Sherlock Story
Forgotten Memories, Chapter 120
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A disclaimer: Sherlock belongs to BBC along with the talented writers Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss; along with the 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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*****.*** T rated, but some future chapters may be M. ****. ****
" Each board contains two knights… The knight – with its strange and unpredictable jumps – is the trickiest of the chess pieces.…"
… White Knight, Black Knight… Unpredictable Jumps…Part II
"A dream has power to poison sleep." ~Percy Bysshe Shelley, "Mutability"
Current Day
Current Time
Something interrupted his sleep. He opened one heavy eyelid then the other. His dream crumbled into the dust of his subconscious. His eyes closed.
He normally was alert quickly, but today was different. The waking world seemed to flee from him, and he did not pursue.
Again, something pulled at his subconscious mind. He blinked the sleep away, and his rubbery hand fumbled about in the dark. His long fingers closed around the cool, slick object. He pushed the key and spoke with a voice that cracked from fatigue.
"Yes," he did not recognize his own voice. There was no need to say whom he was. Few people knew this number.
He pushed himself up into a sitting position. "Yes, I was sleeping, but it's fine John."
His back came to rest against the wooden bedpost. He wiped his face with his free hand. A frown came on his face as his body struggled to keep up with a mind that was already deducing John's voice.
He suddenly stopped moving. "Tell me everything."
He jumped out of bed and stifled a hiss as his right great toe came forcefully into contact with the bottom of the bed. He grabbed his blue stripe robe and pulled it on as he walked.
"One minute John."
Mycroft took the mobile away from his face, pushed in a code, and then hit the send key. The elder Holmes already naturally moved quietly. He did take more care as he walked past William's room.
Once he was sure that he was a safe distance away from the sleeping child, he instructed John to continue to talk. He quietly stepped out of the villa door. He glanced at the two agents that were assigned outside the villa every night. Mycroft walked a short distance in nothing more than his pajama shirt and trouser and his silk dressing gown. The cold rushed toward his skin. He shivered as he looked at the open door a short distance away.
Thomas cursed quietly as he stood by the front door. Thomas was positioned in the doorway. He was dressed in a tee-shirt and cotton pajama trousers. He quickly put his earphone in as he tested its connection. Five minutes ago, he had jogged to the front door. The alarm on his mobile had awakened him. Several agents in a similar state of dress, walked around and quickly pulled out computer tablets, laptops, and Smartphones. Thomas stayed in the villa next to Mrs. Holmes. The shaft of light from the opened door of Thomas' villa was like a beacon.
Mycroft stepped through the opened door, which closed immediately.
"Sir," Thomas said as he stepped aside. When the door to the outside closed, the world outside was once again plunged, into darkness.
Current Day
Current Time
The mundane Sedan drove down the streets of London. The windows had a slight, dark tint that prevented those who wanted to look within the car from viewing the inside.
He was dressed in his designer dark-gray suit, a crisp white shirt, and a patterned necktie of light and dark gray with splashes of red. His legs were elegantly crossed as his strong fingers pressed rapidly onto the keys of his camera phone.
His passenger had been silent since he entered the vehicle.
"You, and particularly your brother, have cost me quite a bit of trouble and money lately. What do you think that I should do about that?"
There was no response. The only sound was the clicking of a keyboard that had been attached to the computer tablet.
He still did not look at his passenger. He now picked up a computer tablet and connected something to the side of the tablet, as it powered on.
The Consultant Criminal smiled. "We've got to stop meeting like this. People would start to wonder, won't they?"
"Jim." Sherlock was quiet after the initial reply.
His eyes traveled on the two rather large men. They sat opposite him and eyed him warily. Holmes had an unpleasant reputation for causing trouble. With one glance, he knew that they were prepared for trouble from him.
Data flowed to Sherlock almost instantly. He looked at their suit jacket. One, no, two Guns ready to be used. He heard the distinctive click of the car doors when he entered. It had a locking system that assured that if Holmes pulled on the car door handle, it would not open. Conclusion? Buggered.
"I assume that you have something rather unpleasant planned." Sherlock now looked at Moriarty.
Moriarty ignored his question. He smiled. He said nothing for the moment, as he looked Sherlock up and down. "You're rather a mess."
Holmes looked Moriarty in the eyes. He gave him a thin, false smile before saying. "I've had a rather exciting week."
There was a bit of silence before the Consultant Criminal broke into a deep, rich laugh.
"My, you are entertaining, aren't you?" Moriarty looked at the man sitting next to him carefully. He seemed to be analyzing him as if he was a slide under a microscope. Moriarty had a strange look on his face.
Sherlock made sure that his face was blank and expressionless. He refused to look away.
Moriarty looked away now as he picked back up his Smartphone, and pushed keys as he rapidly typed a text.
Sherlock continued to study him and waited.
"They're your weakness." Moriarty said seriously. "Look at all the pain and suffering that you've been through in the last few months. For what? Them? All for them, the normal, the ordinary," Moriarty's face twisted into a snarl as he added, "The boring."
Moriarty's hands never slowed. His voice took on a mocking tone. "Especially that pet of yours. What's his name? He's ruined everything good about you."
Holmes ground his teeth together, but said nothing until he gained control of his anger. "Speaking of pets, I know where your puppet is, but where's your pet?"
