Chapter Text
‘What the devil do you mean by you knew it all along?!’ Sherlock yelled on the top of his voice and luckily for the elder Holmes there was a table between them.
‘Brother dear, keep your voice down,’ Mycroft responded calmly, taking a tired breath. ‘There’s no need to shout.’
‘And if you please, refrained from the use of profanities that would be much appreciated,’ added grumpily William Lestrade.
‘Sherlock, don’t worry, all of my men are working on the case. We will find her,’ the D.I. reassured him.
‘With all due respect, Geoff, your men are useless, ‘Sherlock snapped impatiently, ‘if I am not capable of finding her, then no one is.’
‘Gregory, my brother’s name is Gregory-‘ William corrected him.
‘Doesn’t matter Bill,’ Lestrade muttered with a wave of the hand.
‘Your daughter has been kidnapped by the most notorious criminal in the world and your biggest problem is how I call your brother?! Sherlock barked at the elder man, and again the table came in handy.
‘Listen here, others might tolerate your attitude-‘
‘William, we should-‘Mycroft started, trying to make peace.
‘And you, brother!’ the flaming blue eyes turned away from the outraged figure and landed on his cooler counterpart. ‘How could you have used her as a bail? How could you have risked her life? How could you have let that man speak to her? How? She is your associate’s daughter for God’s sake!’
‘Sherlock, don’t let your personal feelings cloud your judgement-‘Mycroft replied, his voice still as calm a cucumber.
‘Personal feelings? You are well aware that I am in love with her!’
William Lestrade grunted with disapproval while his brother gasped and murmured something under his breath resembling to ‘God save us’.
‘We can all agree on the fact that Lisbeth is precious to all of us. Nevertheless, she getting kidnapped was essential for finding Moran,’ Mycroft explained level-headed as ever.
‘I don’t care how you were planning to catch that criminal Mycroft, you should have never risked my daughter’s life. My only daughter.’ William shook his head in disbelief, on the same side of the table, but not the argument. ‘After what happened to her mother –‘
‘Oh, cut the sentiment!’ Sherlock sputtered, ‘You don’t even know your daughter.’
‘Excuse me?!’ The businessman’s anger was once again directed at the raven-haired figure. ‘How dare you accuse me of not knowing my own daughter? I have been with her since she was born, whereas you have only known her for less than half a year.’
‘William, your daughter did not… oppose to assisting Sherlock,’ Mycroft remarked and Sherlock laughed bitterly. Tension was palpable as the three men engaged in the battle of words, armed with long-kept grievances and an array of insults. Sides changed moment by moment, there seemed to be no alliances, but rather just belligerents, waiting for the opportunity to launch an attack on one another.
‘Assisting, that’s how you call living with him?’ William retorted in disbelief.
‘She did not disagree with living with me and solving crimes with me, ‘the detective joined the conversation. ‘However, I would have been strongly against using her as bait, if I had known!
‘Sherlock, dear brother, are you one hundred percent certain of that?’ the elder Holmes asked the million dollar question.
‘Yes, I am!’ the younger replied without hesitation.
‘In that case, I am not sure that this relationship of yours has a positive influence on you.’
‘The same is true for my daughter. I cannot understand why you are encouraging it,’ the not-Holmes added.
‘Shut up, both of you! You have no right to nose in our personal life!’
‘What did you just say-‘
‘SHUT UP! ALL OF YOU!’ out of nowhere a man shouted, making all the other speechless. They have long forgotten about the fourth participant, standing in the corner, quietly waiting for the children to finish the fireworks. William stared at his brother in awe, he would never have believed he would to raise his voice like this. Sherlock shot him a deadly glare, annoyed that he was not granted the opportunity to tell William off. Mycroft’s lips twitched , having enough of little brothers.
‘Will you please stop arguing? It doesn’t matter whose fault this is. And you,’ he turned to the two elder men, ‘indeed have no right to tell who Lizzie has chosen to be with. Don’t get me wrong, I am outraged that she was used as a bait, and I am not particularly fond of her being with Sherlock, running around, risking her life, but!’ he took a deep breath, and as he continued his voice filled with determination, ‘It is not my business. Right now, my division is, our division is, to find her. And in order to do that you should stop arguing!’
Lestrade folded his arms on his chest and eyed the three men confidently. William narrowed his eyes, wondering whether it really was his brother standing in front of him, then cleared his throat:
‘‘I’ll continue monitoring the security footage and CCTV of the car,’ he left.
Sherlock shook his head and stated, ‘I’ll consult my homeless network.’
‘Quite right. ‘Added Mycroft picking up his umbrella, ‘I’ll offer an expert help on tracing the phone number and call the private investigator who was tracing Moran.’
