Sherlock story

Deleted Memories, Chapter 148

Warning: post Reichenbach spoilers. Hope you enjoy

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A/N: I hope you enjoy these chapters. Thank you for your comments and review. To those of you who are new to commenting, I have noticed (Smile). To my regular family, all my love :)

Love and Teddy bears, Zacha

"Adversity is like a strong wind. It tears away from us all but the things that

cannot be torn, so that we see ourselves as we really are." ~Arthur Golden

Present Day

They made it to the last floor but were immobilized by the gunfire. Thomas and Sherlock had managed to pick off several men who were either dead or wounded, judging from the moaning. The floor they were on, was well light with several skylights. The floor had a large open area with one door on the left, and one on the right, which presumable lead into large rooms. The open area had scattered half walls, with a dusty cubicle area containing furniture. It had been an office at one time.

Sherlock deduced from the cluster of soldiers on their right that, that was the door they needed to go in.

Earlier, they had accidentally ventured into a room with torture devices. A table with restraints, and drugs were also there and neatly organized. The sudden flood of memory had caused Sherlock to become lost for a moment. It took Thomas slapping him hard on the face, for Sherlock to come back to himself. He had nodded apologetically to Thomas who quickly dismissed it and smiled his understanding.

The entire embarrassing episode had been over in less than two minutes and they continued their journey without further incident. Neither man mentioned the occurrence again.

Sherlock took comfort in the fact that there was no blood. He knew from personal experience that if the room had been used, there would have been a lot of blood. At least, that is what he told himself.

There had not been gunfire for seven minutes. This information did not comfort either man. It if fact did the opposite.

"They're trying to sneak around," Thomas whispered.

"The thought had occurred," Sherlock confessed.

"How many did you count that were left?" Thomas asked.

"Three, maybe four. You?" Sherlock looked around.

"The same," Thomas glance at the half wall as he touched it.

"If bullets are shot through these thin half walls, we could still be hit." Thomas returned his attention to the corridors.

"That thought has also occurred." Sherlock glanced at the walls as well.

Thomas glanced around again and made a decision.

"Turn your back to mine, that way we can cover both possible directions of approach."

Sherlock nodded and quickly turned his back to Thomas, both had their gun drawn and waited.

Sherlock took a breath to calm himself and listened. His body suddenly stiffened. He glanced at Thomas, and realized that he heard it too, footsteps approaching.

What occurred next seemed dreamlike.

It was as if time itself had slowed to a crawl, and he was looking at the scene of a movie, not his life and his reality. Sherlock saw the first soldier round the corner of the partition wall. He saw the feet of another who was about to cross. He heard a violent explosion of gunfire, flesh being struck with bullets.

Finally, he heard Thomas as he grunted with pain.

Gunfire exploded suddenly. The sounds were alarmingly close. Anthea simultaneously felt the rush of air from a fired bullet a second after she felt herself pulled back suddenly by Mycroft.

He had his arm straight with his gun pointed out; it had just been fired at a soldier who fell at their feet, dead. She nodded at Mycroft who nodded back. The act seemed to take the last of Mycroft's strength, who now fell heavily to the ground. Anthea caught him best she could so that he would not fall un-cushioned.

They noticed that the gun battle was almost over, and there were other people shooting at the soldiers who were suddenly the ones who were outnumbered. In less than five minutes, they with relief heard an agent give the all-clear call.

Anthea stood and shouted their location.

Within minutes, agents flooded the room. There was a flurry of activity and conversations.

"Sir we need to get you out of here."

"I'm afraid I'm rather tired of walking at the moment. Get the agents out of here, leave ten agents and the bomb expert. All volunteers." Anthea turned to leave but Mycroft held her hand.

"Kitty, all agents without families if possible, and it's time for you to leave as well. We both know that carrying me, you would not be able to make it out of the tunnel in time. The men leaving now may not make it. And, even if I could, we both also know that I'm not leaving a bomb of that kind to blow up in my England."

"Sir, unless I'm fired, I'll give your instructions to the agents, but I'm staying by your side." Anthea was determined.

He was about to argue but thought better and nodded.

Myers ran up to Mycroft. "Are you hit Mycroft?" Her own question was answered as she looked at his right side of his shirt below his unbuttoned vest and saw blood.

"This looked like your handiwork." Mycroft stated changing the subject.

"Sorry I'm late, Sir… But, we need to get you out."

"No." He looked around and spoke with as much authority as he could muster under the circumstances.

"Take me to the bomb site, the rest of you evacuate. I suggest you use haste." Mycroft attempted to stand but was swaying.

There was sudden activity.

Two agents picked up Mycroft as they half walked, half dragged him into the room with the device. Myers followed.

"Did they deactivate the lasers by the doors and windows yet?" Mycroft inquired.

"They're working on it, Sir," Myers said as she secured her gun.

No one could leave through the front doors which was the quickest way, because of the laser triggers that were activated.

Anthea quickly joined him in the room as the bomb expert told them what they already knew. "I can try to crack the code but that would take time."

He was instructed to start to work on the codes straight away.

Everyone looked grimly at the timer as it counted down.

Everyone thought the same thing. A ten-kilometer radius could not be evacuated without causing more death from panic than from the bomb. Depending on the current gust of wind, it could be even more.

"What do we do now, Sir?" Anthea asked.

"We wait for a miracle; I think he may be occupied at the moment." Mycroft replied sincerely.

Mycroft thought of Sherlock.

The entire group of soldiers that remained were dead. Thomas lay on the ground with a bullet in his leg.

"I'm afraid… you'll have to proceed without me…, sir." Thomas eyes were heavy and he was breathing rapidly. Sherlock tied Thomas' necktie to his leg. The wave of pain that resulted when it was pulled tight had cause Thomas to almost pass out.

"Thomas, help is on the way, stay still." He left one gun with him and refilled John's gun with bullets. Sherlock un-wrapped his neck scarf and had it rolled under Thomas head as a cushion.

Thomas nodded.

Sherlock frowned as he took a look at Thomas and turned to leave. Thomas grabbed his coat sleeve.

"Mr. Holmes, don't get yourself killed. I'd h…hate for your brother to h…have me d…disappeared." Thomas meant to say be careful.

"You know me?" Sherlock tried to lighten the moment.

"Yes," Thomas looked somber.

Sherlock smiled at that before his frown returned, "Thomas," He waited for him to focus, "Stay. Awake."

Sherlock waited for Thomas to nod an understanding before he squeezed his arm. He gave him one last glance and stood. He then advanced gun drawn toward the door on the right side of the opened space.

Sherlock took a deep breath as his hand gripped the doorknob.

"Let the show begin," he whispered.

A/N: 10 kilometers is roughly 6.3 miles. Comments please. Love to All.