Sherlock story
Deleted Memories, Chapter 66
Warning: post Reichenbach spoilers. Hope you enjoy
*As always thanks for reading, a special thanks to all of you who take the time to review, comment, and favorite.
"They say that genius is an infinite capacity for taking pains," here marked with a smile. "It's a very bad
definition, but it does apply to detective work." ~ Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
Evening
Present Day
Forty minutes later, the gunshots and smoke cleared.
The house was searched up and down with no child found. John was busy with three people who were injured. Two were terrorists that were bleeding to death and one was an agent. The rest of the terrorists were killed, five total. It was assumed that the rest of Ayyad's men were in another location.
The wails of approaching ambulances were heard in the background.
One agent was down; John was now busy with the downed agent while directing two other men in the care of the terrorists.
Sherlock was off by himself sitting quietly in a chair, with his hands tip-to-tip under his chin.
Sherlock heard heavy footsteps approaching from behind.
"Well… where the child?" Smith asked angrily, "That big mouth of yours, and you were wrong!"
"Take it easy," Lestrade said as he got into Smith's face, while positioning his body between Smith and Sherlock.
Smith looked at Lestrade then Sherlock, grunted and walked away cursing both Sherlock and himself.
Sherlock was sitting on a chair with his fingertips together thinking.
Lestrade walked over and put one of his hands on the chair next to Sherlock.
"Any ideas Sherlock?" Lestrade asked gently. "Was she moved?"
"She's here Lestrade," Sherlock said barely above a whisper, frowning.
"Sherlock unless she's invisible…" Lestrade said.
"What did you say?" Sherlock sat forward suddenly.
"Um, I only said unless she invisible…" Lestrade answered confused.
Sherlock jumped up grunting slightly, and started to search and knock on the walls. "Find out how long it would take the bomb in the front to explode, once detonated. Now Lestrade, help me!"
Lestrade ran off to ask one of the agents.
In the meantime, Thomas and his agents sensing what Sherlock was doing; rushed to help immediately. Lestrade's men and Donovan joined. They all started pacing and looking around the room for anything that looked out of place. Anything that would reveal a hidden handle or button that could be pulled or pushed.
Lestrade came back a few minutes later. "Three seconds, Sherlock."
"And, they were found in the back room, most of their equipment was there, correct?"
Lestrade nodded as understanding came to him.
Sherlock rushed off to the dining room. He was still and looked around moving his head and eyes only. Donovan, Lestrade, Smith, and two other agents followed. The rest continued their search in other rooms.
Sherlock eye fell on a rug, under a table. Sherlock tilted his head and frowned.
He grimaces as he suddenly pulled away the table and pulled up the rug. Lestrade without questioning attempted to help.
Once the rug was pulled away, a cellar door was revealed.
Sherlock stood back then and let Lestrade, Donovan and the other officers and agents take over.
Steep stairs lead to a musty smelling underground room with a bed and a dim light on the table.
Sherlock watched them descend the stair. He looked down. The moldy smell combined with the dim light, and the closed space of the room triggered a memory.
He regulated his breathing, closing his eyes briefly. It was not his usual attacks but Sherlock still felt terror crawling in his belly, biting and scratching his soul. Blinking rapidly, he took a step back from the door, and leaned with one hand on the table.
That was when Sherlock heard it. A child's voice in protest. Someone had untied and un-gagged her.
Instead of whimpering, this child was screaming and angry.
The pull of that child's distress was at that moment stronger than the fear Sherlock felt.
Sherlock swallowed hard, he took a few second to regulate his breathing. It was still coming quickly but better. He then opened his eyes and put his mask in place. Still shaking slightly, he slowly made his way down the steps.