Chapter 14
Nowhere to Run
Sherlock
"I am not given to outbursts of brotherly compassion, but I was there for you before and I'll be there for you again." Mycroft promised as Sherlock struggled to breathe. John. God, John. MIA. His vision tunneled and Sherlock fell deep into his mind palace and out of the shadows, something surfaced.
The verse echoed through Sherlock's mind. "Very well, said the merchant, I give in. I am yours. But tell me, why did you look surprised this morning when you saw me in Baghdad? Because, said death, I had an appointment with you tonight, in Samara." Sherlock murmured.
"Appointment in Samara, the merchant who can't outrun death. You always hated that story as a child." Mycroft replied sounding perplexed.
"Death waits for us all in Samara, but can Samara be avoided?" Sherlock probed. Mycroft sighed before he replied.
"My contact for John is missing as well, Sherlock. I'm flying blind." Mycroft admitted reluctantly. "I can only tell you his last known whereabouts, Kandahar. The rest is up to you. Narrow it down."
"Then I know what I have to do, brother mine." Sherlock whispered cutting the call before Mycroft could utter another word in protest. John, Sherlock needed to know what happened to John, whether he was dead or alive. Kandahar. That would be his starting point. That was all that Mycroft was able to give him, the last known whereabouts of John's SAS training unit. Not much to go on, but Sherlock didn't need much. It was time to start calling in the few favors that he had left. Sherlock dialed and Irene's Adler's voice greeted him.
"Sherlock Holmes, back from the dead? You've become a ghost, like me." She whispered.
"I need your help. I don't have much time." Sherlock pleaded.
"I owe you my life. I'll do anything in my power to help you." She replied. Sherlock breathed a sigh of relief. "But tell me, what is that I can do for you that your other contacts can't?"
"John's reenlisted. He was stationed Afghanistan, his last known location was Kandahar, before his troop went MIA during an ambush by ISIS. No body was retrieved. I have to know what happened. I have to know if he is dead or alive." Sherlock explained as his throat tightened with emotion. "I always assumed that love was a dangerous disadvantage, chemical defect, human error. Thank you for the final proof." Sherlock murmured softly to himself.
"Oh, Sherlock….the odds; they're not good, assuming that John is even still alive." Irene replied. "There are rumors of POW camps, but they are well hidden and not one has been uncovered. I could use my skills to trade information with the enemy. After all, men tend to reveal all kinds of things in the throes of passion, but if I am caught, I am as good as dead. Prostitution is a capital offense here." She explained.
Sherlock was silent for a moment weighing her words before he answered. "I have to know." He repeated and continued. "I'll be on a flight tomorrow."
"I'll put things in motion, but I can't make any promises." Irene replied.
Sherlock cut the call and squeezed the phone in frustration. His worst fears were coming to pass. After taking a few deep breaths, he dialed again. "Sherlock?" Molly Hooper's voice wavered uncertainly.
"You were right. I'm not OK." Sherlock whispered in a voice that shook with emotion. "I need to know what happened to John. I have to look, but I think I'm going to die. I need you, if I go missing…"
"What are you planning to do Sherlock? Just go out on your own guns blazing? Alone?" Molly demanded.
"Alone is what I have. Alone protects me." Sherlock whispered.
Molly grit her teeth and demanded. "What's going to kill you?"
"Human Error." Sherlock answered without pausing to think.
"You have to control the pain!" Molly pleaded. "You aren't thinking clearly."
"I can't." Sherlock admitted his chest tightened at the admission realizing how far he has fallen.
"You need to focus!" Molly shouted in frustration feeling helpless knowing that nothing would stop Sherlock from going to the end of the earth for John, not even the threat of death. She offered an olive branch sensing a losing game when she saw one. "What can I do?"