Author's Note:

Glad you are liking this as much as the other two stories. Thank you for all the reviews so far already!

Mycroft slowly lowered the phone and looked at Sherlock, the color draining from his face. "Hardy Boys," he whispered.

"What?" Lestrade narrowed his eyes in confusion.

"Sherlock, Hardy Boys. We have got a problem. A serious problem." Mycroft stood and started pacing. "He didn't take over Bastion. Somebody else did. We led him into that trap." He shook his head and froze in spot. "What now?" They had at least two hours before the next video, before they were a body closer to John, and they had no way of doing anything. "Shevchenko knows what he is doing. That means he knows about Amy, he knows you can't leave."

Sherlock's eyes narrowed and he forced a shrug. "Dad can take care of himself." He stood up abruptly, ignoring the sensation in his feet. "I'm going to the morgue. You can send your lost puppy with me if you want." He glanced to Lestrade briefly, a humorless smirk on his lips. "Mycroft, make sure Mum and Harry are okay…just in case. If they are, secure them in safe house somewhere. Use people only you trust personally." He took a breath, his mind thinking furiously. "You know what, we should all stick together at this point. Safety in numbers. They got the drop on Dad, Mycroft. Dad. Fuck." They couldn't just drag a baby around everywhere but he wasn't going to let the infant out of his sight for a second. He couldn't be a consulting detective and a father at the same time, could he? Fine. He would stay home for the time being. "Lestrade, call Molly. I want to set up a conference call on the laptop. I want to see Sarah's autopsy report, see if any foul play was involved." Not just Sherlock's world was crumbling around him, but John's also. Hopefully, they would have the resolve to see this thing through to the end.

Mycroft nodded and was on the phone instantly, talking to several people to make sure both Mum and John's sister were safe. It took a bit of negotiation but he managed to secure a safe house for both them. "They will be together," he muttered. "Hope they like it." A small smirk, the only bit of humor in the situation, and watched as Lestrade picked up his phone, careful with the infant in his arms, and called Molly. In a few seconds Molly was calling Sherlock on the laptop, looking worriedly at the autopsy report.

"Hi, Sherlock." She bit her bottom lip and flashed a weak smile. "Just finished it this morning. We..." A pause, her eyes locked on the screen in front of her. "It's... We are looking at poison, I think. Somehow managed to get Sarah and not the baby. Don't know how, really." She was stumped and looked around for a moment. "I sent a picture to Lestrade's mobile." The object was tossed in his direction. "You can look over it but she didn't die naturally. She should still be alive."

Sherlock sank back on the floor in front of the laptop, nodded at Molly's words and he picked up the cell phone on the floor near him. He clicked open the picture and was slightly startled when Hamish meowed in his ear. He had forgotten the cat was on his shoulder. "Yes, now be quiet. You know I hate it when you distract me from thinking." The cat dug its claws into his shoulder, jumped off, and stalked into the kitchen. Ignoring the feline, he glanced to his older brother. "I should have told John about Moriarty's people after him. Maybe if I had, he would have been more prepared. He wouldn't have been caught flat footed. I screwed up Mycroft. I made a mistake." In anger he threw Lestrade's phone against the wall hard and it landed on the floor in multiple pieces.

"Oi," Lestrade muttered, staring at what was left of his mobile on the floor. He tensed and glanced at Amy as she stirred in his arms.

"Calm down, Sherlock, it's fine." Mycroft crouched next to him and shook his head. He couldn't think like that, needed to keep his head clear. A hand moved to rest gently on Sherlock's shoulder and he lowered his voice. "Normal case. Don't think about anything else. Normal." He turned toward the laptop and smiled the best he could at Molly. "Send that picture to my phone, please?"

"Yes, of course." She glanced nervously at Sherlock before Mycroft's phone went off. "There we go. Now, Amy is fine. The drug was meant to induce an early labor. It didn't actually start killing Sarah until after the Cesarean section." She studied the papers before shrugging. "But I've never seen anything like this before."

"We've got a little under two hours to try and see what we can find. Thank you, Ms. Hooper, we will be in touch." Mycroft ended the call and held his phone in front of his younger brother. "Don't throw this one."

"Stop saying that! This isn't a normal case!" Sherlock shoved his older brother's hand off his shoulder. He only dimly heard what Molly said, as he sulked on the floor. He snatched the phone presented to him. Focus. He needed to focus. It was difficult to do. Usually he just spent time alone to think about a case if it was necessary, but that really wasn't an option right now. He could do this. He clicked open the file and read through it slowly and carefully. He put the phone down on the floor, reached over and picked up a file he had briefly glanced through previously. "Doctor Hans Grutten, German obviously. He was a gynaecologist but lost his license after using questionable methods on pregnant women that usually resulted in their deaths and sometimes the unborn babies. Disgraced he fled Germany and sought refuge here in London under a different name, Fritz Diefendorf. I think that is a good place to start…"

Mycroft tensed and stood up slowly, looking around the flat as Sherlock made his deductions. "It's the best place we can start. I'm assuming that would be the doctor Sarah had been seeing?" He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and sent a quick text. "I've got somebody on it now. We can't really leave with Amy here. She is most comfortable with you." He glanced at Lestrade who was still keeping his eyes trained on his ruined cell phone.

