In The Game of Love

sixteen

"He's had you plant another bomb, hasn't he?" John questioned.

"Where is the bomb, Claude?" Y/N asked carefully. "You can tell us." He shook his head as he took another sip of wine.

"Claude, please," Simza pled. "These people can help you."

"I wish they could," he responded. "You see... he has my wife and children."

Y/N's hand gripped the one Sherlock had on her as her heart threatened to break.

"If you tell us where the bomb is, I'll find a way to help your family," Sherlock promised.

Claude shook his head as he answered, "That's already taken care of. We have a deal. He and I. No loose ends."

"Claude, he will not keep his end," Y/N said. "You have a better chance at keeping your family safe by helping us than making a deal with him."

"There's only one thing I can do to keep my family safe. You have less than 10 minutes." Claude pulled out a gun and put it to his temple.

"Don't!" Sherlock exclaimed, going to stop him.

But it was too late. Claude pulled the trigger. Simza exhaled sharply as Y/N closed her eyes. Sherlock stood up and placed a hand on the man's shoulder.

"He has no further need of that pistol," Sherlock told John. "Why don't you take it and cover the stairs?"

John did as he was told, taking Claude's pistol and standing at the bottom of the stairs. Sherlock stood in front of the burning fireplace, studying it. Y/N opened her eyes and turned towards Simza.

"I'm so sorry," Y/N whispered.

Commotion began coming from the top of the stairs and John began shooting the pistol. Y/N stood up and went to stand next to Sherlock. His eyes were closed in deep concentration.

"There's only one way out of this place," John said.

Sherlock's eyes snapped opened and he focused on one of the coat hooks on the wall. "Right you are," he said. He walked forward and pulled the hook down. A secret door in the wall opened up. "Ah. Ingenious. That's the one. Quickly as we can."

"So clever," Y/N smirked.

"I know I am."

"I was talking about the builders."

Sherlock pursed his lips and pushed Y/N through the doorway. "You know what to do with that sandbag, Watson."

Simza followed behind Y/N and Sherlock. They could hear John pull the blade out of his cane and cut the rope that held the door open. They found fire and Sherlock held it for life. Y/N glanced at Simza who seemed to be in shock.

"Doctor, could you secure that lever?" Sherlock asked.

John went to secure the lever as Sherlock and Y/N studied the room. There were several cluttered work stations in the small room. Cluttered with the things you would need to make a bomb.

"You could have told me," Simza said. "Ravache was strong. He lived for liberty. He would never take his own life."

"Calm yourself," John suggested.

"You'd be surprised what people would do because of Moriarty," Y/N said. She met Sherlock's gaze for a brief second before he went.

"My brother, he—he's weak," Simza continued.

"Sim, I need you to take a deep breath," John said. "And follow us."

"To the opera," Sherlock stated.