The D.I. nodded victoriously as the door was shut and he was left alone.
‘You still got this Greg, ‘he smiled at his reflection proudly, ‘Doesn’t matter what they say, it’s not a coincidence you are the D.I.’
flashback
‘I shouldn’t have let this happen,’ Mycroft murmured with phone in his hand, texting, as his brother joined him in the limousine.
‘How on Earth did he lure her into this trap?’ Sherlock inquired collectedly, but rage was boiling in him under the surface. He reached inside his pocket, taking out his phone, mimicking his brother.
‘He was flirting with her for the last month, always bumping into her somewhere where there were no CCTVs.’
‘I recognised that she was keeping something from me. No, she did admit that she was flirting with men from time to time, but I would have never imagined that he would-‘ Sherlock stopped texting as it downed on him. ’Did you know about this the whole time?’
‘Yes, little brother, I was very much aware of the fact that-’
‘You knew about this man,’ accusing his brother the detective’s voice hit a dead serious tone.
‘You as well had knowledge of Moriarty’s one last man. You just didn’t recognise it was him,’ the elder launched a counter attack.
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ A vein pumping in his neck, the younger demanded information. ‘Who is he?’
‘It’s Sebastian Moran,’ the name lingered in the air for a few moments before Sherlock gasped:
‘But, he was shot by the police. He is supposed to be dead.’
‘Well, apparently he is not,’ Mycroft added patiently, and he was nice enough not to point out how slow Sherlock was in putting the pieces together. After all, not every day was his brother’s girlfriend kidnapped… who in addition also happened to be his oldest friend’s daughter. Yes, another complication to be dealt with later.
‘Why did you let that scum near Lisbeth? Why did you let him befriend her?’ The detective burst out and his brother twitched.
‘I needed to wait until he made his move. I needed to see his plan. If Moriarty had a network, or something left of it, he would lead us right to it,’ he explained serenely, reading the text, he had just received, with a concern in his eyes.
‘You were using her as a bait all along?’ Sherlock asked, not expecting confirmation, but rather an explanation, an apology, or something to stop him from punching or strangling his brother.
‘Well, that is not the term I would have used, but yes, all in all I was,’ the elder replied casually, not even looking up from his phone.
A vein had risen in the centre of Sherlock’s forehead, quite a prominent one, and it pulsed steadily as he weighted how much he needed Mycroft to find Lisbeth. Though the elder did not bet an eye, he was very well aware of what was going on his brother’s mind.
‘Stop!’ Sherlock finally barked curtly, however the driver did not stop, just lowered the window and cast a glance at his boss questioningly. He waved his hand and the car came to a halt. The detective jumped out. As Mycroft peeked through the window could see his brother talking to a white young man agitatedly. By his clothes and raggedy appearance he identified him as part of Sherlock’s homeless network. The younger Holmes opened his wallet and pulled out not a note, but a picture. Mycroft smiled bleakly, it would have never occurred to him that his brother kept a picture of Lisbeth in his wallet. Maybe he underrated this relationship. His brother seemed less and less suitable and more and more influenced.
Sherlock got back at the car, unusually quiet. He stared out of the window sulkily, his eyes empty.
‘You have finally given up on venting on me?’ Mycroft turned to his brother who simply ignored him.
‘Very well. I am convinced that you have noticed we are heading towards Scotland Yard. Gregory has already been notified, and the whole yard is scanning security cameras and CCTVS trying to find out where he might have taken her. As you have thoroughly examined the spot where she got in the car, and found nothing, we have no clue, just the piece of paper with the number which you found in the pocket of Lisbeth’s coat. In the meantime, my agents have revealed the location of Moran’s flat. I believe the police are on their way, hopefully they did not forget the warrant. Would you like to fasten their work, or are you coming with me to the precinct?’ he arched an eyebrow at his younger sibling. He did not answer him, just dialled a number.
‘John, ‘he said in a low voice, ‘I need your help. Lisbeth’s been kidnapped.’
As Sherlock stepped inside Scotland Yard he found Lestrade ordering his men around and yelling things like ‘I don’t care about the deadline, this is top priority!’ ‘Stop doing whatever you are doing and start scanning the CCTV!’, ‘I don’t give a damn about parking tickets right now’, ‘Do whatever you want to do with him, I don’t care if you let him free!’, ‘Put down the doughnut and move your lazy ass!’ Sherlock has never seen him so frustrated and edgy before, nor had he seen the police working so hard. Molly came down hurrying towards him. She gave him a brief hug then held her gloved hand:
‘Give it to me Sherlock, I’ll look for fingerprints,’ she offered. Sherlock nodded thank you and handed her the piece of paper.
‘We believe it belongs to Sebastian Moran,’ he stated.
‘I’ll check it,’ she left the room.
