Sherlock story
Forgotten Memories, Chapter 49
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.
** Thank you for your latest reviews and PMs since the last post.eohippus AKA guest ;)(Thanks for the multiple post. Glad you liked the flashback), Puky2012 (Thanks for the multiple post. Abdul definitely saved the day), Prothoe (Thanks for the multiple post. Is Mycroft ice or fire?), Taylor501 (Who will win? ;)), Jenna Yemowa (Thanks for the multiple post. I am glad that you are happy about Thomas), henriholmes (Thank you so much.), Esstell (I'll keep going), MapleleafCameo (Thanks, Mycroft verses Moriarty ), Socalrose (Thanks for the multiple post. Where is your knight?), gemstone1234 (Sorry in advance :( ), Voldemort101 (Thanks , I appreciate you). Thank you all.
Thank you ;bruderlein, hanging in there, Kitiara88, hJohn302, gemstone1234 ,briongloid fiodoir, Kassandwich, Flounder65, Voldemort101, BritLitChick , Kitiara88, hollowgirl15, madscientistsuz , gemstone1234, Nietzsches, Flounder65, Warm-Glow ,Lanna- Nailo and Guest, Miriza, Guest #3, Burning Phoenix, Warm Glow, Guest #1, Guest #2 , hanging in there , hJohn302, ShiverandShamy, Lunita28, briongloid fiodoir, leyapearl , hJohn302, Pencilx , Warm-Glow, Jenna Yemowa, , BritLitChick, , Lanna-Nailo, drpaz, Socalrose, dbz27, Prothoe, Lunita28, Guest, Danishprince, ShiverandShamy , Isaldaria, Tammy, Taylor501, bruderlein, April29Roses, ShiverandShamy, christistina, waterbaby, 84, and Peacefreakx3 for your review and PMs. Thank you to all Guests.
Love and crisps
T rated but some future chapters may be M.
A/N: Important. Benedict will at times be referred to as Ben or Benedict since he believes that to be his name.
*Thanks so much for reading. Please do not forget to comment. *
It has been a little over 4 weeks since the explosion.
Thank you for all your responses.
Notes
Love always, Zacha
***What you need to know.
There are two safe-houses
Safe-house number #1is where Patel's friend was killed by Moriarty's soldier scout. The scout was sent to get information about the safe-house. This is unfortunately, where Sherlock is. It is located on the edge of the border to Morocco.
Safe-house number #2 is where Thomas and Patel were and where Sherlock needs to be moved too. However, Moriarty's army seems to block the agents who want to get him across the border into Spain. Spain is where Patel's safe-house is located.
Thomas is leaving safe-house number #2 (Spain) to go to safe-house number #1 (Morocco) where Sherlock is currently.
I hope that was clear.
"Our greatest glory is not in never falling but in rising every time we fall."~ Confucius
Current Day
Earlier
The General sat down as he motioned with his hand to his guest to sit in the chair opposite him. He put his alcoholic drink on the table. He noticed with pride that his guest was looking around his home. General Baroon sat back and crossed his legs. "The house and properties have been in the family for three generations. It is considered the biggest and best in this area." The General boasted.
"I'm sure you must be thrilled." His guest said simply.
The General blinked a few times as he processed what was said to him. He did not know how to respond to the man sitting across from him. His immodest reference to his home did not get the normal and expected response.
General Baroon sat crossed-legged on the chair opposite his guest. He prepared his cigar and after preparing it put it to his mouth. He reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled out an ornate looking pure gold lighter. He made a show of slowly bringing it up to his mouth so that his guest could see the expensive item.
"It's rude to smoke in front of your guest when you didn't even ask permission, don't you think," a voice floated from his side. Baroon frowned. He was not a man that was used to taking orders but giving them. No one dared to challenge him, especially in his own country and in his own home.
He had to bite his lips to keep from responding sarcastically. "Of course," came out with a fake smile. He placed the cigar and the gold lighter on the glass table to the side of their chairs.