"I can get Donovan on it, too. She is healed, recently off of desk work." Lestrade smirked slightly. "Owes John a big thank you for saving her life."

Sherlock nodded at his brother and then looked over to Lestrade. "Oh get over it. I'll buy you a new one when this is all over." It was as close to an apology as he would get and he looked back down at the laptop. He began playing the first video again, this time taking the time isolate the sound bites. He removed the primary sound waves and concentrated on the background noise. Men speaking quietly: Russian. Not a surprise. "The men with Shevchenko are also Russian. Probably men of his own choosing and not necessarily part of Moriarty's ring. Do you have list of his known associates somewhere around here?" He began sifting through the piles of information.

"We might," Mycroft muttered as he sat beside Sherlock again. "If they aren't part of Moriarty's ring, though..." His voice trailed off and he tried to locate a paper. "I've got a few names. Aleksandr Levanda looks like Shevchenko's lead man. Only name we've got out of that group. That's two down, two without identities." The paper was handed to Sherlock. "Levanda escaped from prison six years ago. Probably had Shevchenko's help to get out because of Moriarty." After a long pause Mycroft managed to ask the question that had been bugging him for quite a while. "Why John?"

Sherlock looked through Levanda's file. "Rape, assault and battery, murder and a long list of misdemeanor's as a child. Sounds like a real charmer." He glanced over to his older brother at the question. "Well, initially Moriarty was after me. To break me down and destroy me, which would eventually end up with me dead by some means. He targeted John, knowing it was the best and easiest way to get to me. Now, I think they are targeting John this time. He knows something but I'm not sure what it is. I don't even know if he knows. They are breaking him down psychologically. Thus the torture and killing of the soldiers when he says their names. Sending the videos, clear power play. The people we are dealing with are sadists and will inflict the maximum amount of pain on anyone they can, anyway they can. I'm not sure how Dad fits into this. God only knows how much information he knows on whatever. The text the Old Man sent, let me see it."

Mycroft handed his phone off without question, looking at Sherlock with a calm gaze. What else could he do? "I just don't see how kidnapping everybody is going to do anything," he whispered, tensing when the laptop indicated there was another new e-mail. "Early. Very early," he whispered. He didn't hesitate to open it and click play.

"Who's Sherlock Holmes?" The masked man held a silver ring between his fingers, a grin on his face. John lifted his head, panting and covered in blood. "Tell me." The man demanded. John was quiet, spiting blood on to the ground and swaying slightly to one side before a second man caught him. "Tell me."

"Fiancé," John replied softly. "He's my fiancé."

"Oh, is he now? Isn't that adorable. You've got yourself a lover back home." The man tossed the ring somewhere behind him and John dropped his head. "We've got your cell phone. Cute kid. Bastard child?" John was silent again, his head jerking to the side as a man delivered a hard punch to his right cheek. "She is, then? Couldn't handle Sherlock, could you? Slept with some whore and now you've got a parasite for life?"

"She wasn't a whore." John growled.

"Sarah Sawyer? Oh, but she was. You weren't the only one." The masked man approached John and he didn't hesitate to smash his forehead into the other man's, earning him a blow to the head with the butt of an assault rifle. The video ended.

Mycroft was going to be sick. They knew. They knew everything. And John didn't even know why he was there.

"I'll kill them. Kill them all," Sherlock said darkly, his posture rigid. He tore his eyes away from the laptop and looked down to the text message received as he tried to decipher a hidden message, if any. "I think Dad got captured on purpose. It's what I would do. He and I are reckless like that. Says he has a team looking for John and his company. That's probably true. He runs a tight ship, and his men follow his orders without question. Loyal only to him. What's Dad's second in commands name again? You keep up on father's endeavors more than I do." He looked up at Mycroft expectantly.

Mycroft took a deep breath and rubbed the back of his neck. "Joseph Blair?" He turned his gaze to his brother with a small shrug. "There's a good chance Blair is there. He's ruthless. If he is then Dad probably did send him out there." The laptop caught his attention for a brief moment before he glanced at Lestrade, asleep with Amy curled against his chest. "With that last video we might see a mix now. Between the murders and just breaking him down."

"Yeah, him. I would go as far to say more ruthless. Doesn't exactly have a moral compass pointing north. In fact his only redeeming quality is his ridiculous loyalty and devotion to Dad. And yes, thank you for stating that startling obvious revelation." Sherlock muttered the last part. He was frustrated and taking it out on anyone around him seemed the easiest course of action.