‘I’ll need a map!’ Sherlock shouted. Surprisingly one of the policemen ran to him and gave him one. He didn’t bother with finding a desk; he just unfolded it on the floor.
Mycroft was casually leaning towards his umbrella, looking down at his brother:
‘We have no security footage of him. He was always careful not to be recorded by any CCTV. He always met Lisbeth where there were no cameras. Now it’s the same.’
‘Check the list of recently stolen cars and combine it with footage of the area! And call all taxi companies!’ he barked orders at the policemen.
‘They are already doing that,’ the elder informed him calmly. ‘I have my best man advising them.’
‘What?’ Sherlock was so taken aback that he looked up.
‘Mycroft, young Holmes, I see you have arrived,’ a man arouse from the security footage room.
‘What is he doing here?’
‘As you are aware, my daughter has been kidnapped. I am here to lead the investigation of finding her.’
‘I am perfectly capable of doing that, thank you very much.’
‘Sherlock, we need all the help we can get. William is a really sharp man. Let him control the footage and we can concentrate on finding her.’
‘It’s Moran’s fingerprint,’ Molly popped in.
Sherlock’s phone rang. He picked it up, his eyes still on William.
‘We found nothing that would tell us where they might be,’ John’s voice told him, ‘However, his gun is gone, he must have taken it with him. The neighbours said he left an hour ago. Oh, and Sherlock, judging by what we have found… He was making a bomb.’
‘I suspected he was planning on this,’ Mycroft murmured.
‘What the devil do you mean by you knew it all along?’
End of flashback
‘Oi boss, I’ve got some news for yah about your missy,’ a voice with strong accent called while Sherlock was edgily smoking a cigarette. He threw it away immediately as Higgins arrived.
‘Yes?’ he asked, rather demanded.
‘One of us has seen her getting in a car with a man, 5.9, blonde, neat haircut, handsome, around his thirties.’
‘Yes, I already know that. Do you have the licence plate number?’
‘Aye, LD58 BHC we know that the car has left London and it was heading west on M4.’
Sherlock nodded and gave some money to Higgins. He returned to the yard at once.
‘The car is heading south on M4. They have left London. The plate number is LD58 BHC trace it down,’ he shouted as he drew a line on the map.
‘The phone is a dead end. He must have destroyed it after he had sent you the text,’ Mycroft popped his head out. ‘And my private investigator was knocked out. He’s in coma. Moran must have found out about him. That’s a pity, he was one of the best,’ he murmured to himself.
‘We found the car!’ William joined the conversation. ‘It’s in Bristol.’
‘Bristol, why would they be in Bristol?’ Sherlock wondered and at the very moment he got a message.
Isn’t it lovely, how all of you are working together on finding this precious blonde girl? I am rather fond of her. Hurry up Sherlock, or I might keep her. Come where it all started. Needn’t I say if the police gets involved, I’ll blow her pretty head of.
J.M.
The blood ran cold in Sherlock’s veins. He realised that somehow Moran has hacked into the police’s system and he could not get Lestrade involved. Going there without backup would be walking into an obvious trap. There was just on solution. Mycroft.
He emerged slowly and showed the text to his brother. Mycroft face remained emotionless. He looked at his brother and nodded dutifully, knowing very well that his brother first encountered Moriarty at Bristol swimming pool.
‘Greg, you need to stop searching for Lisbeth,’ Sherlock told firmly to the D.I. The elderly man was taken aback both by the command, and the fact that once in his life Sherlock actually got his name right.
‘Wha-’?’ he asked stunned.
‘I know where she is. Moran is watching us. He messaged me saying not to get the police involved. He hacked into the police station, he’ll know if you do something. You have to trust me.’
‘But-’
‘That’s a decision that should be made by consent,’ William Lestrade joined the conversation, backing his brother.
‘I have no time for this. I must leave immediately.’
‘Sherlock is right. He must take off in this very moment. We shall not get involved,’ Mycroft cast a look at his colleague. They eyed for a second, and William nodded almost unnoticeable. They understood each other without words; Mycroft would take all precautions necessary and secure the area without the police.
‘Well, if you all excuse me, I’ll go and light a cigarette,’ this meant calling his special agents and asking for favours, in an alley where the security cameras wouldn’t record him.
‘How do you expect me to do nothing while Lizzie is in the hands of a sniper probably with a bomb?’ Lestrade blurted out.
‘All you can do Greg, is wait. I am sorry to say this, but right now, we have to let the couple figure out this quarrel. You heard him. We oughtn’t to get involved. We have to play by his rules.’
‘How can you be so calm and analytical when your daughter’s life is in danger?’
‘Well, someone has to stay organised in times of mortal peril. I am and always will be the rational one.’