The Woman Who Counted (A Sherlolly Tale)

Chapter 50

 He was certain he'd found Moriarty. Absolutely positive. Well, positive it was one of his handymen anyways.

"The pearl of the Borgias."

But he was wrong.

His eyes flickered down to the broken bust. In that moment, his world went dark. He heard nothing. He felt nothing. The only thing in focus was the memory stick which lay in the rubble.

A.G.R.A.

"It's not possible." His voice was a whisper as her knelt down to pick it up. He didn't even realize he was speaking. "How could she...?"

His mind wandered. Mary sat in the chair, handing that same memory stick to her husband. Anger was, it seemed, tangible. Then it was burning. The memory stick was gone, yet there it was. In his hand.

"I don't understand. She-she destroyed it."

The man had grabbed his gun. "She?" He got onto his knees, cocking the gun and pointing it at him. "You know her?" Sherlock said nothing, still thinking - trying to understand - but he looked up at the man. Sirens wailed, getting closer and closer each second "You do, don't you? You know the bitch." He spat out his words. "She betrayed me. Betrayed us all."

"Mary.... This is about Mary."

"Is that what she's calling herself now?"

Lestrade shouted over a loudspeaker outside. "Armed police. You're surrounded."

The man stood, hands shaking, gun still pointed at Sherlock. "Give it to me.... Give it to me!"

Lestrade spoke again. "I'm going in! I want to see your hands above your head!"

"Nobody shoots at me! If anyone shoots, I kill this man."

"Lay down your weapons. Do it now!"

"I'm leaving this place. If no one follows me, no one dies."

"Lay down your weapons."

"You're a policeman. I'm a professional." His eyes flicked from the window back to Sherlock. "Tell her she's a dead woman. She's a dead woman walking."

Sherlock stared, his expression hardened, body stiff but ready to move. "She's my friend, and she's under my protection. Who are you?"

"I'm the man who's going to kill your friend. Who's Sherlock Holmes?"

"Not a policeman."

The gun went off. The room went dark. Feet stomped out of the room as an alarm rang. All he could do was look at the memory stick in his hand, roll it around. Be sure it was real. It wasn't the same one, but it must be the same thing.

He was gone before the police made their way inside. He'd speak to Lestrade later, but now? He had to speak to Mary. He had to know what was happening. This wasn't a part of Moriarty's plan, it couldn't be, could it?

He called John, told him what he found and what he thought was about to happen. It was John who suggested putting a tracer in the memory stick.

"I am an idiot. I know nothing."

Mary lowered her hood. "Well, I've been telling you that for ages." She gave him a smile. "That was quite a text you sent me." She looked around, checking the perimeters of the room. The last time they met like this she was in for a surprise, and not a good one. "What's going on, Sherlock?"

"I was so convinced it was Moriarty, I couldn't see what was right under my nose." He sighed. "Expected a pearl." He looked down at the USB, flipping it over to read the acronym.