Quick updates appear to be on the menu these days. Here's the next bit. Enjoy!

CHAPTER 28

Traralgon

Regional Victoria,

Victoria

Australia

John didn't know if he was angry at the situation, worried for Sherlock, scared that he may never see Sherlock again or frustrated that it had to be them. Every single time.

As the group neared the house on the side with absolutely no windows, the doctor pushed his feelings to the back of his mind. He had to focus, dammit. This was why they never sent you in if you were emotionally attached in any defence force or police force. You could jeopardise the whole operation.

The five agents snuck around the side of the building, with Mitch on point. The rough stones were still warm from the day's heat, and the moon, far above was flooding the ground with moonlight. Their shadows rippled against the wall.

All were silent and all knew that if this failed, tracking Sherlock, with Moriarty involved, would be damn near impossible. In fact, he could die, John thought and had to stop the panic that was threatening to overwhelm him. A hand on his shoulder made him turn around to see Lestrade's worried expression,

'Focus," he said, "You're going to be vital to getting Sherlock back," John stared into the DI's eyes a moment longer,

'You're right," he whispered back, "I'm sorry,"

"Don't be," James said, turned around to face them and Mitch turned around, 'you're allowed to be worried,"

'Just don't let it effect your skills," Mitch added, coming back to tell them what he's seen, "There's a barred window around the corner. I suggest everyone get ready,"

John nodded and glanced back to Sally who gave him a reassuring smile.

Inside the House

Traralgon, Regional Victoria

Victoria

Australia

The clouds shifted above as a breeze raced across the fields and swept into the valley the house was situated in. Still sitting on the bed and eating purely because he was close to starving, Sherlock stared at Moriarty. "Can we at least close the window?" he asked,

"Of course," Moriarty reached into his pocket and Sherlock suspected there was a remote in there, and as he watched a shutter came down on the window, but just before, Sherlock was sure he saw a shadow move, around the corner of the house. He was also sure that Moriarty didn't see, because Sherlock was almost flat against the wall, and it was this position that gave him the vantage point.

The detective turned back to the piece of crab, refusing to get excited about anything. It could have been a trick of the light. He knew as well as anyone else that rescue in this situations was very, very unlikely

John's an unlikely person, though.

Sherlock almost smiled.

"No small talk, Sherlock?" Moriarty asked, breaking him out of his reverie, watching the detective sitting opposite him very closely,

"Small talk would mean that I wanted to be here," Sherlock replied,

"Oh, but you do, Sherlock."

"Really?" the detective asked, "Tell how that works,"

"Well, you see, I am much better company that your pet." Sherlock had to stop himself from replying. Moriarty was baiting him and he knew it. He tried not to listened as the man continued, "I mean, yeah, sure, he's alright for a little while," the psychopaths eye's glinted as he cocked his head to the side, 'And yeah, I suppose he's relatively funny. In a pathetic, loyal sort of way," Sherlock could feel the anger bubbling inside, "But in the end," Moriarty's dark eyes locked onto Sherlock's grey ones, "He's just an easy fu-"

Before he could even finish his sentence, Sherlock was off the bed and on top of Moriarty, the force of the jump splintering the chair underneath them and knocking all the breath for Moriarty's body. Sherlock landed two punches into Moriarty's side and went for a knee to the groin, but Moriarty rolled them over, showing surprising strength for a man who didn't like to get his hands dirty and punched Sherlock across the jaw, knocking his head backwards into the wooden floor with a thump.

Sherlock managed to get another punch in and Moriarty gasped with pain as Sherlock's fingers dug into a nerve cluster in his shoulder, but the detective had been blinded by anger – always a disadvantage in a fight, Moriarty thought – and didn't notice that the psychopath had reached into his pocket and brought out a taser. He flicked it on high just as Sherlock caught the movement and before the detective could move, Jim brought it down on his arm and Sherlock screamed out as pain ripped through his body before the light disappeared and he wished John were here.

Sighing as Sherlock went limp, Moriarty wiped a drop of blood from his lip.

From outside the window, everyone heard the scream and John gripped the gun in his hand so hard, he was afraid he might accidentally hit the trigger.

'We need to get inside, now," Sally said, "That was Sherlock's voice,"

"Around the front," Mitch said and none of them bothered to be subtle, running at full pelt. They didn't know what Moriarty was doing to Sherlock. They raced up the front stairs and Mitch stood in front of the door. He held up three fingers and the others nodded towards him, adrenaline racing through their bodies, their breaths coming short and sharp. They knew there was no one in there except Moriarty, Sherlock and the driver. They could do this.

When the last finger went down, Mitch and John kicked the door simultaneously and it fell in, off it's hinges. The five officers burst into the hallway and a door to the right opened to reveal the startled guard, but John had eyes only for the man standing at the end of the corridor, caught like a deer in headlights, but emitting the aura of a man in complete control. Sally drew a sharp breath and Lestrade wanted to shoot oh so very badly.

"John, Greg, Sally," Moriarty said, "you've brought friends, how nice," The shadows around him seemed to blur as John tried to see an outline of his figure, but couldn't see anything in the dim light coming from the open bedroom door of the driver.

"Give us Sherlock, or we'll shoot," John said, raising the gun and Moriarty laughed,

'I think you're in more danger than I am," he replied and John glanced over to Lestrade who shrugged,

"What are you talking about?" Sally called out,

"Why don't all of you look up?"

Knowing they probably shouldn't, everyone in the hallway glanced up, in time to see the lasers flash above them. Before anyone could move a solid steel door dropped down behind them, making them spin around and then back to face Moriarty,

"What the hell is this, Moriarty?"

"A trap," he replied simply and pressed a button on the remote of his.

He watched with pleasure as all five armed and healthy agents collapsed to the floor after a pulse of blue light.

There was an echoing silence in the hallway and Moriarty tried to calm himself down. He was angry. Very angry. They would pay for their interruption but at least now he didn't have to go and look for Johnny boy. The idiot walked right into his trap all for dear Sherlock. He was an idiot. What Sherlock saw in him, Moriarty was not sure.

"Take them to the cellars," he said to the driver, who nodded and did as he was told. Moriarty glanced back at the pathetic idiots on the floor.

Oh yes. They will pay.

Mwahahahaha.

MWAAHAHAHA!

*ahem*

Nice and evil there. Tell me, did I capture the essence of Moriarty well enough? Hope so.

Aza

xoxo