Silence In Belgravia
Silent Eyes
"No! Stop!" Sherlock shouted, the American's hand flying up to call off the shot.
Rose's head dropped a little as her neck released the tension she didn't realise had built up, her heart beat pounding in her ears, as though it were celebrating it's continued existence. John just breathed a sigh of relief that Sherlock had stopped them.
Sherlock turned around, hands still by his head, brain thinking as fast as he could make it. Taking a big risk, he brought his hand up and he typed in what he thought was his best chance.
32...24...34...
A quiet click could be heard through the silent room and the three hostages as well as Sherlock let go of a breath they had all been holding.
"Thank you, Mr Holmes." Said the American, sounding rather pleased. "Open it, please."
Sherlock turned the little handle, a louder click filling the room as he did. Taking a side long glance at the owner of the safe, Sherlock saw her look away. She almost seemed regretful.
Then it hit him.
"Vatican Cameos." He said, loud enough for them all to hear.
Though the Americans were all confused, Rose and John immediately remembered the case where they had to do extensive research on world war two. They had found that Englishmen would use the phrase "Vatican Cameos" to warn others on the same side of an armed person.
Rose remembered this specific bit of information because Sherlock had lectured her on it and made sure she knew what he was on about, should he ever say it.
John remembered because he was there and found the whole thing highly amusing.
Irene Adler however had no idea what the phrase meant, but of course knew what was inside her own safe.
As Sherlock opened the safe, saying the vital phrase, he ducked, letting the rigged gun shoot the man holding Rose at gun point. Having spun around, Sherlock grabbed the main man's gun, smacking him in the face with the butt of it moments later.
Rose - thanks to Sherlock's gun training - didn't even flinch when the gun went of or when the man behind her fell to the floor. Instead she copied Sherlock's move, standing up and spinning at the same time to punch John's gunman in the neck - she had learnt it caused the victim a lot more pain and confusion and wasn't so tough on her own fists. As predicted the man fel to the floor instantly, hitting his head on a small table as he went.
Looking up, she saw Irene elbow her own gunman where it really hurts before standing up to take his gun off him, elbowing him again in between the shoulder blades, sending the man to his knees, dazed.
"Do you mind?" Asked Sherlock, though Rose was a little confused.
However Irene answered. "Not at all." Before hitting the same man in the face with the butt of the gun, knocking him out completely. Rose saw Sherlock's intentions though as he quickly grabbed something from the safe, slipping it into a pocket before turning around again. She threw him a suspicious look which he ignored as John stood up as well.
"He's dead." The doctor told them, indicating to the man who had been shot.
"Thank you." Irene said, looking at Sherlock. "You were very… observant."
"Observant?" John asked, distracted from the dead man.
"I'm flattered." She carried on.
"Don't be." The consulting detective replied.
"Flattered?" John asked, looking to Rose. She just shrugged though, not knowing what the other two were on about.
Sherlock had other ideas though. "they'll be more of them. They'll be keeping an eye on the building."
John gave up on understanding and moved on. "We should call the police."
"Yes." Agreed Sherlock, turning to his assistant. "Rose?"
She sighed, knowing what he wanted. "On it."
Bending down, she picked up the gun of the dead man and ran out of the room. John was confused once again and so followed her out of the front door. "What are you doing?"
She raised her arm, gun pointing skyward and shot several shots into the air until the screeching of a car could be heard down the street.
She turned to John, grinning once more. "On their way." She told him, walking briskly back to where the other two were, John following once again.
"For gods sake…" John muttered, looking up and down the street, wondering if they had been seen.
"Oh, shut up." She said to him. "It's quick!"
Walking back to the living room they found Sherlock waiting for them, Irene looking a little panicky.
"Check the rest of the house, see how they got in." Sherlock told them. John nodded and left the room again.
"One minute." Rose replied as she went over to the other unconscious men and picked up all the guns lying about ; it wouldn't do them any good if the Americans should suddenly come to and have all their guns. As she did, she heard Sherlock talking again.
"Well, that's the knighthood in the bag." He said, flipping something in his hand.
"Well…" Irene started, seeing a little lost for words. "And that's mine."
Rose looked up then to see Sherlock holding a phone that wasn't his own. The phone has all the information on it, she realised.
The phone made a few beeps as Sherlock turned his attention to it. "Alll the photographs are on here, I presume."
"I have copies, of course." She replied.
"No you don't." Sherlock said, calling her out on a lie. "you'll have permanently disabled and uplink or connection. Unless the contents of this phone are proven to be unique, you wouldn't be able to sell them."
"Who said I'm selling?" she retorted.
He indicated to all the unconscious men around the room. "Well, why would they be interested? Whatever's on the phone, it's clearly not just photographs."
