Sherlock Story

Forgotten Memories, Chapter 94

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.

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…. Stalemate? …

One possible Stalemate tactic of chess ~

… Sometimes you will find yourself in a bad situation but your king has no moves. In this type of position your best idea would probably be to suicide your remaining pieces…

"I ask you to judge me by the enemies I have made." ~Franklin D. Roosevelt

The man could not hold in the groan any longer as he slid back down the wall when he was suddenly released by Moriarty's guards. His rubbery legs were unable to bear his weight. Moriarty sat in his chair as he observed the afternoon's activities. He looked emotionlessly at the man, as he was tortured.

More of Moriarty's 'boys' appeared quite suddenly and pulled the agent, non-too gently, back to his feet. With a swift kick to the back of his legs he was soon kneeling, his arms wrenched behind his back. He bit his lips to keep from crying out. It would not work much longer. Several grunts of pain despite his best efforts, escaped.

The sound of air being expelled from the agent's lungs, as he fought for air, reverberated in the space. Pain radiated from his abdomen outward as each strike seemed more violent than the rest. The agent ground his teeth together, as he fought for both air and to maintain consciousness. He blinked away the blood and grit from his eyes. He tried to focus on a point in his mind to decrease the pain as his training taught him.

"Enough," Moriarty said quietly. The main guard that was beating the agent stepped back. Blood spatter was on the man's suit and the main torturer heaved heavily as he rested from the energy that was exerted to beat the bloodied man.

Moriarty walked up to the kneeling agent. He touched one finger and raised the head of the exhausted man. "Ready to talk yet," Moriarty said almost conversationally.

The agent said nothing.

"Come now. You're about to hurt my feelings. I ask you some simple questions. I know that Mycroft Holmes is hiding something. No man could be that clean. What were you doing in Dubai? That's a long way from England. What business does Mycroft Holmes have there?"

The agent said nothing. Moriarty looked at the bloodied and still body of the other agent on the floor close to the far wall. He had been the example. He then looked back at the kneeling agent hoping to make a wordless point.

The agent stared back in what he hoped was a defiant way. In reality, his face looked like he had a grimace on it.

Moriarty violently and suddenly struck the agent on the side of his face making his head spin. The ring on Moriarty's finger opened up a new laceration on his face. It somehow found one of the few places that was not bruised or cut. A new trail of blood slowly found its own path down his face. He spit saliva mixed with blood on the floor.

One of Moriarty's men briskly walked down the stairs and over to Moriarty. He handed a syringe with an injection to the guard next to Moriarty.

"Well, let's try something new." Moriarty nodded and two guards firmly held one shoulder each to keep the struggling agent on his knees.

"This drug will help you be, shall we say, more cooperative with the truth." One guard had torn the agent's already bloody and tattered shirt open to the top of his arm.

"I know what you're thinking," Moriarty said as he straightened his body upright. "You're probably trained to withstand drugs but I assure you, not this one."

"You're going to tell me everything I want to know without realizing what you're doing. I know what you're thinking. Your boss is disgustingly loyal and I am sure that they will try to find you, but by the time they do, you will either be dead, or I might be kind and leave you alive…ish. Still doesn't matter. I'll know everything I want."

"Or..." Moriarty's eyes were deadly.

"I could keep you alive for them to find. You agree to work for me. You become my plant. This arrangement would evolve a great deal of money. You tell me what I want to know. You'll save me a great deal of time and you a great deal of torture. They'll never know where the information came from." Moriarty tried to keep a straight face and not giggle. "You have my word."

"What is your decision?" Moriarty asked with a repressed smile on his face.

The agent clinched his jaw at an odd angle. Moriarty frowned suddenly as the agent's body started to sag, his eyes rolled at the same time that white foam dripped out of his mouth. The agent dropped dead on the floor.

Moriarty raised an eyebrow as his men backed up and waited for further orders. They were not sure how Moriarty would react. Each man discreetly tried to position himself so that they were not the closes one physically to Moriarty.

Moriarty sat down and wiped his hand on the hand towel handed to him as he took a sip of tea calmly. Everyone waited for the explosion from their boss.

"Interesting, it was not suicide. If it were, he would have used the poisonous capsule long ago. No, the agent considered this the same as a soldier who falls on top of a grenade to save his fellow soldiers." Moriarty paused to take another sip of tea and smiled. "Got ya."

Moriarty took out his mobile and placed a call. He was hungry. Time for lunch. The call was answered in one ring. "What secrets are in Dubai that is worth dying to protect? Find me the answer."

Moriarty got up, buttoned his suit and walked toward the stairs.

"Um, Sir, what do we do with the bodies?" One of the guards asked with hesitation.

"Dump the bodies somewhere that they can be found. Mr. Holmes has this thing about burying his men," Moriarty said while waving his hands in the air dramatically. "Of course…," he said as he started up the stairs. "…It would only be polite to leave a note."

Moriarty's legs then feet gradually disappeared from view as he walked up the stair slowly then disappeared completely.

Several breaths were heard being exhaled in relief from several places in the basement level.