Hello everyone!
Sorry for going missing for so long, and leaving you with a cliffhanger, blame the uni and its midterm exams (yeah, already there...) and the real life in general. So there are two chapters at once, kindly beta-ed by Benfan (thaaaaaank you again!) :)
Critics, feedback, advices, are very welcome, as ever!
Enjoy!
Chapter 17. End of the ambush
Not good. Not good.
"Sherlock!"
John was calling him. He stared at the ceiling, analyzing his body signals. His chest hurt, but there were neither sharp pain, nor chills spreading, nor blurry vision, nor lack of oxygen. Actually, it was not so bad.
"I'm alright, John."
"I know you are, idiot." Obviously. "So please, don't pretend being dead. Lestrade doubts you're going to make it." Sherlock brusquely sat up, and incidentally noticed John's relieved expression.
"That'd be too dull!"
Greg looked at Sherlock with worry. But there seemed to be no harm done. He sighed with apparent relief: "Thank God John made you put this vest on…" Sherlock felt like saying something sarcastic but stopped himself since the realization dawned that John's foresight had undeniably saved his life.
Meanwhile, the assault squad showed up. They quickly took the building under control. Donovan entered the room to report. She ended up astonished and somewhat embarrassed by what she saw: Holmes sitting on a heap of old papers with a grimace of pain on his pale face, John taking off his friend's bulletproof vest, and her boss trying to get someone up in the darkest corner of the room. Plus, a dead man was lying down in the way.
"What happened here?!"
"A shooting, Sally." Sherlock grumbled while taking his shirt off a little bit abruptly, and John lectured him right away:
"Stay still!" The Great Detective had an impressive bruise on his chest but not a single scratch. John whistled: "You are incredibly lucky, Sherlock."
Of course he had to contradict: "No, it was pure physics."
Donovan shrugged and went to Lestrade. "Chief, we cleared the house. There were two men unconscious upstairs; we took them into custody."
"Good work, guys." Although the Detective Inspector spoke proudly, he was still anxiously facing the persons lying in front of him. "John, come over here!"
Dr Watson rushed up to them and kneeled down. The woman Scotland Yard still knew as Rita Sorrel was curled up on the floor, hugging the unconscious boy. "Right. I'll try to wake them up."
Seeing she could not be of any help here, Sally withdrew: "I'll call for medics."