The General looked at the man sitting beside him. He could not read his face; it was expressionless except for the eyes. They seem to be like fire torches, burning as they seared inside the soul. The General did not notice that he squirmed in his seat.
There was an uncomfortable silence for a moment. Uncomfortable for The General anyway. His guest spoke finally. "About the problem that we discussed earlier. I would like for you to be there personally to supervise everything. We would not want a repeat mistake like earlier, now, would we? My home blowing up was quite unpleasant." There was another pause. "You do remember my instructions. The airplane will be waiting; I would like a late night flight."
"Sir, that might not be realistic, time-wise." The General waited for a response. No verbal response came.
Instead, he watched as the man sitting across from him got a cigar and after preparing it took HIS gold lighter and lit the cigar. He then blew the smoke in General Baroon's face. Next, He crossed his legs and put the cigar out on the arm of the chair that he was sitting in and then put the extinguished cigar in The General's drink. The antique chair was given to him by his mother.
"Sorry, I forgot that I don't smoke. I would not want to die prematurely, would you?" He then put The General's gold lighter in his pocket. His face was still expressionless but his eyes if possible became even darker. After a pause, "By the way, where is that daughter, oops, I mean wife of yours. You do like them young don't you. She's simply delicious. I could just eat her up."
Again there was a moment of silence. "She is visiting her sister... Indefinitely." Baroon smiled falsely. "I have decided to personally supervise the retrieval of the man, Holmes."
"Benedict," the man sitting across from him said smoothly.
"Um, of course Sir, Benedict." The General said as he tried to appear calm.
Moriarty pulled out his mobile and started to make some phone calls as his men now came closer and waited for orders. General Baroon looked confused as he slowly got up and walked away. Had he really just been dismissed in his own home? The General's steps quickened as he pulled out his mobile and instructed his driver and four soldiers to get the Land Rover ready immediately.
A moment later, as The General awkwardly got into the back seat grimacing slightly from the arthritis in his right knee, he made another phone call.
"Hello dear." He spoke to his wife, "I want you to go and visit your sister."No. Don't come back to the house. Armon and three of my men are on the way to meet you and your driver. You and your sister can go on a shopping spree, everything new." Baroon laughed at his wife's excited squeal. His face became somber. "No don't worry I'm fine. Everything is fine." There was silence as he listened to her speak. "Yes, I love you too. Sorry, I must go."
The general disconnected the call and made another one.
Current Day
Current Time
John disconnected the call from Mycroft. He showed no emotions as he pushed his earphone's button for three seconds to activate it. Everyone thought it wise to give John the earpiece instead of watching him try to hold a mobile to his ear while he drove like a mad man.
Mary was talking to Captain Magoro. She just finished speaking with Thomas and an Agent named Collins. She glanced at John then turned her full attention back to her conversations.
"Benedict I am almost there but I am afraid that so is someone else. Maybe, I should have said some ones." John frowned now.
Current Day
Current Time
Benedict stood with his back to the wall. Anyone who entered would see the empty bed with bed linen half on the floor and a chair turned on its side. There were other signs of a struggle. They cautiously returned his phone, document, and shirt to him along with a pair of blue jean trousers and shoes. He refused the tee-shirt that was offered to him. His dress shirt was stained with blood and dirt but he still buttoned it and tucked it into the blue jeans as neatly as he could out of habit. Its dark color helped to hide some of the stains to all but those who were physically very close and looking for the discolorations. However, no one was close to him.
He refused to sit or lay on the hospital type bed in the corner. His IV and tubing was still on the floor with traces of blood on the tip of the needle. No one dared to enter the room and try to get close to him anymore because they were unsure of what the nutter would do. Everyone sort of slid things his way after he grunted his permission.
