Sherlock story
Deleted Memories, Chapter 94
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.
" Joy and grief were mingled in the cup; but there were no bitter tears: for even grief itself arose so softened, and clothed in such sweet and tender recollections, that it became a solemn pleasure, and lost all character of pain." ~ Charles Dickens
Present Day
Sherlock heart beat wildly as he ran through the factory hoping desperately that he was running toward an exit and not into the arms of more soldiers. He knew the general area and had even done surveillance on the abandoned warehouse park, but he had never been in the buildings themselves except for one.
He stopped abruptly.
He found himself in the middle of a long corridor that had a wall with doors leading into rooms on one side and overlooked the factory floor on the other side. A metal rail ran along the side that overlooked the factory floor. It was there to prevent walking persons from falling nine yards to the factory floor below.
On the other side of the corridor was an identical walkway.
Sherlock saw two soldiers running to his left, and on his right, two more were running. One soldier had a slight limp when he ran and was looking particularly angry.
"This is fun," Sherlock hissed irritably. He quickly scanned the area. Time was running out. His mind worked feverishly to find a solution; none was pleasant.
Sherlock ran down the corridor toward one set of soldier. They seemed to look surprised that he was running toward them. Before he reached them, he turned quickly. Sherlock came to a place where a piece of rail was missing and backed up. Sherlock looked to the other side.
"Four-yards, four-yards, it's only four… yards," Sherlock tried to convince himself as his wide eyes looked down. One set of the soldiers almost reached him. Without further hesitation, Sherlock backed up and running jumped.
He felt the rush of air on the back of his neck as someone grabbed for the back of his shirt. The next sound heard was a scream and a thud.
As he was propelled through the air, Sherlock swung his arms and legs, to both propel his body forward and keep his balance.
Sherlock's flight came to an abrupt end as he slammed full force into the metal rail. He was stunned for a moment as the air was violently forced from his chest and a wave of pain radiated from the point of impact outward to the rest of his body.
Sherlock suddenly remembered an important fact; he was trying to escape. Sherlock pushed everything else aside and pulled upward as he grunted from the effort. Sherlock almost managed to pull himself up when he heard the sounds of feet running toward him from the left. He glanced and saw soldiers running out of the corner of his eyes.
"The day gets better and better," Sherlock muttered to himself.
Sherlock looked around, and then he looked down. He stopped as his eyes came upon the body of a soldier. From the odd angle of his head and neck and the open vacant eyes, there was no doubt that he was dead. Sherlock stared, and at that moment he a decision.
Sherlock closed then opened his eyes, he took a deep breath and let go.
Lestrade and Mycroft received phone calls within seconds of each other. Lestrade was on the phone with Donovan. She was close to the site because she had been instructed to survey that location discreetly by Lestrade. She now hurried more.
Mycroft was on the mobile with agents. When Agent Thomas arrived, he was told to take over the operation at that location by Mycroft.
Lestrade put a Yarder in charge and turned quickly to leave.
"May I ride along with you, Lestrade?" Mycroft asked even though everyone knew it was not a request. Anthea was right beside Mycroft and had no intentions of leaving his side.
"Um, sure Mr. Holmes, this way."
Thomas filed something in the back of his mind as he witnessed Lestrade, Anthea, and Mycroft move hastily toward the car. He had never known Mycroft Holmes to run.
John and Myers were close to the warehouse now. The sun would be setting soon. This, in John's mind, was a good thing since this particular warehouse was not close to anything. This would make it more difficult to hide an approach.
Both were sweating slightly from the near two hours of searching. Luckily, both were in good condition. John was used to hours of surveillance and chasing down leads and suspects with Sherlock.
The warehouse finally came into sight off in the distance. John prayed that he was not too late.
Donovan called John and told him that she was on her way.
She glanced grimly at the warehouses in the distant. She decided to drive most of the way until they were closer to the spot that John indicated. She would park the car a short distance from the warehouse that they suspected that Sherlock was being held at. They could at that point proceed on foot when they were close enough. They did not want to alert anyone with the sound of a car.
Backup was on the way, but it would take time to get there. She would not wait. She has a grim feeling that time was the one thing that Sherlock Holmes did not have.
A/N: I am glad that the quotes are appreciated, I am a bit of a quote junkie, but I am seeking therapy.
4 yards is 12 feet.
9 yards is 27 feet.
Lots of Love to all.