Sherlock story
Forgotten Memories, Chapter 9
Disclaimer: Sherlock belongs to BBC along with the talented writers and amazing Martin Freeman and Benedict Cumberbatch. No money was made. The story however is my original thought, and comes out of my overactive imagination. Other characters introduced are also mine.
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Author's note: Thank you to the 735 readers of this story so far. Thank you for your support, It is encouraging. A special thank you to everyone who takes the time to comment or review or PM. It is encouraging as well as helpful.
Someone made a story request. Those of you who know me, know that as long as it will not interfere with the integrity of the story, I am happy to fulfill the request. You know who you are, look for it in the next few weeks. :)
T rated but some future chapters may be M.
Things you may need to know 1. Plaster is the same as bandage or, wound dressing2. Holiday can be interchanged with vacation 3. Throw a wobbly is to lose one's temper. 4. A car's boot is a car's trunk.
**Here we go!
Lots of Love, Zacha
"All human wisdom is summed up in two words - wait and hope." ~ Alexander Dumas
Current Day
John looked from the pile of rubble that had once been a building to Mycroft.
Mycroft was leaning heavily against his umbrella yet insisted on coming personally to the site. Thomas was close and talking to people who appeared to be construction workers and engineers. He looked in their direction, said a few more words, and then jogged back.
Mycroft patiently waited for him to come close. "Sir, the room is empty and mostly intact but there is more. A double re-enforced door leads to a tunnel. Some men have explored it. It is mostly undamaged with a small amount of rubble closest to the blast site. It appears to lead to the outside. A man in a suit is dead in the tunnel. A random piece of heavy debris fell on him and broke his neck killing him instantly. They cleared it moments ago and they are following it to see how many kilometers it is, and to see where it exits."
Thomas mobile rang.
"Sorry Sir," A conversation took place. John tried to interpret what was being said on both ends. He found himself growing more impatient with each passing second.
"They have not reached the end yet, but they found something. They are bringing the items here. They should be here soon."
Thomas took a moment to look at both men and to gauge them before continuing. "There was some blood. It's being sent out for priority DNA analysis. The blood seems to not have come from the dead body. There were no traces of blood on it or open wounds. We are trying to make an identification now of both the blood's origin and the man's identity. No additional bodies were found."
Mycroft looked toward the rubble before saying quietly. "They won't find him." Mycroft looked at Thomas. John noticed a spark in his eyes that he had not seen since the bombing.
Anthea exited a car and walked up to Mycroft. She had been off doing some errands that Mycroft requested.
She stood by Thomas. Mycroft looked at them both and then at John and made a deduction. Let's see if I am correct, he thought to himself.
He looked at Anthea and spoke. "I need a schedule of all private transport exiting the country starting seventy-eight hours ago. I need to know the movements of any criminal group that is under priority one and three surveillance. Prioritize that list to any group that My brother have, shall we say, aggravated in the last year. Of course that's probably most of that list." Mycroft hesitated as he looked toward the ruins briefly. "I need protocol twenty-nine to be reactivated."
Mycroft swayed slightly. He closed his eyes as he breathed in and out a few times ignoring the concerned looks as he thought. He felt more stable now. He opened his eyes. It was becoming more difficult to ignore something to his immediate left. He momentarily resisted the temptation to roll his eyes.
Mycroft could almost feel John's glare. It was equally amusing as it was annoying.
John cleared his throat looking pointedly at Mycroft with arms folded.
Mycroft looked John in the face deducing. Mycroft then gave into the temptation and rolled his eyes before saying, "And would someone be so kind as to bring me a chair before the dear doctor here throws a wobbly."
"Sir... everything that you've requested is already done. The reports on the private transport should be transferred within the hour. Everything else that you requested will be transferred to me in one to two hours, and…" Anthea hesitated while looking away briefly before looking back. "A foldaway chair is in the car's boot. Doctor Watson insisted that I bring it, Sir."
Everyone waited for his reaction. But Mycroft only looked at them with a raised eyebrow. "I see."
I was correct, Mycroft mused to himself. He turned to see an agent bringing the chair up to him. He sighed. Not very dignified but it had to be done.
Agent Thomas looked both relieved and amused. Doctor Watson seemed to be the only one who could handle the Holmes brothers. He was also the only one that they allowed to handle them.
John looked at Mycroft. "Lestrade," he said. Mycroft nodded absently. His mind already on the next task.
John picked up his phone and walked slightly away. John's low voice was heard as he spoke to someone on the other phone line.
The small group's attention was turned towards an agent, who ran toward them with some items in his hands.