"And what is this?" a tall man who was clearly in his late forties asked the Russian as he deposited Sherlock's body onto the ground. The consulting detective moaned as he went down and hit the floor. Using all his might, he tried to worm his way up but he failed to do so and fell straight back down onto the hard carpeted floor.

"Sherlock Holmes," the Russian man said proudly, looking down onto the limp form of Sherlock whilst his boss did the same and then looked back into the assasin's.

"I thought I instructed you to bring me his bird?" the man asked him and the Russian simply just shrugged lightly and looked at his boss in puzzlement. He thought he would have been happy.

"You did," the Russian agreed. "But he interrupted whilst I was trying to catch her."

"Trying? It took you effort to catch a young woman who is weak due to the loss her child?" the man checked and he looked around his office and shook his head. "You're pathetic," he sneered.

"She was strong!" The Russian said quickly whilst Sherlock made a grunting noise on the floor.

"Of course she was," sarcasm took hold of the man's voice. "But you did well I suppose."

"Thank you very much Mr Morris," the Russian sounded full of glee at his boss' approval and the man named Mr Morris nodded.

"You may go now," he instructed the Russian. But as the man turned on his heel, Mr Morris pulled out a gun from his jacket pocket and he quickly took aim, shooting the Russian in the back of the head. The assassin fell to the floor, blood seeping out from his lifeless body as Mr Morris clicked his fingers and the mess was cleaned up. Slowly, he placed his gun back into his pocket and looked down on Sherlock.

"He didn't obey orders," the man drawled. "And neither did you. Unfortunately for you, I have a much better ending for your death."

Twenty four hours later

"So you're saying that someone just broke in, started to try and attack you both and then managed to knock you out? Kidnapping Sherlock as they did so?" Lestrade checked and Scarlett and John quickly nodded. It had taken a while for both of them to come round from the injection they had been given and they had deduced that the best thing to do was to alert the police of Sherlock's disappearance.

"That's what happened," Scarlett confirmed, walking around the flat, looking for anything to figure out where the Russian could have taken Sherlock, trying to see if he had left any clues.

"This is madness," Lestrade shook his head. "So you're also saying that he has been kidnapped by this loan shark for interfering in his business."

"We think that is the reason for it, yes," John confirmed.

"Well I'll see what I can do," Lestrade sighed.

"See what you can do?" Scarlett snapped at him. "You'd best be doing more than seeing what you can bloody do."

"I can't have every policeman out in London searching for him Miss Jenson," Lestrade informed the girl and she snorted loudly.

"After all that he has done for you I think that is the least you can do for him!" she snapped at Lestrade. "How many killers has he caught for you? How often do you say you need him?"

"It's a big day coming up Miss Jenson...New Years Eve and most of the officers are preparing for it."

"That's not for another two days!" Scarlett snapped. "God only knows what may have happened to him by then!"

"I'll do my best Miss Jenson," he promised her. "I'll have men searching the CCTV to see if there is any suspicious activity. Apart from that then there really is nothing more for me to do."

"This is ridiculous," Scarlett mumbled and grabbed her coat, shrugging into it and then reaching for her bag and gloves. John began to copy her movements, asking as he did so;

"Where are we going?"

"To the Houses of Parliament or wherever it is he hides."

...

"Miss Jenson," his smooth and slightly creepy voice rang out as he saw the woman and John stood in his office, looking over at him with narrowed eyes. "What an unexpected surprise."

"We need your help," Scarlett told him. "It's Sherlock."

"What has my brother done now?" Mycroft replied. "And I am very sorry to hear about your child."

"Yes," Scarlett said curtly. "Sherlock's been kidnapped."

"Are you sure he hasn't just wandered off?" Mycroft asked her. "As a child he used to do that for days on end."

"I'm sure," Scarlett replied. "Because the man who broke into our flat and knocked John and I out took him...we think it is the loan shark you know of who has taken him."

"Impossible," Mycroft whispered. "I would have known by now."

"Because you have Irene Adler as a double agent?" Scarlett raised her eyebrows and Mycroft's mouth parted slightly.

"And how would you know that, Miss Jenson?" he asked Scarlett.

"Sherlock talks out loud when thinking," she told him. "He doesn't mean for me to hear but I often do."

"Like I said," Mycroft replied. "If my brother had been kidnapped then I would have known about it."

"Would you listen to her?" John snapped at the elder Holmes. "He has been kidnapped and we know it is by this loan shark. If you don't plan to help us then we don't care. But we need a name and an address."

"That is top government business," Mycroft replied. "Nothing for you two sidekicks of my brother to worry about."

"For God's sake," Scarlett mumbled and she outstretched a hand and pulled the gun from John's jacket out, leaving the man wondering what the hell she was playing at as she pointed the gun at Mycroft.

"I am fed up," Scarlett began, "of not getting satisfactory answers from anyone. Now tell me, where is he?"

"And do you really think you'll be able to shoot me and get away with it Miss Jenson?" Mycroft asked her. "There are cameras all around here. You pull that trigger and it will be the last thing you do."

