Sherlock handed Moriarty the USB stick.
"Ooh... Missile defence plans," he said, pretending to be interested. "Boring!"
As he threw it into the swimming pool, John rushed forward and head locked Moriarty.
"Do it!" he grunted, trying to get a firm hold on Moriarty.
"What?" asked Sherlock hurriedly, trying to point the gun at his arch enemy, not his flat mate and only friend.
"The mind thing."
"And what do you propose I do?"
"I don't know, change his mind or something."
"I've never influenced, only observed-I'm not sure it can be done," Sherlock explained.
"Just try it!"
Sherlock put down the gun and approached the now interested Moriarty.
"Ooh-What are you going to do to me?" remarked Moriarty in mock fear. "You really do have your little pet trained well, don't you Sherlock?"
John tightened his arm around his neck.
"Ignore him-that's exactly what he wants. Besides, I need him coherent if I have any chance of doing this," warned Sherlock. He took a deep breath in and placed his hands either side of Moriarty's head. The consulting criminal didn't even have a chance to retort, only gasp, as his foe rifled through his mind.
John remained silent, propping the stunned Moriarty up so Sherlock remained uninterrupted. John noticed the detective's face was scrunched up, as if experiencing difficulty. This was true, this had been the deepest Sherlock had delved into anyone's mind and he was trying hard not to lose himself in Moriarty's memories. Also there was that incessant pain that was affecting both men, making the experience even more uninviting.
After what felt like hours, in reality a little more than two minutes, Sherlock vaguely heard his name being called.
"Sherlock!" shouted John for the third time, snapping both him and Moriarty out of the reverie. John stared fearfully at Sherlock's head where three laser dots flitting around. Sherlock understood immediately and took a step back and so did John. Moriarty shook his head as if to get rid of a bad memory and rubbed his temples to relieve the headache that was pounding in his skull.
"Stand down," he boomed, his unexpected words aimed at the snipers. Reluctantly, the quivering red dots retracted from John's and Sherlock's heads. "Consider yourselves lucky I haven't tired of you yet. I'm feeling unusually charitable tonight as to let you two go." He continued, "but I won't let you get so close next time. You haven't touched me yet." A brief expression of puzzlement flitted across John's face before returning to the stoic stare he continued to give Moriarty.
"We'll see what happens next time, Sherlock Holmes and Dr Watson," he finished, walking towards the exit.
"Catch... you... later..." replied Sherlock.
"No you won't!" shot back Moriarty before the door slammed shut. John's shoulders sagged in relief. Sherlock rushed to John, quickly taking off the wired jacket and throwing it away. He rubbed his temples, his brain exhausted by the psychic challenge.
"That thing... you did-It was, er, good." Sherlock was never good at compliments.
"Well, I'm glad nobody saw that."
"What?"
"You, ripping my clothes in a darkened swimming pool. People might talk," joked John. They both both laughed nervously, still shaken from the situation.
"So... I guessed it worked."
"What?" said Sherlock, for not the first time that night.
"The thing, influencing Moriarty."
"Yes. Yes it did."
They both smiled-It had worked. They had survived.