Chapter Eleven

Evacuation

"Yeah, Nick Fury called me a few minutes before I saw you," said Steve Rogers.

They were now sitting in a Starbucks Coffee shop. Sherlock stirred the coffee in his cup, but he hadn't yet drunk any of it. John hadn't ordered anything. He simply watched Rogers and Sherlock.

"He said he needed help, that Loki was back on our planet," Rogers said. "He didn't mention you two. But that's not surprising. There's a lot that he doesn't share."

Sherlock said, "He asked us to help him investigate a series of murders which proved to be the work of this Loki. The murders involve secret military technology which is in danger of being stolen."

"Yeah, that sounds like Fury's line of work."

"But you haven't heard about it before?"

"Not at all, before today. And now I just know what you and Fury told me."

Sherlock said, "It still doesn't make sense. Loki targeted three important SHIELD officials and had a chance to steal the teleporter, but he didn't take it."

"Wait, teleporter?" said Rogers.

"He—"

"Hold on, it's a teleporter?"

"Yes, why? Do you know something about it?"

"No, just—That's pretty crazy. That's all."

"What's more crazy is that Loki had the opportunity to steal it but did not take the opportunity. Why kill three of the key people involved in its construction if you're not interested in stopping its construction? But then, why allow the prototype to stay when you could steal or destroy it?"

John said, "Maybe the prototype is already obsolete. Maybe Fury has a better model already. Loki could be after that instead."

"He would still destroy the prototype, so that they couldn't start over or if they did they'd have to start from scratch. If he's as brilliant as Fury seems to think."

"He's very brilliant," said Rogers. "And dangerous. He can get inside your head, control your mind somehow."

"Yes, I've heard. All very interesting. John, if you weren't interested in the teleporter, why would you kill people associated with it?"

John shrugged. "To protest? To send a message?"

"But Loki has a flair for the dramatic. If he wanted to send a message, he would send a loud, clear message, an unmistakable message."

"To scare someone?"

"Exactly. Loki wanted the people who knew about the teleporter to worry that it was going to be stolen. He wants them to protect it, to panic, to fear for it. Why?"

Rogers spoke up. "Maybe you should ask which people he wants to scare."

"Well, Fury, obviously, and Mycroft." Sherlock stopped stirring his coffee. "Oh," he said, letting out a long slow breath. "Oh, so that's it."

"What?" John asked.

"He doesn't want the teleporter, he wants people. He wanted to draw us into this for some reason. All of us. Think about it! A serial murder with an unknown weapon involving one of my brother's projects. Together with the vague possibility of alien involvement, that's enough to make Fury interested in consulting each of us with Mycroft's help. It's tailor-made, John! A case perfectly suited to us. To get us all in one place."

"You mean, Loki wants us to meet at SHIELD headquarters? But why?"

"To kill us, to enslave us with his mind control. Who knows? The point is, it's a trap. The murders are a trap."

John stood up. "We need to get back there, then. We've got to do something, they're in danger."

"Yes, and we will be too, if we go there." Sherlock pulled out his phone. "Much better to give them a call first, see how things are going. We might warn them to disperse and thereby keep ourselves out of trouble too."

"No, Sherlock, Mary's in there, I'm going."

"John, don't be stupid." Sherlock looked over at Rogers, whose face had become very grim. "Something wrong?"

"If they're in danger, that's my cue," he said. He stood up too. "Feel free to make your call, but I'm going up there to make sure no one gets hurt."

"And if they kill you along with the others? What then?"

"My job isn't to stay alive. My job is to do my duty."

Sherlock was dialing. He already had turned his gaze away from Rogers. "Carry on, then."

Rogers looked at John. "You're coming too?"

"Yes, my wife is in there. Sherlock, call me if there are any developments on your end."

Sherlock didn't respond. He was waiting for someone to answer the phone he had called. He didn't say anything as they walked to the door. John shook his head. But then, as they were about to leave, Sherlock said, "John." John turned around to face him. "Be careful."

Fury and the Doctor ran down the hallway.

"We need to get you out of here," said Fury. "I thought this was the safest place, but evidently we have a breach."

"Evidently! Don't you have security procedures?"

"Those men shouldn't have been able to bring guns into the lobby. Someone on the inside is helping them."

"Someone working for Loki?"

"Maybe. In any case, the personnel at this base can't be trusted. Which means we need to get you people out of here."

"And where will we go? You have a safer place?"

"I told you there were two or three places safer than this. You'll go to one of those."

"Why? They aren't after us, they're after you."

"They didn't come after me until I made contact with you. You people— or at least one of you is the key. That means I need to ensure your safety."

They rushed into the cafeteria. The alarms were sounding there, too. Temperance and Will, who had been talking together, turned to look at them. Hannibal stood quietly with his arms folded. Booth, Mary, and Rose were talking. All of them looked worried, and they stood near each other in the middle of the room, but they did not look panicked. Rose rushed over to meet them.

"Doctor, what is it?" she asked. "What are those alarms about?"

"Mister Fury, you're bleeding!" said Temperance. "Is that a gunshot wound?" She came over to look.

"We're being attacked," said the Doctor.

"Attacked?" Booth said. "As in, attacked attacked?"

"I need all of you to remain calm," said Fury in a loud voice. There was an anticlimax after this, as they all remained calm. "Okay, good. Now, I need you to come with me. We're evacuating this building. I'm going to personally escort you to a safer location. We should be fine if everyone does exactly what I say."

"I'm going to call my husband," said Mary. She pulled out a cell phone and started dialing.

Fury told her, "Keep your conversation as brief as possible. Tell your husband not to come back to headquarters, but don't tell him where you are or who you're with."

"Right," said Mary. Her reply sounded like a respectful courtesy, as if Fury had told her something as obvious as the fact that the earth revolved around the sun.

"All right, people, we don't have much time. Let's move."

They followed Fury, still talking in small groups, out of the cafeteria.

John and Rogers were running toward the car which Sherlock had driven earlier. As they reached it, Rogers asked, "Did SHIELD know that your buddy took their car?"

"Mm, probably not."

"Okay, then."

"You drive," said John.

"But you know the way to the base."

"I'll tell you how to get there, but I'd rather not drive on an American road."

"Oh, right! You guys drive on the wrong side."

"No, you—Never mind, just drive."

As John fastened his seat belt, he felt his phone vibrating. He pulled it out and saw that Mary was calling him.

"Hang on, hang on, it's Mary." He answered it. "Mary, are you all right?"

"John, don't go back to the base. It's not safe."

"Where are you? Are you all right?"

"I can't tell you where we are, but yes, we're fine. We're going to be fine."

"Oh, she's all right, thank God!" said John to Rogers.

"Amen," said Rogers.

"Mary, what should we do?"

"Just stay away from the base. Don't tell me where you are or where you're going. Not right now. I'll find you."

"Mary. No, you can't—"

"We're not safe, John. You're not safe. Not for long, I mean."

"Mary—" But the line was already dead. John swore.

"What did she say to do?" Rogers asked.

"She said we shouldn't go back to the base. She said they're safe but not for long. Why wouldn't she tell me where they were?"

"She's afraid someone is listening in," said Rogers. "What happened?"

"The base is under attack, like Sherlock said. Oh! Sherlock!" He undid his seat belt. "We need to see if he's all right."

"You're right," said Rogers, remembering their meeting. "He definitely overestimates his combat skills."