John looked back at Eurus as he asked incredulously: "What's this? W-we're supposed to solve this based on what?"

"This." Sherlock replied as he kept his eyes fixed on the photographs. "This is all we get."

John looked at Sherlock in disbelief, while Marie moved her gaze to take the rifle from Sherlock. She examined it briefly while Eurus called: "Please, make use of your friends, Sherlock."

They all looked back at her, their brows furrowing as Eurus stated: "I want to see you interact with people that you're close to. Also, you may have to choose which one to keep."

Marie scowled while John frowned and glanced at her and then Mycroft with a puzzled look.

Sherlock ignored Eurus as he took the rifle back from Marie, before he held it out in both hands as he looked at Mycroft first.

"What do you make of it?" Sherlock inquired, and Mycroft asked flatly: "Am I being asked to prove my usefulness?"

"Yes, I should think you are." Sherlock answered just as flatly, and Mycroft replied in a low voice: "I will not be manipulated like this."

Marie glanced over at him, her eyes unreadable, while Sherlock just answered flatly: "Fine. John?"

He turned to his friend, who looked at Mycroft uneasily. Mycroft just looked away, and Sherlock prodded more firmly: "John?"

John finally turned back to Sherlock, and with an internal sigh he took the rifle as he began: "Yeah, I think I've seen one of these. It's a buffalo gun."

He lifted the gun, checking it, and then peered through the telescopic sight as he listed: "I'd say nineteen forties, old-fashioned sight, no crosshairs."

Sherlock took back the rifle before looking at Marie.

"Marie?" He asked quietly, and she answered coolly but distinctly: "Kickback on a gun like this would be substantial."

"Exactly." Sherlock agreed as he glanced briefly over the photos of the brothers once more, muttering: "Glasses, glasses."

"Nathan." Marie pointed out, pointing at the first brother in the photographs, and Sherlock continued their thoughts aloud: "Nathan wears glasses. Evans was shot from three hundred metres."

"So?" John asked, and Sherlock reminded him: "It's like Marie said – the kickback from a gun of this calibre would be massive."

He tapped the photograph of Nathan as he pointed out: "No cuts, no scarring."

"Not Nathan, then." Marie concluded, and Sherlock nodded as he turned the photograph over.

"Who's next?" Sherlock muttered, his eyes moving onto the next brother – Alex – while Mycroft commented sarcastically: "Well done, Dr. Watson, Victoire."

Marie shot him a resentful look, which Mycroft ignored as he said with a falsely friendly smile in an equally falsely sweet voice: "How useful you are."

John glanced at Mycroft as well, while Mycroft demanded, his tone dropping to become serious: "Do you have a suspicion we're being made to compete?"

"You think you're competing against me?" Marie inquired, her brow shooting up as she examined Mycroft with a measure of incredulity that puzzled the eldest Holmes.

But his attention was diverted as John retorted, taking a step closer to Mycroft: "No, we're not competing. There's a plane in the air that's gonna crash, so what we're doing is actually trying to save a little girl."

John stared Mycroft right in the eye as he continued in a low but firm voice: "Today we have to be soldiers, Mycroft," both Sherlock and John glanced over sharply at that, "soldiers, and that means to hell with what happens to us."

John stalked away from the other man angrily as he finished, while Marie watched sadly, knowing it was her words that had – at the end of the day – hit John hard.

Sherlock lowered his head again, while Mycroft raised his brows briefly before he said, sounding genuine for the first time in a while: "Your priorities do you credit."

"No," John shot back angrily as he turned on Mycroft again, "my priorities almost got a woman killed."

He turned away again, walking back the long way around to rejoin Marie and Sherlock at the table when Eurus suddenly piped up: "Now, as I understand it, Sherlock-"

Both Holmes brothers and Marie glanced up at Eurus as she almost sing-songed: "You try to repress your emotions to refine your reasoning. I'd like to see how that works, so, if you don't mind, I'm going to apply some context to your deductions."

Before any of them could even let her words fully sink in, they heard a click behind them. The group all turned to look towards the windows, just as three men, tied up and gagged, dropped down into view.

"Oh, dear God." Mycroft gasped while Marie's jaw actually dropped open as they stared at the three men dangling from a single rope each before the window.

Each man had a nametag hanging around their necks, identifying each man as one of the three brothers, and which blew in the wind as the three men struggled desperately against their bonds.

The four inside the room paled as they stared at the three men, while Eurus explained casually: "Two of the Garridebs work here as orderlies, so getting the third along really wasn't too difficult."

The group inside the room barely heard her as they stepped closer to the windows, still unable to believe their eyes as they stared at the three men dangling right in front of them.

"Once you bring in your verdict," Eurus continued regardless, "let me know and justice will be done."

"Justice?" Sherlock repeated in horror, while John asked fearfully: "What will you do with them?"

"Early release." Eurus answered.

Marie closed her eyes while Sherlock's darted down to the sea below and he turned back to face his sister as he realized: "You'll drop them into the sea."

"Sink, or swim." Eurus stated calmly, and John shouted as he too turned back to the screen: "They're tied up!"

