A/N: Due to the popularity of this story I will continue! Thank you to the reviewers, alerters and favouriters! On to Chapter 2…

Hunted

John's military instinct kicked in immediately and he assessed the threat in less than thirty seconds. Although his heart was telling him to fight, his mind fought the urge and he continued calmly up the stairs, slowing his step slightly. When he reached the landing he paused for a moment which earned him a rough stab in the back with the metal barrel of the weapon his assailant carried.

Sherlock listened intently to the change in his partner's step on the stairs. Something was wrong but he wasn't sure what. Normally he would have deduced the whole process by now but something was clouding his usual clearly defined mind. It was only the grunt of pain from John that raised his interest enough to make his way to the side door on their landing. Keeping out of sight he spotted John's assailant through a crack in the glass. As John reached the door handle and entered the living room, Sherlock moved stealthily, or so he thought, into an attacking position. As he raised himself to his fullest height a shout alerted the gunman to his presence and something sharp brought pain then darkness.

When Sherlock awoke he found himself, still in their rooms, but he couldn't move in any way. What was happening? His brain fought to catch up with what his senses were showing him. He was unsure of himself which caused him to panic, something which could be detrimental to his survival. He blinked away the pain and glanced around to gather more data. John was next to him, bound in the same way but seemed unharmed apart from a small bruise forming on his temple. When he realised Sherlock was conscious once more he looked relieved and nodded to the corner of the room.

"Ah Mr Holmes you are back with us. I was just informing John about how much of an inconvenience you have become in or plans. I very much regret that you did not die in the explosion. It would have been much less painful than what you will endure now," a rasping voice informed him. Suddenly Sherlock was fully alert. Death often cleared the mind of anything trivial and unimportant.

"What exactly do you believe you will achieve by killing either John or myself? Your plot is destined to fail as I have already informed my brother of your little scheme." replied Sherlock sounding more confident than he did in fact feel. The gunman seemed to see through his façade and chuckled to himself.

"Oh Sherlock if only John here knew how your lying is going to affect him. Every time you lie John will suffer and I think that it will start now! Smyth if you would be so kind!" he finished with a grin forming on his face. Out of the corner of his eye Sherlock saw a man rise from the armchair which was usually occupied by himself. He had been hidden from view until now and then the pieces fell into place. His had been the voice who had given the head's up to the gunman. As Sherlock worked through the consequences the man named Smyth moved towards the army doctor and punched him hard in the side of the head. Blood sprayed over Sherlock's face and John let out a groan of pain. He fell limp as his strength drained from his body. A stab of emotion pierced Sherlock like a knife, sentiment again filling his heart. If anything worse happened to John he would never forgive himself.

"Let's try this again Sherlock without the lying… hmm… what have you discovered about our organisation?" he asked with a warning tone.

"Nothing at all and that is the truth" Sherlock pleaded wanting his friend to be safe from any more suffering. The gunman laughed once again and nodded to Smyth who punched the doctor, harder this time. This torture continued for another hour with the gunman never believing Sherlock, and John suffering more and more as a result of each sentence which passed Sherlock's lips. Eventually the men stopped giving John time to regain consciousness and look to Sherlock with empty eyes. His strength to fight was gone and he appeared to have accepted his fate. Then his eyes brightened slightly and John glanced to the mantelpiece with urgency. Sherlock understood suddenly, as a plan began to form in his mind. It would be risky but it might just save their lives.

They had planned this idea when they had first moved into Baker St. with both men agreeing it was worth the time and effort. They had developed a mechanism which was to be used only in emergencies. This right now, indicated by John, was that time of emergency. They just had to wait for the right opportunity to arise.

The gunman and Smyth focused their attention back on the detective and the doctor before they had the chance to speak but the consent had already been given. Sherlock nodded and John gave a small grin before muttering a sentence almost in silence

"Mrs Hudson is going to kill us if they don't…"

This made Sherlock smile and without warning he fell backwards into the mantelpiece. Smyth rose unsure of what had happened but the gunman told him not to bother.

"What harm could he possibly do…it's not like he can escape". Just then John did the same thing falling as close as he could to the fireplace. If they had timed it right and if they had fallen right they would be safe from what was about to occur; if they had timed it wrong they would go the same way as the gunman and his accomplice. Sherlock flicked the hidden switch which they had installed and then all hell broke loose. Gunfire emitted from several spots around the room and explosions began to sound as metal hit metal and wood. The hunters ran for cover escaping down the stairs as they watched the room explode in front of their eyes.

Sherlock and John had prepared themselves mentally for the explosion but still it was louder than either of them could have anticipated as the debris came flying in their direction. They closed their eyes in unison as the first sirens filled their ears.

A/N: Well there you have it...Let me know what you think! Hope you enjoyed it.