Moriarty raised his eyebrows. "Did you miss Seb?"
"Not in the least."
The corners of Moriarty's lips turned up into a small smile, but he said nothing. There was another moment of silence.
"I've done what you've ask. Let her go."
Moriarty did not respond to Sherlock's statement. "Did you enjoy my little... presents?"
"Not particularly."
"Why? I didn't think that you cared." Moriarty finished the text and put the Smartphone back in his suit jacket pocket. "I sent you a picture of Sebastian standing over, our sleeping princess, and I get no thanks. I even framed the picture for you."
Sherlock said nothing else. He just looked.
"Did you not like my choice of picture frame?" Moriarty put on a facial expression as if he was offended. "A different color maybe?"
Again, Sherlock said nothing.
Moriarty was silent for a few minutes before he took out his Smartphone, text for a several seconds, then returned it to his pocket. "She'll be unharmed."
"You don't mind if I check for myself."
Moriarty nodded. "Keep this on you. I do love to hear your voice every now and then." He handed him a new picture phone. There were four different video feeds. Moriarty had apparently hidden four-spy cameras, in four different locations, in her home. One was of her entrance doorway, one her main room, or living room, one of her kitchen, and the last her bedroom. There was no sound, only pictures.
Sherlock watched Molly Hooper as she walked into her flat.
Sherlock pulled out his mobile. He made a quick call.
Molly answered on the second ring. "Molly, this is Sherlock."
"Hi," She sounded slightly out of breath. "You sound odd, is everything alright Sherlock?"
"Yes, everything is fine…" Holmes was interrupted.
"Did you get my text about the last body? You were right." The video feed showed her taking off her coat.
"Yes I got your text, thank you Molly." The video feed showed her frozen with one arm still in her coat.
"Thank you?" She repeated like a parrot, "You sure you're OK?"
Sherlock smiled despite the situation. "I'm fine, promise." His smile vanished. "Can you do something for me, without any questions?"
"Of course Sherlock," The video showed her taking her overcoat completely off now and bending down to scratch her cat's head.
"Remember what I told you to do if there was any…" Sherlock looked at Moriarty. "difficulties." He was glad that Moriarty could only see her, but not hear her.
The video feed showed Molly as she stiffened for a moment then got up. "It'll be done." The lines quickly disconnected.
Sherlock continued to watch the video feed.
Molly got up quickly and moved to her bedroom. She disappeared from view for a moment. Seconds later, she reappeared on a different video feed. Both men looked on as Molly quickly opened the door to her bedroom. It showed Molly as she went to her bedside table, opened it, and then pulled out a new looking mobile phone. There was no sound but they could see her as she punched numbers into that mobile. Sherlock watched the silent video as she put the mobile to her ear. Her lips started to move as she talked. She moved her free arm around, making animated gestures.
The video feed went black.
Sherlock tried not to let the relieve he felt show. He put a slightly bored expression on his face.
"So, how is my good friend Molly." Moriarty turned to Sherlock and whispered as if they had a secret together.
The Consultant Criminal put his hand loosely over his mouth. He pretended to be embarrassed. "I shouldn't be saying this, but, underneath all that hideously patterned, synthetic fabric, there is quite a body." Jim winked at Sherlock.
"Hurting her would be a mistake," Sherlock said simply as he looked at Moriarty.
Moriarty laughed softly then said, "I do believe that was a threat."
Sherlock looked for several seconds more. He then looked ahead. He suddenly realized where they were going. His heart sank.
Sherlock hoped that John would not be too irritated.
Both men were silent for the rest of the car ride.
Current Day
Current Time
Mycroft's agent-in-charge looked on as Agent Robert Towson was lifted from the ambulance and wheeled into the hospital. They walked past the Accident and Emergency department and kept going. Agent Pearson pursed his lips together and glanced at the injured man. He was a good man. Several agents walked beside, and to the side of the trolley. He looked at the sea of humanity that floated in, and out, of his field of vision. Four men around him walked carefully. Their eyes also scanned the people who were in the immediate area. Several medical workers walked beside the trolley, as well.
Everyone turned the corner, and changed direction as they headed for a more private location. The medical staff was at a loss, as far as what needed to be done for the injured agent.
The sound of hands colliding with double doors was loud in the ears of those present. The agents stepped back to the perimeter of the room to allow the medical workers room to move. The medical workers lifted Agent Towson as quickly, yet carefully as possible. After the agent was transferred, a flurry of activities took place. His clothes were entirely cut away. Machine tube and medical devices were moved around the room.
A physician looked at the report and puckered his eyebrows. A gasp brought his attention to a nurse. The medical worker stood frozen. She had the last piece of his removed clothing in her hand. He glanced frowning at the generally professional woman. His attention turned back to the room. The doctor looked at the patient and swallowed. He now looked at the reports. Someone had made a point of redressing the injured agent in the warehouse. Only a small part of his chest was exposed when they brought him into the A/E earlier. Now, however, the full extent of what was done to him was revealed.
The agent in charge now looked at his colleague and frowned. He walked closer.
"Put oxygen on him. Apart from that, touch nothing. Call Doctor Cutler," The physician in the room said grimly.
"But he is sleeping," the medical worker reminded the doctor.
"Then, wake him up." The doctor hissed.
Agent Pearson exited the room quickly. He walked briskly as he pulled out his mobile.