"Exactly!" Eurus countered blithely. "Now there is context."

Mycroft kept his eyes fixed in horror on the men literally by a single rope above their doom – for it was obvious that if they fell from this height and with their entire bodies bound, they would never survive – while Sherlock placed the rifle down on the table.

He leant on the table while he examined the photographs as Eurus went on: "Please, continue with your deductions. I'm now focusing on the difference to your mental capacity a specified consequence can make."

"Why should we bother?" Mycroft demanded as he also turned to face his sister while John glanced with a grimace at the men outside the window. "What if we're disinclined to play your games, little sister?"

Eurus simply chuckled, though it was void of any real humour, before she reminded them: "I have – if you remember – provided you with some motivation."

Marie's jaw clenched as she turned back to the room while the speakers clicked and the little girl's voice came over the speakers, crying: "We're going through the clouds, like cotton wool."

Mycroft clasped his hands over his head, bowing it in frustration, while Sherlock straightened up from where he'd been poring over the photographs and he groaned while closing his eyes: "Oh. That's nice. Try to tell me more about the plane."

"Why won't my mummy wake up?" The girl asked desperately, her fear starting to make her unreachable to their questions.

Before they could say any more, the speaker clicked again and Eurus was back on the screen, watching them.

Sherlock opened his eyes while Marie stepped forward, taking his hand in hers tightly while pressing her other hand on his back. He gripped her hand like a lifeline while she leant slightly against him as they both looked down at the photographs once more.

"So it's got to be one of the other two." Sherlock muttered as he touched Alex's photograph in the middle, looking between that one and the one beside it of Howard.

Sherlock turned to look at the brothers directly through the window, still holding Marie's hand tightly in his left one as he stated: "Now, Howard."

Sherlock walked closer, Marie trailing tightly behind him as Sherlock stopped before Howard at the window while rattling off swiftly: "Howard's a lifelong drunk: pallor of his skin, terminal gin blossoms on his red nose, and – terror notwithstanding – a bad case of the DTs."

John glanced at Sherlock, before looking back at the terrified man outside as Sherlock muttered: "There's no way he could have taken that shot from three hundred metres away."

Sherlock stalked away, walking precisely three steps forward to stop before the man in the middle as he muttered: "So that leaves us with Alex."

Marie's grip on him tightened while Sherlock fired off as he stared at the last brother intently: "Indentations on the temples suggest he habitually wears glasses. Frown lines suggest a lifetime of peering."

"He's shortsighted, or he was." Mycroft chimed in, unable to keep his deductions to himself with Sherlock listing his own so rapidly. "His recent laser surgery has done the trick."

"Laser surgery?" Sherlock asked, glancing at Mycroft, and Marie said softly: "His clothes."

"He's made an effort." Mycroft agreed, and Sherlock looked at Alex's suit, noting the much neater and definitely more groomed appearance compared to his brothers.

"That's very good." John breathed, and Sherlock agreed quietly but intensely: "Excellent. Suddenly he sees himself in quite a different light now that he's dumped the specs. Even has a spray tan."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes as he added: "But he's clearly not used to his new personal grooming ritual; that can be told by the state of his fingernails and the fact that there's hair growing in his ears."

Sherlock's speed increased as he listed: "So it's a superficial job, then. But he got his eyes fixed. His hands were steady. He pulled the trigger."

He turned back to the screen as he stated loudly while pointing at Alex: "He killed Evans."

"Are you ready to condemn the prisoner?" Eurus asked lightly, and suddenly the full weight of the situation returned, dropping on the group like a tonne of bricks.

Sherlock paused, while Marie's hands tightened on Sherlock's, and Mycroft whispered as he turned to his brother: "Sherlock, we can't do this."

But Sherlock spat back as he lowered his hand and looked back out the window: "The plane, remember? There's a little girl trapped on that plane."

"It's not your daughter." Mycroft reminded seriously, but Sherlock answered quietly: "She is someone else's daughter."

There was nothing Mycroft to say to that, and he folded his lips tightly while Eurus asked sharply: "Sherlock? Are you ready?"

Sherlock's head jerked slightly to the side at her call, his expression filled with uncertainty as he hesitated now that it had come to this.

John looked at his friend, not saying a word and holding no judgment in his gaze as Sherlock dithered for a moment, biting his lip. Marie also remained silent as she waited for Sherlock to make the call – it had to be his to make, Eurus was making that much very clear.

"Alex." Sherlock finally said softly, unable to look at the man.

"Say it." Eurus commanded. "Condemn him."

John and Mycroft turned to look grimly out the window at the man hanging before them, while Sherlock's hand tightened around Marie's as Eurus ordered: "Condemn him in the knowledge of what will happen to the man you name."

Sherlock finally also turned to face the man he knew was the culprit, the man he was condemning to death. Marie made to turn as well, but Sherlock pulled her behind his back, holding her there tightly.

Sensing his wish, she didn't struggle, simply remaining still where she couldn't see out the window as Sherlock paused for a long moment before he finally said quietly but firmly: "I condemn Alex Garrideb."

