first,"
"The boss is in jail," Timothy huffed,
'It's called video, you idiot," said Larry punching his partner on the arm,
"Whatever,"
Before the argument could progress any further, the phone rang and Larry picked up, 'Hello?" he answered and he reflexively straightened as he heard the voice on the other end,
'Yes boss," he said, "We have him," Larry listened a bit more and the smile spread across his face, "No problem boss, the video footage is being sent over right now," he nodded to Tim who hastily clicked the button that sent the feed from the holding room to the online account set up by their boss. Larry looked up as he hung the phone up,
'So, did we do good?" Timothy asked,
"Yep," Larry replied, smirking at the thought of ten thousand dollars sitting in their bank accounts.
St Kilda Police HQ
St Kilda, Melbourne
Victoria
Australia
"Listen, he's been missing since last night," John said, trying to appeal to the man in front of him – chief of police Mark Leighton – "You can't tell me you can't do anything!" John exclaimed and the chief rolled his eyes,
'DI, knock some sense into your friend," he said, "You know as well as I do you have to wait forty-eight hours before reporting a missing persons case,"
The chief should have known the appeal was useless as Lestrade grimaced at him,
"A missing person who is down here to help you catch a criminal that is not our responsibility," Lestrade replied, slamming his hand down on the table and John felt a surge of thankfulness that Lestrade was with him on this one.
The doctor knew that you had to wait, but he demanded to see the Chief and then brought in the fact that they were overseas help – meaning this could strain diplomatic ties between the two countries. However, that didn't seem to be working.
The Chief ran a hand across his forehead, "What am I supposed to do? Start a national manhunt? For a man that is not a citizen?" He asked, exasperated, "Look, we're already stretched thin in Victoria as it is, and neither of you are helping the case,"
"Sir, please-" Lestrade didn't even get to finish his sentence as the man's patience ran out.
'No more," he said, standing up, 'Go back to the hotel and stay there, I'm sure your friend will turn up," Without waiting for them to say anything else, he pushed them out of the office and slammed the door in their faces.
"I take it that didn't go as planned?" asked Sally, joining them as they walked, angry and irritated towards the entrance,
"No shit, Sally," John muttered, as she fell into step with them,
"We're not getting any help from this quarter," Lestrade and Sally smiled,
'What?" The detective asked,
"I may have got us some help,' as she said it, they turned a corner to find Mitch and James fighting good-naturedly,
"Boys?" she said and both of them turned to face them,
'Hey, John!" Mitch walked forward and pulled him into a hug,
'Hi," John said, slightly surprised by the hug and almost thrown off balance as James walked up to him and hugged him as well,
"I hear we need to get your friend back," he said,
"Erm…yeah," John replied, still slight surprised,
"Great," The doctor exchanged a glance with the DI who shrugged, looking as surprised as John did. The doctor grabbed Sally and dragged her close, "What the hell did you do with them?" he asked and Sally smiled sweetly,
'I threatened to tell James' wife about his many affairs and that Mitch was aiding him,"
"And?" Lestrade asked,
'Apparently, Steph is not a woman to be crossed,"
"Sally?" Lestrade said,
'Yes?"
"I think I love you,' Lestrade said and Sally blushed while John rolled his eyes as the troop exited the Police HQ and they followed Mitch to the nearest police car.
HM Prison Frankland
Brasside, County Durham
England
UK
In HM Prison Frankland, Moriarty placed a wad of cash into the guard's hand and the door to the computer rooms opened, "Prisoner Moriarty has extended use of the computers," The Guards said to the overseer inside the room. He nodded and led Moriarty to a cubicle.
The man waited until the guards left him and he opened the Internet and logged onto his e-mail account. There was the video he was waiting for. He clicked on it and it loaded. Moriarty watched them drag the lifeless body of the target into the room. Fast-forwarding, he stopped when light filled the room and he squinted at the body on the pallet in the corner of the room. He fast-forwarded a little more and the body stirred. He pressed play and the person sat up. Moriarty's jaw dropped.
'Sherlock," he breathed, a smile spreading across his face, "No," he said as he watched the detective stand up and stare out the window. No. This was too good to be true. Howell was after Sherlock? Well…Moriarty felt like jumping up and down. His arch-enemy. The one man who could figure him out. His intellectual match.
No doubt Pierre Mannu is Sherlock's pet, John. Moriarty smiled some more. Screw Howell, he was getting out of here.
You see, Jim Moriarty always had a choice. He chose to stay in prison because he was a little bored with the outside. He wanted to see what was in here. The system was naïve enough to believe that he actually couldn't get out of here. He was only in here for a new experience. Sure, he suffered a bit, but then, that was all part of being in prison.
But now…with Sherlock in his grasp and John right there, perfect for torturing…Moriarty chuckled. Oh, this was perfect. He was getting out tomorrow. He closed the video and opened a new message. There were people who are waiting for his command to get him out of here. It wouldn't take very long.
Moriarty shut down and told the guard he was ready to go back.
Tonight was his last night in HM Frankland Prison.
Sofitel Hotel
Melbourne
Victoria
Australia
John, Sally, Lestrade, Mitch and James sat at the dining table of John and Sherlock's room. Files were spread across the table and Mitch was working on a laptop, trying to find the GPS signal on Sherlock's mobile.
"Where could he go?" Sally asked,
'I doubt he's gone anywhere," Lestrade said, "he was taken,"
"Look, I know you're a close-knit bunch…but…where's the evidence Sherlock was taken? How do you know he hasn't just gotten drunk and is still at the club or bar?" James asked, looking at the three Brits.
"Simple," said John, 'he would have been home by now," James raised an eyebrow,
"You know, he's not attached to you," he said and John shrugged but Lestrade came to his defence,
"In a way, he is," the DI said and John glanced up, 'before John came into Sherlock's life…it was the work that kept Sherlock going. He was addicted to it,"
"Yeah." Sally said, ad John flushed as she added the next bit, "now, he's learnt there are other things in life,"
"Before John we didn't think Sherlock had a heart," Lestrade said, tuning John even redder,
'But then, John has this effect on nearly everyone he meets," Sally grinned,
"Yeah…well…" John swallowed and James laughed,
'I see…"
'GOT IT!" Mitch exclaimed, and the others all got up and stood behind him, staring at the laptop screen,
'Where is he?" John asked, his voice cracking with worry and Lestrade put a hand on John's shoulder,
"He's in Traralgon," Mitch said,
'Where?" The three Brits chorused,
"It's a country town, up north. Not too many people so not many cops, not too little people that someone would notice that someone new had arrived," James said, leaning over Sally's shoulder. She pulled away, and he chuckled,
"I'll get you eventually," he whispered,
'You're disgusting,' Sally said and Mitch nodded,
'I've been saying that for a while. It doesn't work," the officer got up, 'Come on, pack an overnight bag, all of you. James and I will go get our stuff and meet you in the foyer of this hotel. We've got a man to rescue."
There we go. Sherlock's being held by Moriarty. Again. He's a silly duffer sometimes. :D
Now.
*Moriarty hugs Pheobe*
There. I'm done.
Aza
xoxo