I sit in a cold sterile room, the walls are grey cement, the tables chrome, it is an emergency hide out shelter, disused until today. Sniffing the air, I feel as if I can smell wet cement, cold, hard unyielding. Mycroft comes in with my tea, and the scent of boiling water and tea bag assails my nostrils. I grimace. "It's not Twinings Earl Grey, it's Twinings Lady Grey Tea."
"And your point is, Brother mine?"
"If I'm going to die, I want Earl Grey."
"Just drink the damn tea."
I sigh. "Fine." Then I study the image of the puzzle again, letting its multi-colored design propel me into another dimension—my mind palace. I reach for the tea, not noticing when it burns my lips. The sting dissipates, leaving first a numbness, then a tingling sensation. I ignore it, allowing all sensations to divert to my brain, letting each synapse fire in rapid succession. Colors reflect back at me, purple, blue, yellow, green and an amalgamation of all shades of the visible spectrum—white. Oh, for a 7% solution to clarify my thinking processes. Would Mycroft get me some? No, probably not, but at least a cigarette, surely. "Mycroft, are you there?" I call out to the empty room.
A short time later and he appears. "Yes, what is it?"
"I need something to clarify my thinking. Get me some."
He shakes his head. "Absolutely, not."
"Get me a cigarette then and no low tar."
He sighs, then turns to leave. I stop him. "Mycroft, I need my phone. I need to know if they're okay."
"I doubt you'll get reception down here."
"Then get me a land line. Get me a goddamn carrier pigeon if you must, just let me know if they're okay. I can't concentrate."
His eyes narrow. "See, I told you that caring is not an advantage and besides carrier pigeons are extinct."
I round on him. "Don't cock this up, Mycroft, get me what I need, or you can kiss your ass and everyone else's good-bye."
He looks at me says nothing, then leaves. A few moments later, he comes back with a rotary phone, a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He plugs the phone into an outlet along the wall, then steps back. "Now, get to work."
"Rotary?" I ask.
"Of course, we both know that anything digital can be compromised."
I light a cigarette. "Well, I guess sometimes old things are the best." I then look him up and down. "Well, some things at any rate."
He grinds his teeth. I can hear it about the buzz of the fluorescent lights. "Make your call and get to work, Brother mine. London, and perhaps all of the world needs you."
I close my eyes referencing my mind palace for Mrs. Hudson's land line number. My hands shake when I dial the number. It rings, and rings and rings, causing my heart rate to spike. Between the fear, caffeine and the nicotine, I am sure to have a heart attack. Nothing, then I hear Mrs. Hudson's voice.
"Hello?"
"Mrs. Hudson, it's me. Is everyone okay?"
"Oh, Sherlock, what's happening?"
"I don't have time to explain. Are John, Anderson and the baby okay?"
"Yes, I let you talk to him."
I wait, my pulse pounding, waiting to hear your voice.
"Sherlock?"
"John, are you okay?"
"Yes, where are you?"
"I can't say. Are you down in the shelter?"
"Yes, how come you never told me about this place? It's huge and has enough supplies to last for months, perhaps years. You and Mrs. Hudson are full of surprises. When are you coming home?"
I pause, listening to your breath, you are breathing from your mouth. I love the sound of it, the way it sucks in with a slight whistle, then exhales in a short puff. "John, I'm not coming home. I have work to do."
"No, that's unacceptable. Tell me where you are and I'll find you."
I hear a low rumble, then a few moments later a slight vibration shakes the room. "John, are you okay?"
"Yes, but what the hell was that?"
I can hear Alice crying in the background. "John, you have a child and I need you to keep Anderson and Mrs. Hudson safe."
You muffle the receiver, then come back on. "Sherlock…I…can't lose you."
"John, you are a soldier and I know you can do this. Keep Anderson, Alice and Mrs. Hudson safe and I will find you. Now put Anderson on and John I love you."
I hear a slight tremor in your voice when you answer me. "I love you too."
There is a slight pause, then I hear Anderson. "Anderson, how are things?"
"We're all fine, Sherlock, just concentrate on the task at hand."
"Anderson, I need you to keep John, Alice and Mrs. Hudson safe, don't let John try to be a hero and Anderson I love you and I'm so sorry for all my harsh words and…"
"Sherlock, you'll be embarrassed later, stop, it's okay and I love you too."
I feel tears welling up in my eyes. "Please put Mrs. Hudson on."
Another pause. "Sherlock, oh Sherlock…"
"Mrs. Hudson, promise me you'll keep them safe. Promise me."
"I promise, Sherlock, I will. Come back to us. I love you."
"I love you too, Mrs. Hudson, be safe." Then I hang up and take the cigarette, placing it between my lips, I inhale, enjoying the mouth hit. I close my eyes, the world fades around me, the only thing I see is the puzzle, its colors swirl around, mocking me. You will not beat me. Where is the cipher? Is it a mathematical formula hidden within its depths? Does each squiggle have a meaning? Does each color have a number? Is it the pieces of the puzzle itself? My mind attacks each possibility, despairing when I prove each theory wrong.I lean forward, becoming lost within its depths.
"Sherlock? Sherlock?" a voice calls.
I open my eyes, giving Mycroft a malevolent stare. "What is it? How to do you expect me to get anything done with you constantly hovering over me?"
"You've been in here for hours. I brought you some chips."
I look up at him. "I need help. I need some, you can supervise."
"Sherlock, …"
"You've put me in danger before and it hasn't bothered you. Now give me your phone so I can type out a list. Give it to me."
He hands over his phone, I pull up the notes section, and type up a list, then hand it back to him. He takes it, covers his face with one hand, then looks back at me. "I'll get you what you need because we are in crisis, but you are wrong about one thing."
"I'm seldom wrong. What are you talking about?"
"It's bothered me every time I've had to put you in danger, Sherlock."
I look up at him, then away. "Just get me what I need."
