Greg was halfway to the Watson's. There was a small suitcase with necessities sitting on the passenger seat. Each item had been meticulously examined and found clean. He was approaching a traffic light, when a black car came screeching to a halt in front of him. He swore, barely managing to avoid a collision. Before he could step from the car, three more cars blocked him in. This couldn't be good. He hit the button to lock the doors.
A man in a suit approached the passenger side of the DI's car, his hands raised to show he wasn't carrying a weapon. Greg cracked the window a bit, just enough to hear what the man might have to say.
"Detective Inspector Lestrade, Mr. Holmes has sent us to collect you. If you'll please come with us…"
Greg debated. This seemed like something Sherlock's brother might orchestrate, but how could he be sure that Mycroft was really behind this?
"In the event that you should question our identities, I was instructed to remind you of your assistance at Baskerville."
With a sigh, Greg opened the door and climbed out of the car, pulling the suitcase behind him. He handed it off to the man. "Could you see this gets to Mr. Holmes' brother?" He didn't bother telling the man where Sherlock was, he probably already knew anyway.
Mrs. Hudson opened the door to 221 to find Mycroft's PA standing there.
Anthea smiled briefly, for once putting away her phone and stepping forward. "Mrs. Hudson, Mr. Holmes sent me. I'm afraid you'll need to gather a few things and come with me."
Hands fluttering at her chest, Mrs. Hudson objected, "Oh, dear me. I couldn't possibly." She looked over her shoulder back towards the door to her flat. "I have scones in the oven and Mrs. Turner…"
"The matter pertains to Moriarty."
The normally intrepid Mrs. Hudson let out a small "Oh" as she slumped against the doorframe. "I'll just get my things."
At the sound of the morgue doors swinging open, Molly looked up from the corpse she had been examining. There were three suited men walking towards her.
She frowned, then stepped forward. "I'm sorry, but you can't be in here."
The taller of the men smiled and explained, "Actually, we can. We've been sent my Mycroft Holmes. Considering your part in faking his brother's death, he's concerned for your safety. I'm afraid you'll have to come with us."
The other two men spread out, looking around the room, observing.
Molly's heart sped up, it was almost beating out of her chest. This had to be about Moriarty. "Just give me a mo. I need to fetch my purse." She turned to walk to her desk in the back of the room only to have a gun shoved in her face.
"No time for that, I'm afraid," the gun wielding man told her.
The first man shook his head ruefully. "Was that really necessary? She would have walked out of here without raising a fuss."
"Oh, I've got that figured out." He gestured towards an empty body bag. "We'll take her out that way."
Molly started to scream, but was cut off as the gun hit her hard on the head and her world went black.