Sherlock Story

Forgotten Memories, Chapter 141

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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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Note: Knackered means tired. 2. Gobsmacked is shocked.

*****.*** T rated ****. ****

Here are a few chapters. More up by Friday. You can save those for the weekend or read all at once. Lots of Love.

"… Always think twice before the pawn move, pawns do not go back."

… The Fall… Part I…

"An enemy generally says and believes what he wishes."
~ Thomas Jefferson

Current Day

Current Time

He walked around the corner as his eyes discreetly scanned the area. He put the mobile to his cheek as he leaned his head toward the black cool object.

"Holmes." He knew who it was, but he did not want the increasingly annoying man to know that he was expecting his call.

"I need to see you." Robert Anderson's voice was irritated and clipped.

"How marvelous," Sherlock did not try to keep the insincerity out of his voice. He scanned the area again. He noticed an officer walking some distance down the long corridor. He suddenly turned left and swung the heavy metal door open as he entered the stairwell. He stood as he allowed the door to close. He leaned back against it.

Anderson spoke with the air of certainty when he gave the order. "Fifteen minutes. You know where." Anderson's voice was low. He was slightly breathy as if he was moving.

"Sorry, previous engagement. Anything you have to say to me can be said by mobile phone, like we have been doing for the last two weeks." Sherlock forced his body off the door. He started to descend the stairs as he walked toward the exit.

There was silence for a few long seconds. A sound of a door closing was heard. The volume of Anderson's voice suddenly increased. "Now, wait a minute, I'm in charge here. I tell you what to do and you listen!"

Sherlock swiftly walked down the stairs as he worked his way to the lower level. "Is there a reason for your call?"

There was a pause, as if Anderson suddenly remembered what he wanted. "There will be a press conference in a few hours. Be there," he ordered before continuing the normal threats and rants.

There was a moment of silence.

Sherlock reached the level that led to the street. He entered the main waiting area. He walked briskly as he exited the building. Only part of him was paying attention. He had blocked out the annoying man's voice as he normally did when Anderson went into a tirade.

A part of Sherlock's brain told him that it was time to pay attention.

"… you know what I can do to you, and to Lestrade if you don't do as I say." Anderson's voice held a dangerous edge.

Sherlock grit his teeth together in anger. "I will be there. This is between you and me, leave Lestrade out of this."

"Well, that's more like it…" Anderson's voice stopped mid-sentence, when Sherlock disconnected the mobile call.

Sherlock gripped the mobile in his hand as he looked around. He stood still for a moment, fuming. If he had to take one more threat from the man, he would not be responsible.

He breathed in the outside air and calmed himself. He ignored the light rain that started to fall. It was almost soothing.

Sherlock was not surprised when the familiar black sedan pulled up to him. He did not ignore it as he had done in the past. It was expected. He easily slid into the back seat and shut the door.

The sedan disappeared into the heavy London traffic.

Current Day

Current Time

Sebastian Moran looked at Holmes from across the street. The tinted windows of the motorcar provided the anonymity that he needed.

Everything was going according to plan.

"Four days," he whispered to himself.

He had a four-day plan to completely destroy Holmes body, soul, and mind. Not even his friends would be able to put him back together. Anderson would take the credit. The fool would think it was his idea. If something went wrong, Anderson would be blamed.

Anderson had proven to be more devious, and evil than even Riley. The Scotland Yarder was in the wrong line of work. He wore evil well, like one would wear an old suit.

Holmes had exited the Scotland Yard building minutes ago but remained in front of the building. He watched Holmes as he paced one way, and then the other, while he clutched his mobile. He seemed not to notice or care that it started to rain.

Moran laughed as he watched the Consultant Detective. "You seem a bit stressed."

Sebastian watched a black, government issued motorcar pulled up. He stood still for only a second before getting into the back seat.

He watched the motorcar hurry away.

"Drive," Moran ordered distractedly. The motorcar pulled into the traffic. He thought about his next move. He needed to make two calls. One was to Kitty to make sure that Anderson was being controlled. The other was more urgent.

He pulled out his mobile and rang a local drug dealer. He did not bother to say Hello. "Is everything ready?"

"When you deal with your brother, be pleasant, but get a witness."
~Hesiod

Current Day

Current Time

Mycroft looked at Sherlock. He had his head laid back and his eyes closed.

"Mycroft, how close are you?"

Mycroft raised one eyebrow. "Well, good day to you as well."

"We never say good day, what do you not want to say?"

Mycroft sighed. "I will need two more weeks. Less if you do not tie my hands. Any quicker movement would bring suspicion."

"I've identified two of Moriarty's spies. However, it goes deeper than we first thought. There might be as many as three or four more. That is not counting the one that you suspect. In several countries, covert government officials are trying to identify Moriarty's spies as well. They need to all be arrested at the same time. I do not need to tell you, that we cannot afford to give Moriarty time to adjust, or recover." There was a hesitation. "Robert Anderson, if he has the help of Moriarty's men, might well be able to do what he has threatened to do."

"I see." Sherlock became quiet and thoughtful.

Mycroft's voice was low and clipped. "Dangerous game you're playing dear brother. It seems that Doctor Robert Anderson is growing bolder by the day. He might be Moran's puppet, but a dangerous puppet, he remains." Mycroft's voice held a warning. "You must understand that I cannot stay out of this matter much longer."

Sherlock looked at Mycroft, while he rested his head back against the cool leather. The tension in his neck was still there. "Mycroft, we both know that something bigger at stake than whether or not Anderson is being annoying. There are more important things at stake than myself. If we alert Moriarty, to the fact that we know who his spies are, we lose our advantage. There are more important things at play; it has to remain a fight between two men."

Mycroft hand came out. His long, manicured fingers pressed the imaginary creases from his suit vest. He chose his words carefully. "If it was a fight between you, and the simpleton, Anderson, it would not concern me. He is no match for you. It is not. Moran has an army of people he has directed to destroy you. Moriarty thinks of you as his personal plaything. This is not a fair fight Sherlock, none of these people fight fair, least of all Anderson."

Mycroft became quiet.

Sherlock pursed his lips, and shifted to look out the window. Even though his face was turned, he could almost see the sour expression on his brother's face.

"I need two more weeks Mycroft. I don't want Lestrade being caught in the middle of this mess. There is also a possibility that he might be physically harmed. I cannot risk it."

"But you can risk yourself?"

There was a moment of tense silence. "If I don't get the information that we need," it was Sherlock's turn to pause, "we will do things your way."

Mycroft voice was stern when he spoke. "You have four days. I will withdraw my men as you requested, but they will stay within fifteen minutes of you at all times."

"I need at least a week…"

"Four. Days. Fifteen. Minutes. Away." Mycroft said no more but waited for an answer.

Sherlock sighed resigned. "Four days starting tomorrow."

Mycroft gave a slight nod. There was a brief moment of silence.

"John came to me today. He is determined to have answers. You know how he can be." Mycroft paused for a second. "Tell John, and Lestrade; at the very least, John"

Sherlock did not answer directly.

"I'll think about it." Sherlock glanced at his mobile and laid his head back on the car seat. He picked up his mobile thinking.

Mycroft locked eyes with his little brother. "What you're about to do, are you certain? He could hurt you."

Sherlock did not answer but instead looked into his brother's eyes.

"I see," Mycroft said evenly.

They were both quiet. Both were lost in their private thoughts as they were driven back to Scotland Yard.