ELEVEN
the infiltration
Sherlock and John rode silently together in the taxi.
The text with the address had come a bit earlier, and they had jumped in a taxi and were driving there.
John's gun was in the back of his jeans.
He wasn't going to trust one of Moriarty's guards.
"Alana," Moriarty called in a singsong voice, "it's showtime!"
Even though she was twelve floors below him and certainly couldn't hear him, Moriarty was excited all the same.
"W" was in place and had memorized his lines and what he was supposed to do.
Soon, the heroes would come crashing in, to liberate the poor princess from the villain.
It was shaping up to be a perfect fairytale.
The hidden cameras and bugs in her room would let him absorb every detail of her "rescue".
Even better, she'd actually think she was being rescued.
He sighed. Sherlock was just so boring sometimes.
That's why Alana would have to teach him a lesson.
The guard met them around the back.
"I'm W," he whispered. "We don't have much time."
Sherlock deduced a couple things about him (middle-aged, teenage daughter, two cats, trained in the army) before his head started to hurt and he gave up.
John was looking a bit oddly at Sherlock, almost as if he was saying, Well? Does this guy check out? Is he what he said he was?
John didn't need to know that Sherlock was tired. And Sherlock was fairly certain. He nodded yes.
"Where is she?" John asked in a low voice.
"About 10 floors down or so. The cell is guarded by a retinal scanner and a thumbprint access, but I managed to disable it while she was away with Moriarty and we were on our lunch break. I have no idea why she's guarded so heavily. I mean, she's what, sixteen?" He looked at John and Sherlock as if he was expecting them to tell him something, but when their faces remained impassive, he continued. "We're in a blind spot right now, but I'm on break. I only have about five minutes until I have to go back."
"Are there cameras?" Sherlock asked.
"All over the outside, but not really on the inside, only in her cell. That's why we'll have to move fast once we get her, they'll know as soon as we go inside. I can lead you out, it's a maze in there."
John looked skeptical. "Remind us again why you're risking your life to let a girl you don't even know out of her cell?"
W shuffled his feet. "Well, like I said, I have a daughter her age. Elizabeth. I never really wanted to work for Moriarty, but when I retired from the army… well. The pay's decent, but hearing Moriarty and her in there…" he shuddered. "Seems like she needs out more than I do."
"Let's go." Sherlock popped his collar and walked behind W into Moriarty's lair.
Alana gasped. He was here. She could feel him. Like a flaming torch, a burning pillar, Sherlock Holmes's mind flared through her brain. And the doctor was there too, less bright, less burning, but warm and gentle.
They were heading towards her.
Hope rushed through her, but she suppressed it. It was possible, even likely, that Moriarty would capture them before they got to her.
Hope couldn't be relied on, these days.
Moriarty laughed, watching his agent, Sherlock, and John run through the hallways. "W" had been lying, of course there were secret cameras in the building.
It was amazing to see Sherlock at an almost human level of thinking.
If he was rested, he could have deducted Moriarty's whole plan from his agent's appearance, but he wasn't.
That was the point.