"Just tell me where he is!" she yelled. "This is your brother! Why don't you believe us?"

"Because I don't need to take your word when I have my own source who has not reported my brother's disappearance," Mycroft told her.

"Has it ever occurred to you that Miss Adler doesn't know Sherlock has been kidnapped?" she asked him and he remained silent.

"She would have known," he spoke with feeble determination whilst Scarlett took the gun from safety mode and it made a clicking noise.

"Where is he?" she tried again, moving closer to Mycroft whilst John stood behind her.

"Scarlett," he said warningly. "Shooting him won't get an answer."

"It would make me feel better," she replied and then had an idea. "Raid his drawers John."

"You can't do that!" Mycroft snapped and Scarlett pressed the gun further into his temple.

"Unless you want to tell us where he is then we have no choice," she replied. "Now I don't really want to shoot you because you're Sherlock's brother even though I do truly detest you."

"Charming Miss Jenson," he replied to her whilst John began turning out drawers to his desk.

"Thank you," she said. "But I don't really want to kill you, I just want to know where Sherlock is and this seems the only way to find out."

"I've found Irene's folder!" John suddenly exclaimed and he began flicking through it. "She's recently been put onto Ian Morris' case...and how does a loan shark end up with an office in Canary Wharf?"

"Well," Mycroft drawled. "When he's just a supposed mortgage lender it isn't difficult. If no one knows of your illegal activities then why not live in luxury?"

"And is that him?" Scarlett pushed Mycroft. "Is that the loan shark with Sherlock's case?"

"I think you already know that is a yes Miss Jenson," Mycroft drawled and Scarlett took the gun from his head. "I'd say that child had a lucky escape not having you as a parent. Asking dense questions like you just did then the poor thing had no hope whatsoever."

And then Scarlett used the top of the gun and slammed it onto Mycroft's head, knocking the man cold as he fell back into his chair.

"Since when did you become accustomed to violence?" John asked her, taking his gun back and then Irene Adler's file before rushing from the building with Scarlett.

"Sherlock taught me," Scarlett said. "He taught me how to threaten people and manipulate them so that they talk."

"Are you sure this is a healthy relationship?" John asked her and she grinned sadly once and looked at him.

"Is it hell," she replied.

...

"Take these," a feminine voice spoke and Sherlock sat up from the sofa he was residing on. His head was pounding and all the lights seemed too bright for him. He knew he was locked in an office next door to the one Mr Morris occupied. He also knew that there were five men guarding the corridor in the large building and so any chance of escape was impossible for him to fathom.

"What are you doing here?" he asked after hearing the distinct voice of Irene Adler as she made him sit up, popping the aspirin into his mouth and then handing him the water.

"Looking after you apparently," she told Sherlock and rested a hand onto his forehead and checked his temperature. "That is until Mr Morris decides to kill you."

"We're allowed to say his name now?" Sherlock checked and she chuckled.

"Don't worry," she assured him. "It's not like he's called Voldermort."

"Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself," Sherlock quoted a line from the Harry Potter book and Irene laughed again, the noise hurting Sherlock's head.

"She's gotten you into the books then?" Irene asked.

"She wouldn't let me shoot the walls anymore," Sherlock pouted.

"Apparently she is looking for you," Irene said and received another phone call from Mycroft which she chose to ignore for the seventh time, the gesture not going unnoticed by Sherlock.

"Is she really?" Sherlock asked. "And will she find me?"

"No idea," Irene drawled and rejected another phone call.

"I think my brother wants to talk with you," Sherlock commented. "Not very good at this double agent business, are you?"

"Oh Sherlock," she chuckled. "You have no idea."

"Oh I know," Sherlock said quickly. "The cheque sticking out of your pocket is enough to tell me that Mr Morris has bought your services. Has he not?"

"Very good," she congratulated him. "He paid me rather generously. And I was becoming tired of working for your brother...especially when he said my pay was to be cut...how ridiculous is that?"

"So you've turned to the criminals," Sherlock made a 'tut' noise. "How predictable of you."

"It's much more exciting," she assured him. "You should have tried it."

"I'm doing fine on my own thank you," Sherlock replied.

"Apparently not considering your death is coming soon," she remained tight lipped. "And it will be a shame Sherlock...for you really are a talented man."

"I know," Sherlock grumbled. "It's a burden."

"I can imagine," she stood up and looked down onto him. "Are you not even curious as to how you're going to die? It would only be right to send you out with a big bang, don't you think?"

"These walls aren't soundproof Miss Adler," Sherlock told her and laid back down onto the sofa, looking at the ceiling with narrowed eyes. "I know exactly how Mr Morris plans to kill me."

...

A/N: I know how he plans to kill him too! I have this whole idea in my head and I just need to write it down. Anyway, I hate to say that we are almost coming to the end of the story. I believe there are a couple or so chapters left to come and then that shall be all. However; if I receive enough requests then I may contemplate thinking of a sequel. I will update soon so I thank you for reading and please do leave me a review! Thank you!