It takes exactly 334 steps to reach the top of the clock tower of Big Ben. The old stairs wind around in square shaped loops, caged in wooden bannisters…up and up and up.
Footstep by footstep Greg Lestrade could feel his energy draining from him, he could hear his heart beating in his ears, the sweat dancing on his forehead. He was on step 134 now…or was it 135, he couldn't tell, he'd lost count once he hit a hundred and the world began to spin. Sally was several steps ahead of him, her youth and fitness greatly surpassing his own. Lestrade could hear her steady panting and the tap of her boots on the stairwell, mimicking the murmured tick of the clock above.
"You alright Greg?" Sally called back; she had done so several times, checking up on her superior. Her voice was calm, even through her rapid breaths.
"Yeah" He managed to say "I'm ok, keep going"
"I wasn't offering respite. Just checking that you were still alive!" She said, he could hear the smile behind her voice.
"Just keep going" Lestrade said, egging his unsteady legs onwards.
"I think we're around the 200th step now." Sally said after another five minutes of brisk climbing. She then made a slight laugh through her strong breaths "One to tell the kids anyway."
"Yeah." Lestrade said, pulling up his sleeve to check his wristwatch. His anxiety growing with every unsteady step, worry leaking through every thought, time running out with every breath. It was now 11:50.
"We have ten minutes left" Lestrade said "Five minutes to grab Molly and get out of here" His breathing was unsteady, his chest aching with every word.
"What about the bomb?" Sally said, holding still for a moment so she could be side to side with Lestrade. "This is a national landmark Greg, we need to…try...we need to" She spluttered, wracking her brain for some kind of miracle solution.
"There's no time Sally" Lestrade said, firmly.
"But it's a historical building…" She began.
"It is just a building Sally. We can't put human lives on the line for it, no matter how historical it is" Lestrade puffed, looking up he could see they were on the final few loops. Sally was silent for a moment, panting heavily.
"You're right" She finally muttered. "320…fourteen steps left"
"Molly!?" Greg shouted, tilting his head to the floor above. "Molly you up there?" The loud, sunken ticks of the clock face greeted them as they reached a large black metal door. Sally began to bang on it, though her hands were shaking vigorously from exhaustion. The knocks echoed, lingering around them.
"Molly!" Lestrade said, still catching his breath. "Molly, are you here?"
"I'm here" A voice came from within. Lestrade and Sally sighed with heavy relief.
"Are you alright?" Greg called. "Can you see the bomb?"
"Yes I can see it" Molly responded, her voice trembling.
"Okay…get out of the way Molly, We're coming in!"
Ten Minutes earlier.
"Ok Molly. You can do this." Molly muttered as she prepared herself for immense pain, her hands were now a quarter way loose from her tight bonds and she knew, with maybe two or three more painful pulls her hands may become free. "Three, two…one" She said as she began twisting and pulling her hands out of the constraints. She could hardly contain her agonized yells as she felt her skin tear and blood drip from her wrists. But she kept going, pushing herself to get free, begging her mind to concentrate.
"Focus Molly" A voice seemed to dance through her pain, his voice. Sherlock's voice. It was calm and soft, careful, echoing around her head. "Focus".
She kept going, even through the pain, Sherlock's voice was like a beacon guiding her. "Sherlock" Molly said to herself…in a kind of whisper.
Suddenly, Molly could feel she was close; she was about to be free. With one final tug, she freed both her hands and slumped onto the metal floor with a sharp thud. She closed her eyes tightly as a searing pain rushed through her body, waking the memory of the agony of Sebastian Moran's cruel punches. She couldn't bare to look at her wrists, so with her eyes glued tight she pulled off her gag, and took in a mouthful of air, relaxing her jaw. She then lay still, she wasn't sure for how long, her whole body was aching, her mind exhausted. She could hear her heartbeat. She could hear it ticking in time with Big Ben…she could hear it ticking in time with the bomb.
With that thought, Molly found the strength to open her eyes. Her two wrists were the first things to fill her weary vision, she gasped, shocked at the extent of the injury…of the blood. Her hands were numb and pale white from lack of circulation; her wrists were covered with blood where her skin was ripped. Around the rope wounds her skin that was free of blood was a ghastly dark purple colour, shining in stark contrast to her pale white fingers. Molly made a noise of pitiful despair, unable to move her eyes off her wounds. She could taste salty tears, she hadn't even noticed she started crying. Her whole face felt numb from cold and pain. She could feel herself lingering on the edge of cascade, a pit of despair. Her pain was so unbearable she could feel her mind slowly turning out its lights…she hear her heart ticking slightly slower.
"I have to be brave" A voice came from within…though this time it was not Sherlock's. "I have to rise above this pain" It was her own voice, calm and soft.
Molly raised her eyes, pulling herself out of her agony; there was more work for her to do. Her eyes latched onto the bomb, its ticking mocking her, taunting her. She pulled herself forward, dragging her limp body towards it. The time read 5 minutes. It's numbers receding with every dreaded tick. 4:59…4:58…
Molly had never dismantled a bomb before; but I guess that's to be expected from any normal person. She had only seen it done in the movies and a documentary she watched as a child with her father and Ben. Molly remembered her father was always interested in war documentaries because his own father had fought in France in the 1940's. Molly remembered her father would always flick from channel to channel searching for war documentaries, they must have watched hundreds when he was alive. However, Molly remembered that particular documentary well, she recalled the precision of the Ammunition Technicians, the men who were responsible for dismantling the bombs, she remembered their steady hands and their sharp eyes. She especially remembered their unfaltering courage…their willingness to be the ones who walk towards live bombs and not turn their backs and run. Molly remembered one soldier stating that he could feel a battle within him; he could feel fight and flight standing head to head. The soldier said that every day he had to make a decision about whose side he would take. He always chose to fight, always.