The moment the words left his mouth, the ropes holding Nathan and Howard Garrideb suddenly released, dropping the two brothers out of sight and to their death.

The three men inside the room all flinched back in shock and absolute horror, and Marie looked up at Sherlock in alarm while Jim's voice called from behind them: "Mind the gap."

Marie drew in a sharp breath when she saw only Alex left hanging before them, instantly working out what must have happened while Eurus stated from behind them: "Congratulations."

Sherlock closed his eyes briefly before turning back to the screen as Eurus said lightly: "You got the right one."

Marie growled, actually growled she was so furious, while Sherlock let go of her to walk slowly towards the screen as Eurus ordered: "Now, go through the door."

She nodded to the side, just as the door on the other side of the room slid open, while John stalked towards the screen as he asked in a low but angry voice: "You dropped the other two. Why?"

Eurus stared at him, and she commented, looking intrigued: "Interesting."

"WHY?!" John yelled, his voice sharp and filled with dark anger.

Marie turned from the windows as well, her eyes burning with rage as she too glared at Eurus, who was saying thoughtfully: "Does it really make a difference, killing the innocent instead of the guilty?"

Sherlock was stalking towards the door, his strides getting quicker as though he were trying to leave before-

"Let's see." Eurus said before stabbing her finger onto a remote control on the desk before her.

Marie flinched as the shadow behind her disappeared, indicating Alex had also been dropped to join his brothers.

John and Mycroft both turned to look out the window in shock, while Moriarty's face reappeared on the screen as he called: "The train has left the station!"

Sherlock was standing by the open doorway, still and with his head bowed; he'd hoped he could leave the room, that he could prevent this from happening; after all, Eurus was clearly showing her priority towards him over the others.

But it hadn't worked.

Sherlock walked back into the room, coming up behind John as his friend stared at the empty window while Eurus reappeared on the screen, saying thoughtfully: "No. That felt pretty much the same."

John clenched his teeth, but Sherlock called softly: "John."

John turned to face his friend sharply, his breathing ragged as he breathed deeply through his nose, and Sherlock advised: "Don't let her distract you."

"Distract me?" John repeated tightly, but Sherlock reminded firmly: "Soldiers today."

John stared back at his friend for a beat, before he straightened up determinedly. Sherlock moved his gaze to Marie, who was watching them with another unreadable expression in her eyes. Though, what worried Sherlock more was the fact that he couldn't read her at all – she was hiding something from him.

But Marie nodded at him, her eyes moving to John pointedly, and Sherlock was forced to let the issue rest for now. He would ask Marie what was going on in her mind later.

With one last glance at his brother, who was looking shaken by the what had happened but just as grimly determined as John, Sherlock turned and led the way through the opened door. John followed, while Marie glanced briefly at Mycroft.

He saw her glance, and he raised a brow but she shook her head and walked after John. Mycroft followed her last, sighing slightly and rubbing one hand tiredly over his forehead as he went.

The group made their way down the narrow passageway before coming up on another door, which slid open as Sherlock walked up. He peered inside warily, before leading them inside and the whole group frowned as they took in the darkened room with a single, empty coffin in standing in the centre, lit up by the lights above it.

Sherlock walked over to peer at the simple but elegant coffin intently, frowning as he took in the tiny details both on the inside and outside of the wooden case.

There was a low rumble as the door slid shut behind them while Eurus called over the speakers: "One more minute on the phone."

The speakers let out a dim squeal before there was another click and the little girl called in a terrified voice: "Frightened. I'm really frightened."

Marie was staring at the coffin, her brows furrowed, while Sherlock closed his eyes as he replied to the girl: "It's okay, don't worry. I don't have very long with you, so I just need you to tell me what you can see outside the plane."

"Just the sea. I can see the sea." The girl answered, and Sherlock asked: "Are there ships on it?"

"No ships." The girl answered. "I can see lights in the distance."

"Is it a city?" Sherlock tried, and the girl replied in a trembling voice: "I think so."

Sherlock glanced at Marie and John, who were standing beside him on one side of the coffin, while Mycroft whispered from where he was standing opposite his brother: "She's about to fly over a city in a pilotless plane. We'll have to talk her through it."

"Through what?" John asked just as quietly but sounding confused, when the girl called in a frightened voice: "Hello? Are you still there?"

"Still here. Just give us a minute." Sherlock called back, and Mycroft explained to John softly: "Getting the plane away from any mainland, any populated areas. It has to crash in the sea."

John stared at Mycroft incredulously as he demanded in a whisper: "What about the girl?"

"Well, obviously, Dr. Watson, she's the one who's going to crash it." Mycroft pointed out quietly, and John's jaw dropped.

"No." He argued, keeping his voice low. "W-we could help her land it."

Sherlock glanced between the pair while Marie pursed her lips as Mycroft hissed back at John: "And if we fail, and she crashes into a city? How many will die then?"

"How are we gonna get her to do that?" John demanded, and Mycroft looked pointedly down at the coffin as he answered softly: "I'm afraid we're going to have to give her hope."