Chapter Nine; Emergency
Maria woke to an unfamiliar room and two unfamiliar faces across from her. She blinked several times, slowly coming back into her mind. She was tied, quite tightly she noted, to a chair by both her ankles and her wrists.
"Who are you?" She asked, the bite coming back into her voice as she stared them down. One was tall, like Sherlock tall but had none of his kindness in his face. The other one was the man she'd seen on the street, much shorter and rounder in both body and face.
"That's for us to know and for you not to know," The short one purred reaching out and stroking her hair. Like a cat she hissed and pulled her head away from his hand. She had a thing against guys touching her hair, Sherlock being the exception of course.
"Kitty-cat's got some bite now does she?" The short one was obviously the boss, but Maria could tell it had been the taller one who had grabbed her.
"Why are you doing this?" She asked.
"Because, I want people to respect my artwork. For too long people have laughed at my paintings and rejected them from galleries. So I knew I had to put it there myself. But then the Yard went and kept my work a secret from the public. Looks like I'm going to have to make this one much more obvious, and guess what sweetheart, after I finish your painting and place you with it, I'm going after that lovely red-headed land-lady of yours."
"Don't you dare lay a finger on Mrs Hudson!" Maria hissed and the short man laughed. "Who's going to stop me, that man of yours? He won't find you until it's too late." He turned to the other man. "Put her in the truck, I just have the finishing touches to put on her painting." He ordered before the tall man easily picked her and the chair up and moving out the door. Maria struggled but it got her nowhere as she was placed inside the unmarked truck. The small man come back not long after, a painting in his hands, covered by a sheet. He hopped into the van, placed it down before jumping out again and shutting the doors on Maria.
Sherlock was in a frenzy. Lestrade told him to come down to the station and once he had arrived he shared the news that they had found fingerprints on the painting and had tracked them down to a warehouse.
"Well what are we waiting for?!" Sherlock had cried and they'd set off for the warehouse, Sherlock taking a cab instead of riding in the cruiser. However, when they arrived, there was no-one there. Sherlock scoured the place from top to bottom, only finding one of Maria's hairs.
"She was here…not long ago…" He said holding the hair up to the light. He should have realised earlier. She practically flaunted her hair in front of him and he didn't pick up on it. That was when his phone started to ring in his pocket. The tone was unfamiliar to him. Rock music? Since when….
'I think we have an emergency, I think we have an emergency! If you thought I'd flee then you were wrong, 'cause I won't stop holding on!'
That was when it clicked and he whipped the phone out of his pocket.
"Maria, where are you?" He asked. There was a pause on the other side of the line.
"I can't….I can't answer that Sherlock…" Maria's voice came through. "He says…says that this is my time to die, that I'll join the angels. Remember when we talked about them? You said you didn't believe, hm, maybe if I become one you'll believe?"
"Stop talking like that." Sherlock snapped. Then his voice softened. "Don't talk like that. I will find you."
There was a noise of the phone being moved before a soft male voice spoke.
"Have fun trying to find her before she freezes to death, Sherlock." The phone went dead. Sherlock lowered his own phone before turning to Lestrade.
"She's in a cathedral." He said turning to Lestrade. "Where's the nearest one?"
"There's a cathedral not too far from here, but how can you tell that?"
"Because she mentioned turning into an angel and people don't turn into angels, it was something she taught me long ago."
Maria was still tied to her chair. They had placed her, for full effect, right at the very front, where the pastor would stand to preach, the painting on a stand behind and above her so people could see her and then the painting. The short man smiled. He thought that this would be perfect. Cathedrals were cold, and she was already freezing from chasing him out into the weather and her lack of suitable clothes. He could see the goosebumps on her skin, and how pale she had already turned. He smiled and moved over to place her hair perfectly, the same way it was in the painting. He lifted her chin up to look at him for a moment. She was losing her energy fast the colder she got. He dropped her chin again, letting her head hang as she shivered violently.
Maria was trapped. She wasn't like Holmes, being able to weasel her way out of any situation. Sure she knew how to think and act like him but, when she came down to it she was nothing like him. She bit her lip softly. She was a fool for charging into this like he would have; her pride had taken over for a moment and now she was going to pay for it with her life.
She didn't want to die. She had survived through Afghanistan for what? To return home only to die from the cold? That was not how she wanted to go. She weakly pulled at the ropes binding her hands but she had to admit, the guy knew how to tie a knot. She sighed softly, feeling defeated as the two men spoke of how they were going to leave without being spotted.
'Sherlock….SHERLOCK!'
