Sherlock story
Forgotten Memories, Chapter 19
A 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.
T rated but some future chapters may be M.
REQUEST ALERT: One of you requested something; look for it in these chapters. (Smile)
"Never, never, never give up!" ~ Winston Churchill
In a safe house in a remote location, the tell tale beeping sounds echoed in the small space. A tall lanky young man walked quickly into the room. He frowned as he looked at the screen. His eyes suddenly widened. He pushed a button quickly then pulled out the USB portable storage device and put it into the computer.
He carefully interpreted words as it raced across a blacken screen. A series of longitudes and latitudes were also scrolled across the screen. His fingers raced across the monitor as he typed in numbers and symbols requesting the needed permission.
He waited impatiently.
He stood under the hot running water. Rivets of water race downward, aided by the pull of gravity unnoticed as it slashed on the shower floor. His body was partially under the water and he stared straight ahead at nothing. He barely noticed that he had not finished shampooing his hair. His mind was lost on several projects at a time as he categorized and strategized his day. He came out of his mind and blinked a few times.
Mycroft heard it again, his heart race. No one would interrupt him in the shower except for war, a complete financial failure, an assassination, wanted or not wanted, or Sherlock.
His butler did not wait for a response, "Sir," he held his phone out as he picked up his robe and held it out for him. Mycroft answer and spoke with authority removing all emotions from his voice.
"Yes, do it immediately, consider this the highest priority."
Stream rolled out the room as he pushed the door open roughly; he started walking briskly.
"Send me all the information on who is the analyst, his record, history, his mother's favorite song, everything. Also, I want to speak to him personally."
He hung up the phone abruptly. "Did Doctor Watson leave last night or is he still in one of the guest rooms?" It was not unusual for John to stay over if they had a late night tracking down a lead on Sherlock.
"Yes, sir one of the cars dropped him off around one in the morning." The man answered as he followed Mycroft's quick movements into the dressing room that was neatly filled on four sides with suits.
"Get a suit ready," he said absently as he thought.
"Which one sir?" He knew that Mycroft was particular when it came to his appearance.
"I don't care; the quickest one but match everything of course." A solitary soapy drop of water rolled down his face. Mycroft sighed impatiently as he hurried back to the shower.
His butler raised an eyebrow at the normally unflappable man as he hurried to lay his clothing out.
As Mycroft walked briskly back toward the shower he pushed in a button. It was answered on the first ring.
"Yes," John said breathlessly.
"John we found something." He slowed his steps down as he frowned. "John, do take a breath."
He heard John swallow hard then say, "Breath taken." After a pause, the sounds of keys jingling were heard.
John then asked, "How close is the car?"
"Four to five minutes. Traffic will be in your favor. You will arrive here quickly." Mycroft informed John.
"Right, see you then." Both calls were disconnected. Mycroft let his robe fall to the ground as he stepped quickly back into the shower. He rinsed the soap from his hair hurriedly.
It came within ten minutes. He noted to himself that that was the fastest that he had ever received permission. He pushed in the codes and symbols and then he grabbed a cup of coffee.
He waited.
Slowly an image of the earth came up. Soon it was the image of the coastline of a country. Forest and trees were scattered. Clouds were seen next. An image of a clearing and several roads with a rectangle shaped object came on the screen. The object became larger and more defined as the image zoomed in. Now it was a clear image of what appeared to be a mansion located on a large acreage of land.
The tall lanky young man smiled, impressed with himself and his speed. He typed in the findings and a message which appeared instantly on the computer screen. He hit send.
He turned to get his coffee expecting it to be another ten minutes for a reply. Within a second screams of data flowed back to him. He looked curiously and frowned, the smile suddenly left his face. He typed back some information. This time he waited in front of the screen, unmoving as Intel flooded back in. He disbursed it to several countries and several different agencies.
He waited for a few seconds and then exhaled a breath. It was a strange turn of events, but it seemed to be over now. He stretched his hand to pick up his coffee when a phone rang. Not a phone, the phone.
The one that never rang, rung.
The lanky man's frown deepened as he quickly picked up the phone.
"Hello," he said. An ID number was given and authenticated. Fear came as he realized who he was speaking to, personally.
"Hello Mr. Patel. I understand you traced a location by satellite." The voice was polished and perfectly toned. Probably to have one guessing what emotions, if any, were present, the young man guessed.
"Yes sir," The fear left as his pride took a front seat.
"I want you to keep watch on that location. I want to know of any movements." There was a slight pause, "Mr. Patel."
"Yes Sir," his smile widened.
"If fleas leaves a dog while sitting on the front grass of that property, I want to know about it." There was another pause, "Immediately."
Patel's smile left.
"Yes Sir," He said.
"That will be all; you can get back to your coffee now. Although I do fear, it may be cold. Good day." The caller disconnected. Patel's frowned now. He reached for his coffee and took a sip. It was cold.
He looked around the room, his frown deepened.
He dry wiped his face as he looked at the screen. He sat down as he pressed the keys enthusiastically. He would not miss anything.
He would make sure.
A/N: Reviews are like tea to my soul. I need tea right now. (Cough)
Lots of Love, Zacha