Sherlock story

Deleted Memories, Chapter 97

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.

"The difference between the impossible and the possible lies in a person's determination." ~

Tommy Lasorda

Present Day

Donovan picked up her ringing mobile phone as she spotted two figures, and the up and down bobbing of light in the distance. Donovan and the two agents had their torches because of the dark sky. "Yes… (Longer pause)… which direction and highway... (Pause)… what about you… (shorter pause) … alright."

"Come on," she said as she turned around and jogged back toward the car.

"What about Doctor Watson?" One agent asked, "Mr. Holmes wanted us to pick him up."

"Well Doctor Watson wants us to split up so that we can cover more ground, I think he has a point."

Donovan got on the phone to Lestrade. None of the agents said anything else but ran in silence toward the car.

Lestrade answered his phone it was Donovan, "Sherlock is in an ambulance sir… "

Fifteen Minutes Earlier

Němec and his driver drove down a disreputable part of town located on the outskirts of London. They were following an ambulance.

Although he would not admit it to anyone, Sherlock Holmes had not turned out to be as he had anticipated him to be. He had underestimated both the man and the people who were trying to get him back.

He had seen two police vehicles in the last half an hour. He just met up with the ambulance fifteen minutes ago. He would not let the ambulance out of his sight.

Inside the ambulance that Sherlock was imprisoned in, chaos was taking place. The driver periodically glanced back because of the disturbance in the rear, but he knew that stopping to help was not an option until they were safely away from the area. They had not been able to get restraints over the wild man nor were they able to inject him with more drugs.

The one soldier who tried to inject him with a double dose lay helpless and unconscious on the floor after Homes managed to free his hands and push the needle plunger into the soldier before he could push it into him. They left the warehouse so quickly; one dose was all they had. In truth, they did not think that more would be needed. It has been just one man against four.

They were wrong.

Sherlock fought wildly and without restraint. Even though only Ayyad, Němec, or Veselý, were allowed to touch or play with Sherlock; the soldiers' tempers got the better of them .There were punches being thrown on both sides now. Sherlock punched, bit, kicked, and elbowed; he refused to stop moving, and gave no signs of slowing down.

The soldiers were furious, frustrated, and miserable. One, in a fit of rage, pulled out his gun. This little distraction caused the soldier's hands to loosen around Sherlock who used the opportunity to grab at the gun. Both Sherlork and the soldier wrestled with the gun, neither one willing to let go. Rounds of bullets fired off into the enclosed space.

The driver panicked and pulled sharply into an alley when he heard two bullets being fired from the gun with a silencer on. There was a resulting grunt and the thud of flesh being hit.

Several more bullets were fired from the gun and one buzzed pass the drivers head and out the front window shattering a hole in it. In an instant, the driver leaned his whole body to the left to avoid being shot and crashed full speed into the wall of a building in the alley.

There was silence for a moment then three groans seem to echo at the same time. The driver was silent with open vacant eyes, the unconscious drugged soldier was silent, but the soldier who had a wound to his abdomen was moaning as well as the soldier with a bullet in his leg.

There was one more moan as well, Sherlock's. He blinked his eye several times, and looked around slightly dazed. His eye suddenly widened as one thought, two words, came to mind, run and fast. The sound of a car backing up and turning into the alley punctuated that point.

He grunted with the effort of quickly exiting the ambulance and fleeing. Sherlock felt a slight stinging sensation in his side which he ignored.

A hand grabbed at him, Sherlock pulled away ripping the top buttons on his dress shirt and exposing his upper chest. He felt the cold night air hit his chest and body as he scurried out of the ambulance. His ankle protested. His side burned. His head hurt. He ignored it all.

Sherlock ran.

Sherlock ran fast.