"That camera phone is my life, Mr Holmes." She told him and Rose - still watching - could hear the seriousness in her voice. "I'd die before I'd let you take it. it's my protection."
Sherlock brought the phone out of her reach again. "It was."
Rose picked up the last gun and stood up again, turning to the other woman. "Come on."
Following Sherlock up to one of the bedrooms, she found John bent over the woman who had let them in in the first place. "They must have come in this way." He told Sherlock.
"Clearly." was the predictable reply.
"Is she alright?" Rose asked John, nodding to the woman on the floor.
"It's alright, she's just out cold." John assured the two women.
Irene didn't seem to bothered though. "Well, god knows she's used to that." John looked to her then, wondering why they woman should be used to being unconscious. Irene carried onto though, walking past John to a dresser.. "There's a back door. Better check it, Dr Watson."
John just looked to Sherlock, who nodded. "Sure." John replied, making his way to find the back door.
Sherlock just took out the phone again, thinking about the lock on it while Rose went to check the bathroom to see if there was anything to find there.
"You're very calm." She heard Sherlock say. There was a pause before the tone of obviousness. "Well your booby trap did just kill a man."
"He would have killed me." Was the reply he got from Miss Adler. "It was self defence in advance."
Suddenly something seemed wrong and a slap could be heard from the next room. Dropping bottle of diet pills she had found, Rose ran to the other room, just in time to see Irene standing over a crumpled Sherlock, hand held out to him. "Give it to me, now. Give it to me."
"No." Was his slurred reply, stumbling to find his feet again.
"Give it to me!" She ordered him.
"Hey!" Rose shouted, coming out of her shocked state enough to do something. Running forward, she stood between Sherlock and the woman. When she saw Sherlock stumble again though, she turned her back to Irene, going to make sure her friend was alright. Turning back to Miss Adler, Rose demanded. "What did you do to him?"
"Oh for gods sake." Irene said, ignoring the question and turning to the desk, grabbing a ridding crop. "Give it to me."
"Tell me!" Rose shouted back.
Irene seemed to loose her temper now and swung for Rose repeatedly with the ridding crop, catching her on her arms that she had brought up to defend herself with. However, unlike Sherlock - who had no become to incapacitated to move much - Rose had complete control of herself and so she stood, Irene still swinging for her.
Moving forward, on Irene's next swing, Rose caught the riding crop in her palm and held on to it, pulling it from the woman's grip. Throwing her head forward, she head butted the woman square in the forhead, sending her to the floor; her friends always said she had a hard head.
Now the tables were turned, Rose stood over Irene with the riding crop raised. "What did you give him?"
In that moment, John walked in to see Irene on the floor, Rose threatening her with a riding crop and Sherlock hidden behind the bed. "What the hell's going on?" He asked, voice loud enough to fill the whole room.
But as Rose turned her head in surprise, Irene kicked her off her feet, the riding crop falling form her hands as her head smacked the hard wooden floor sending her vision into a world of small black dots before all she could see was black.
John - who didn't know what had happened - just watched as Irene grabbed the phone that lay inches away from Sherlock's limp but shaking form and ran to the bathroom, shouting back a "Thank you dear!" as she went.
John ran over to Sherlock, trying to find out what was wrong with him. "What have you done?"
"He'll sleep for a few hours." She replied a little breathless. "Make sure he doesn't chock on his own vomit. It makes for a very unattractive corpse."
John saw the needle then. "What's his? What have you given him?"
On the other side of the room, Rose was coming too again. "Sherlock…?"
"He'll be fine. I've used it on loads of my friends." Irene assured them.
Rose woke to John's worried voice and sat up, clutching her aching head. Suddenly remembering what was happening, she forced herself to stand up and stumbled over to where Sherlock lay shaking violently, John leaning over him. Looking up she saw Irene at the bathroom window. The woman had paused, watching the three of them.
"You know, I was wrong about him; he did know where to look." She said absently.
Rose was too annoyed and in a little too much pain to deal with riddles at that moment though and snapped back, "What are you on about?"
"The key code to my safe." Irene answered casually.
"What was it?" John asked as Rose frowned heavily in thought and pain.
"Tell that sweet little posh thing the photos are safe with me. To for blackmail, just for insurance." Irene answered.
Rose was sick of not knowing though and snapped at the woman. "What was the code?!"
Irene just smirked and grabbed a rope from what seemed like no where. "My measurements." With that, she jumped backwards out of the open window, leaving the three of them alone in a rather large house, police on the way, several unconscious Americans downstairs, one of them dead and a convulsing Sherlock laying between an aching Rose and a highly confused John.