"I'm just trying to help," Mycroft snapped back, waking Lestrade up and causing Amy to stir and make a small cry. It didn't take long for her to wake fully, letting out several loud cries. "You or me?" Mycroft glanced at his younger brother with a bit of a frown, wincing from the increasing noise.

"I'll get it, dears." Mrs. Hudson moved into the room proudly, taking Amy in her arms and effortlessly moving to the changing table. "How's the search for John going?" She didn't bother to look up as she asked.

Sherlock was about to get up and tend to little Sandi when Mrs. Hudson came in. He gave a very faint smile of thanks. He was about to ask how she knew about John but then remembered it was international news. "Mycroft, can you find out who leaked the news? Might help track down the traitor or more likely traitors at this point."

"The report came out of Bastion directly. We don't have a name." Mycroft looked at Sherlock with a shrug. "I was hoping Dad could have solved that problem but he didn't." His eyes turned to Mrs. Hudson who had already changed Amy and was making a bottle with skill he envied.

"Sherlock, dear." Mrs. Hudson turned as she stuck the bottle in Amy's mouth. "There's a note from John in here."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes a bit. When had John had time to write a note? Was it really from the army doctor? He got up off the floor, ignoring the pain in his feet yet again. Sore feet were the least of his worries right now. He took the note and read it.

Sherlock,

I've given this letter to Mrs. Hudson. I knew she would be able to give it to you.

At this point I don't really know where our lives are at but if you are reading this then I'm back in Afghanistan. Sarah should still be expecting. Be excited. I think you'll make a great father.

But the real reason why I'm writing this is because things are going to happen. A lot of things that I know will upset you. I've got information and I've been protecting it for the sake of your Dad. He asked me to. It's all high-tech military stuff. He trusted me. But that means that people are after me. Going back to Afghanistan is your Dad's orders to keep him safe. And to keep you safe. I don't know if I'll make it back alive. Going back means I'll get caught and something will happen. Just know that I love you. You have made my life such a happy one and I owe you so much for that. Please, take care of Sarah and Amy. Let them know I love them.

Don't forget me.

John

Mrs. Hudson held Amy as she ate loudly, glancing at the note before looking down at the little girl in her arms. "Look at you," she whispered as she sat in John's chair.

"Sherlock?" Mycroft stepped forward hesitantly, not daring to lay a hand on his younger brother. "What is it?"

Sherlock read the note three times, ignoring everyone and everything around him. His gaze finally lifted to Mycroft and he crumpled the paper some as he shoved the paper into his older brother's hands. "Did you know about this?" A whole new rage washed over him. "I can't continue to stay at the flat. I have to go. Find him." His eyes looked over to little Sandi next. Christ, she was going to grow up without both parents. Could he really just leave? The old Sherlock would leave without a second thought. Now, he was having second thoughts. If Mycroft had spoken, he didn't hear because he was far too focused on his thoughts. He muttered something incomprehensible, stumbled to his room, slammed the door shut and slid down it to a sitting position. He rammed his head against the wooden door heavily, not caring about the pain and headache he had just caused. "God damn it!" He swore loudly.

Mycroft managed to hold on to the note, watching Sherlock stomp off before reading it himself. "Oh... fuck..." He looked up at Lestrade before grabbing his phone. How did this get past him? How in the world had John managed to avoid detection by Sherlock? The man could read everything and John had managed to slip past him. And only for the safety of their Father and his future husband. Bravery in the stupidest form, really. What did he do now? He couldn't call their Dad, he was in trouble right now.

Mrs. Hudson held on to Amy tighter, looking at the innocent little girl helplessly. "Oh, Amy," she whispered with a smile as the infant let a little hand swing wildly in the air, her eyes wandering the room.

"Sherlock, I didn't know." Mycroft moved to the door, pressing his forehead against it. "I had no idea. Nobody told me."

Ignoring his brother, Sherlock reached up and locked the door. He got back to his feet and walked over to the night stand where the bottle of pain medication was. He opened the bottle and dumped four into his hand. He sat down on the bed, staring at the pills. He had a strong desire to escape reality right now. Mild sedatives weren't his choice for getting high, but it was all he had right now. Disgusted and angry at himself, he threw the pills across the room and they clattered against the wall before falling to the floor.

There wasn't much Mycroft could do with Sherlock locked away in his room. He closed his eyes for a long moment and tried to wiggle the doorknob before moving away. "Fine, don't help. I'm sure John will be just wonderful without you." With that he moved back into the living room, forcing himself to watch the three videos to try and figure anything out.

Mrs. Hudson sat in John's chair while Lestrade sat in Sherlock's, both keeping their focus on Amy and keeping her as calm and distracted as possible.