Two agents were in the corner of the room. One sported a blackened eye, he looked warily at Holmes. The other agent sported a bruise chin. Benedict glared at them defiantly as he tried not to betray the fact that after the initial excitement and Adrenaline, his body was trying to communicate how painfully sore it was to him. He was offered but refused any medication for pain. He would wait for John. He reluctantly did except bottled water. His thirst and John urging him with a second phone call encouraged him to drink. John called at regular intervals and during the last call, informed him that he would be arriving in fifteen to seventeen minutes.
Benedict, who leaning against one wall with his eyes closed, touched the mobile in his denim trousers pocket reassuringly. He listened to the sounds in the room and attempted to partially rest. He now opened his eyes.
He thought of the latest flashback, dream, false memory , or true memory - whatever they were. He was growing more convinced that they were true memories. Some were pleasant, some very unpleasant. He felt like his entire world was spinning fast and he would fly away at any time. The one true assurance was John. If he did not believe that with his entire being, this would be the moment that he would embrace madness. He was not even sure if he should respond to the name Benedict anymore.
He felt nameless, as if the world had produced a big hole and he somehow slipped through it and found himself in an alternate universe. A world were everyone seemed obsess with him. But, a world were there was nowhere that he belonged.
Benedict felt a slight twinge of pain in his head. He sighed. It was the longest he had gone without a headache in weeks. He was thinking too deeply but knew he could not stop himself so did not try. Despite all this he felt better physically than he had in some time. The flashbacks did not leave him as drained and in pain as it normally did. Probably the drugs, he thought. Still, he did not trust them. Not after what one of them tried to do.
The door opened as a man with a stocky build walked into the room. Benedict's eyes moved up and down, looking at him, deducing him. Sherlock decided that he did not like or trust the man. Sherlock's body stiffened as four more men walked in, in an intimidating manner. Sherlock knew instantly that this man wanted something from him and he was prepared to do anything to get what he wanted.
Benedict grimaced as he stepped away from the wall so that they could not trap him against it. His arms came loosely to his side and away from his body. He prepared to defend himself if needed.
"Hello my name is Santos. You are to follow my instructions without question. You're lucky to have me. I am an agent…" Agent Santos explained his qualifications and accomplishments.
Benedict whispered to himself, "Moron." Benedict also decided that he was not to be trusted. He stopped listening and paid more attention to facial expressions and nonverbal clues. He quickly considered his situation and the man.
Narcissistic.
Above average intelligence but still an idiot.
Santos is in charge of those four men.
The men following him into the room will do as they're told.
The two men in the corner are harmless but annoying.
They will not intervene unless Santos gets out of hand.
There is tension between the two groups. Mr. Idiot is used to being in charge but has been demoted and is not used to taking orders from anyone.
They will use physical force if necessary.
I only have fifteen minutes before I will no longer be able to effectively resist them physically.
"Mr. Hol…Um I mean Benedict, are you listening to anything I have to say?" Santos asked with irritation.
"No, I have not been listening for quite a while now. I rather tuned you out. If you must babble on again, do the courtesy of repeating only the relevant information succinctly. Don't be boring or I might be forced to tune you out again." Sherlock managed the perfect blend of false sweetness with a dash of annoyance.
Santos took a few steps toward him in anger then stopped himself. "You need to come with me Sir for your own safety. I need you to stay calm but…"
"But they are a lot of not so nice people who want me. They are close. Very close judging by the line you've drawn your lips into." Benedict sighed. It had been a very long, very odd, and most unpleasant day.
Everyone in the room was silent as they looked at Holmes oddly.
An agent named Collins came hurriedly into the room. "Why is he not in the safe room yet, we're wasting time!" He said with irritation as he stopped suddenly and looked at everyone's face. The tension in the room was so thick that it could be cut with a knife. He turned his attention to Holmes now.
"I'm Collins and I need you to follow me now - Sir." Collins did not try to intimidate or approach Holmes in any way but instead made a simple, urgent, and to the point request. Collins looked at Holmes and Holmes looked at Collins. Benedict made an instant decision and spoke before Collins had a chance to speak again.
