"Stand up Watson!" Mycroft spat. "You've meddled in our plans for long enough, now we're going to show you what we do to the people that stand in our way."

Blue eyes flicked up to grey, hoping that the younger man could read all he was trying to say with that look, then tightening his grip on the blade John turned away from both Holmes brothers as he slowly twisted, catching the eyes of both Lestrade and Donovan as he rose to his feet.

In one smooth movement he launched himself, catching Moriarty and bearing him to the ground, the knife in his hand thrust deep into the Irishman's neck, slicing through carotid artery and going deep, separating the spinal cord at the cervical vertebrae.

Both Donovan and Lestrade had moved at the same time, tackling Moriarty's thugs, using them to block Reader and Drury, fighting dirty and using every trick they could think of to keep them down.

Guns skittered across the floor. Sammy and Kallie grabbed and hid them.

Sherlock saw that his brother had John's gun in his hand and was raising it; taking aim at the doctor's exposed back.

He leapt forward, grabbing Mycroft's wrist, and the two struggled for control of the weapon.

There was a crack of gunfire, and the room was awash with blood.