Molly took a deep breath and reached forward, pulling off the top of the bomb, the timer, its numbers now hitting 3:43. She placed the it down, carefully beside her taking another deep breath as she moved in to examine the bowels of the deadly machine. Molly took a sharp intake of breath as she stared down at the many looped wires, their colours varying from red, to blue, to green, all twisted together like a thousand rainbows. Molly could feel the fear building in her every fibre as she stared down at the wires. How could she think this would be so easy? This is a tight rope walk…a deadly game, where one wrong move could cause catastrophe. Molly knew she could not dismantle this bomb, no matter her intentions, no matter her courage…she should have known that from the beginning but…how could she not try? Molly was breathing very heavily now, frozen to the spot staring at the cables. She then fell back, pushing herself back against the wall below the mighty clock face. In the battle between fight and flight, flight had prevailed. 3:00…2:59. The gigantic hand of Big Ben's face passed by Molly's head before ascending up once more and around. Molly closed her eyes, gripping her hands tightly as the trembled uncontrollably. She remembered her big brother, Ben, 'Big Ben' as she used to call him…Molly took in a breath of despair "My Big Ben" she said quietly. She remembered him at their father's funeral, all in black and red cheeked from crying. "It's just you and I now Moll" he said to her, then made a half smile "He'd want us to be brave"
"Be brave" Sherlock's serene voice once more made its way into Molly's thoughts. "My love, you must be brave"
Molly opened her eyes. 2:21…2:20. Determination filling her every breath. She pulled herself forward and moved towards that ugly, deadly bomb. She knew what she had to do. Pulling the bomb into her embrace Molly carefully began to move up on to her feet. Her body was still very weak and her legs seemed to yell with pain as she stretched up into standing position. Molly rejected this pain, threw it aside as she turned towards the clock face.
"I am not going to die today." Molly thought as her courage began to build inside her like a fire. She took a deep breath, begging her muscles to stop shaking.
Suddenly a sound filled the small room, causing Molly to turn her head in surprise. It was a resounding knock.
"Molly!" Lestrade's voice was slightly muffled behind the metal door. "Molly, are you here?"
"I'm here" Molly responded, smiling at the sound of her friend's voice.
"Are you alright?" Lestrade called. Molly turned her face towards the clock face once more, her hands carefully placed around the bomb so it was well supported. "Can you see the bomb?" Lestrade asked, louder this time, with more concern.
"Yes I can see it" Molly responded, her voice trembling slightly as she looked down at the deadly weapon lying in her arms. She then lifted her head and looked out the clock face, down to the River Thames below.
"Okay…get out of the way Molly, we're coming in!" Lestrade's voice was full of determination.
"No need Greg. Everything's under control here" Molly said, her voice calm and soft.
"What? Molly I can't hear you. We're coming in" Lestrade shouted. A few moments later the sound of the full force of Lestrade's weight hitting the door was heard. Molly remained calm, she knew her movement would have to be quick and precise, a clumsy throw would cause the bomb to explode early and shatter the clock face and the upper floors of the clock tower. Molly had to do this with precision, with calm. Another thud hit the door, followed by a bellow of pain from Lestrade "For Christ's sake!" He yelled.
Molly tried to block out the noise as Lestrade continued his attempts at breaking and entering. Suddenly an idea came to Molly as she watched the clock's big hand pass her eyes. Pendulum! Molly knew what to do. Turning on her side, squaring up carefully with the side of the clock face Molly began to use her arms to sway the bomb backwards and forwards…backwards and forwards, like the pendulum of a grandfather clock or like the seat of a swing. Back and forth, back and forth. Thud, Lestrade had hit the door again, he seemed to be almost through. Molly could feel beads of sweat growing on her forehead. 1:34…1:33…1:32…sway, sway, sway…
And THROW! Molly suddenly let go of the bomb and jumped back out of the way, hunching up by the back wall. The heavy bomb immediately tore through the clock face like a torpedo, with such force the glass shattered instantly, crashing out into the London night and into the Thames below. The wind was strong and blasted into the small room, thrusting pieces of glass into the room, raining down on Molly and dancing on the metal floor. Then a large distant blast was heard, the bomb had detonated in the Thames. The river had taken most of the powerful hit resulting in a large fountain of water being blasted up, spraying London like an early morning drizzle.
"Molly!" Lestrade yelled in desperation as he made his final blow on the metal door, pushing it off its frame. The door fell down just centimetres from where Molly was lying, her hands covering her head, shaking. Lestrade ran in and grabbed onto her, pulling her around. His face filled with shock as he witnessed her facial injuries and bloody wrists. "Molly…Molly?" He said, looking down at her. "We have to get her out of here" Lestrade said turning to Sally. "Call Sherlock" He said as he turned back to Molly "Tell him Molly Hooper is alive. Tell him Molly Hooper is safe."
Molly's eyes darted side to side, staring up at her friend. "That was a bloody idiotic thing you did Molly...but it was also bloody brave" He smiled and took a deep breath. "C'mon now, let's get you up. It's time for a little reunion" He smiled as he gently pulled Molly onto her feet and pulled her arm around his shoulder. They made their way towards the stairwell and stopped for a moment.
"What's wrong Greg?" Molly said quietly, looking up at him.
"334 steps Molly. This may take a while" He grunted, taking a deep breath. Molly smiled at him and sighed. Relief flowing through her like the Thames. 334 steps and then Sherlock. 334 steps and then life.