"After you," Holmes said already moving through the door. Everyone walked quickly as they raced from the room. No one stopped moving yet everyone frowned as sudden and unmistakable sounds drew everyone's attention. Their steps quickened.
Current Day
Current Time
Kevin just reported to Agent Thomas, Captain Magoro, and Agent Myers. He also walked quickly up to give a verbal report to Agent Jefferson who was left in charged of the safe-house that Kevin was located in. His fingers flew across the computer screens as his legs pushed his seated body from one computer screen to another. Kevin's mind took over his activities.
Kevin's lips moved into a grim line.
"They're here," He sang in a whisper as he looked grimly at the aerial pictures of the other safe-house. He hoped desperately that Agent Thomas was almost there. Determination came on his face as Kevin's fingers moved faster.
Kevin pushed the button to activate his earpiece as he sent out the warnings.
Current Day
Current Time
General Baroon stiffly got out of the all terrain vehicle. His men were engaging the agents from the safe-house. He looked at his watch. He did not like the situation at all.
He watched from a safe distance dispassionately as two of his men dragged an agent that was trying to defend the perimeter outside the safe-house. They pushed him roughly to his knees and his body twitched violently as bullets were shot in rapid succession into the man's body. Similar scenes were playing out as the severely outnumbered men were slowly being overran.
They already knew where to look for Holmes because of the spy's earlier information. They needed to get in and out quickly. He already had half his men wounded or dead from the disaster at the mansion. They needed to get in and out quickly so that they could get the Holmes-man to Moriarty's waiting airplane so that he could be transported to God only knows where.
The General stood down to no one but the reputation of the man gave Baroon a healthy respect for him. He was getting too old for this kind of life. When this little assignment was concluded, he would consider retiring. Two of his soldiers were shot by an agent before someone shot him in the back. The General watched slightly bored as his best captain gave the order to storm the building. The explosives should blow soon. He walked a safe distance back.
"It's not whether you get knocked down; it's whether you get up." Vince Lombardi
Current Day
Current Time
Holmes' body protested as it was bent low behind a metal table that was turned on its side in the locked room. They hoped to outlast the hostile soldiers until help arrived. Their success depended on the weapons of the other soldiers.
Their breathing became audible and harsh in the room. It was the only sound. The sudden quiet as the gunfire died down outside, did not bring comfort. It had the opposite effect.
Nervous hands squeezed then released the guns. The agents formed a barrier with their bodies around Holmes. Santos thought with dark humor to himself about the fact that he might get to die a hero after all. His heart was in his throat. He saw his life. He wondered if this was how the agents he sent to their death so that he could appear to be the big hero, felt. Poetic justice at its best, he thought.
Santos took a deep breath and waited.
Adrenaline filled everyone's bodies. Benedict put his hands in the prayer position just below his chin as he remained crouched close to the floor. Benedict did not know why but this helped him to calm his body and mind as he waited for whatever was going to happen, to happen.
Breathe in - Breathe out - Breathe in, Breathe in...
Breathe...
The pregnant silence gave birth to chaos.
The door exploded inward with rapidly increasing speed. Orange and white sparks lit the room. Violent flashes of light danced aggressively into the space in the dim room as it casts ghostly figures against the damaged walls.
The explosion of sound ended as abruptly as it started. A white haze of smoke settled in the room, it ascended slowly.
Lights flickered on and off, casting ghostly-lighted figures on the walls. An eerie silence filled the space; its only interruption was the sizzle of the damaged electrical lines that hung down randomly likes snakes in the room, ready to bite any victims who ventured too close.
Holmes opened his eyes and was about to force his stunned body off of the floor as a sudden and overwhelming flash of white light and sound from a flash grenade sent him into the darkness again. The last thing he heard was the sounds of gunfire as the world with its colors and sounds faded slowly away.
He fought against the pull of the dark.
A/N: I will not keep you in suspense long, more midweek. Probably Thursday.
Lots of Love, Zacha