Still ignoring Mycroft, Sherlock laid down and turned away from the door. He needed time to think. Time to process everything. It was hard to concentrate when he was feeling a flurry of things all at once. A year ago he never would have had this problem. Damn John for making him vulnerable. He sighed. It wasn't the army doctor's fault. He continued to lay there for several minutes thinking and going over everything. Eventually he got up, unlocked the door and strode back out to the living room. "Did you keep tabs on that nurse, Samantha I believe? The one who came home with John after being shot."

Mycroft turned and looked at Sherlock. It was hard to be upset and he let relief flood his features. "I did." He turned quickly to the files on the floor, picking one up and flipping through almost every page before freezing. "Army nurse. Currently stationed at Camp Bastion, Afghanistan. It seems Moriarty and Moran rather enjoy using Russians to do their dirty work. Alyona Zukov. Changed her name to go undercover at the hospital. I think we just found our spy. Do you think Dad knows?" He turned to glance at his younger brother, holding the paper out for him to investigate.

"I knew I should have killed that bitch when I had the chance. While she may be the spy, that still doesn't explain how they got the drop on John's company and took over Bastion." Sherlock sat on the floor once more. He reached over on the coffee table and got the foot ointment. As he applied it to his feet, he spoke again. "Who knows what Dad does or doesn't know at this point? Interesting the Old Man trusted John, when he didn't really care for him to begin with. What about the circumstances of John's first company? Was there anything suspicious about their deaths? Or just wrong place wrong time?"

"It sounds like it was weapons related. So what, the guys who have John and Dad are after those weapons? Or maybe the intel on them? Have you been working on a new weapons program that is particularly progressive?" Sherlock was trying to fit all these puzzle pieces together but nothing seemed to fit. "We have Russians, The Golem, a missing company, a missing cargo plane, a company wiped out, a base taken over, John and Dad working some secret project, a disgraced German doctor, and Sarah's death. It seems they are all connected, we just have to figure out how..." He was just talking to himself at this point, brows furrowed in thought as he tried to think how they were all related. Some things made more sense than others, but it was more speculation and guesswork than actually knowing for sure at this point. "I keep thinking Dad will check in any minute now but nothing yet..."

"If the government has been working on something then I don't really know what it is." Mycroft sat beside his brother and closed his eyes for a long moment. It was all so much. Everything that could be going wrong seemed to be and there were so many people involved. "I think that Dad has a few things going on, Sherlock. It's clear he was in a bit of trouble. By now he knows that you know John's been working with him."

"Think you could find out? Surely you know some passwords of dad's or at the very least over ride them? Your practically the entire British Government, for God's sake. I can't imagine anything being above your pay grade. Not even Dad." Sherlock was getting frustrated just sitting around in the flat. "Has that doctor been picked up yet? I would love to have a chat with him." He smirked darkly, eyes slightly narrowed.

"I could. I'm not sure we really want to know, though. We've got to make the assumption that they'll know we looked it up. That is putting us in danger. And Amy." Mycroft looked at his brother with a worried expression. "If I'm going to look it up I'm doing from my home. I'm not putting you in danger." It was stated as an order, no room for argument. "I will do it in a few hours but I'm not telling you. I'm keeping you safe." He picked up the files to flip through them, quickly attempting to change the subject. "He has. He has been detained. I can take you if you really want to go. Private interrogation room."

Sherlock shrugged a bit, although he was unhappy with Mycroft's decision. No point in arguing, it would just be a waste of time. He flipped through Doctor Grutten's, or rather Diefendorf now, file. He glanced to his older brother, "You should stay here with Lestrade. Make sure little Sandi and Mrs. Hudson are kept safe." He didn't want to leave but he figured he would get faster results than Mycroft or his people. Everything he would need to break the man was in the file he was holding.

Mycroft gave a small nod of his head. "Alright. I will get it arranged. I'm sure I don't have to warn you that he will use things against you. Go in like you always used to. No emotions. Pretend John doesn't exist." It hurt to say to his younger brother but it was necessary. If they were going to get anywhere Sherlock needed to be detached. "I'll take care of Amy. Stay focused." He put a hand on the side of Sherlock's face before drawing him into a hug. The consulting detective needed that much after the past few hours.

Sherlock didn't return the hug, but he allowed his older brother to embrace him. After a moment of thought, he took the necklace with the wedding band on it off. It was better not to wear it into the interrogation, as it could potentially be used against him. He passed it off to Mycroft. "Little Sandi might like this as much as the dog tags. Those are on the mobile above her crib, by the way. No interruptions, even if you get another video. Any distraction could cause me to lose him." He took a few minutes to get ready and clean up. Better to look fresh, professional, intimidating. He left the flat and took the ever present black car waiting outside. He read through the file again, during the ride.

Mycroft took the ring and turned to Lestrade as his brother left, moving to sit on the couch with a heavy sigh. It was going to be a long day.