"I Will Give You Anything"

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Sherlock’s arm dropped towards the floor, jerking him up from his slumber. His eyes flew open and the cloudy image of a white ceiling processed in his mind. He felt the heaviness of his lids pull him back to darkness before he realized that he could see.

Opening his eyes a little wider, Sherlock found himself lying on concrete floor with a steal arch securing his neck to the floor. The rest of his body was mobile, but the collar limited his movement severely. Looking around, he saw nothing but padded walls, a table, and two chairs. His first reaction was to call out, but he knew better than to believe his captors would answer.

He blinked, feeling the warmth of a strange layer of glaze around his eyes. By the smell, he found the ointment to be a mixture of an antibiotic and a numbing treatment.

“You know your friend is in trouble,” came the sinister female voice from the doorway.

Without moving, Sherlock replied candidly, “Should I care?”

“Depends on which friend you believe I’m talking about,” Evangeline replied, leaving no pause between her answer and Sherlock’s. She came into the room, closing the door behind her, and knelt beside the detective’s head. Her bright blue eyes and silky blonde hair mesmerized Sherlock. He didn’t have any growing romantic interests in her, but he did respect her intellect.

Cocking her head and narrowing one eye, the lady asked, “You’re staring at me. Do you like what you see?”

Simpering, Sherlock replied, “Not in any way. In fact, I think I should be asking you that question. Your attempt to seduce me into a territory I’d rather not learn about is failing rapidly. If you knew me, Ms. D’Nour, you’d know I find a person who uses their brain entirely more attractive. I don’t care much for the skin that comes with it.”

“Fair enough,” Evangeline said, leaning back onto her heels. “And the friend I was talking about was Eric Rawlings. I know he told you about my visit. However, he won’t be a bother to either of us because he’s dead.”

Sherlock showed no emotions.

“I knew he would tell you,” she confirmed.

“And because he did, I knew exactly who you were when you approached me. You should have staggered it.”

“Staggered it?” Evangeline repeated.

“Yes. The time span between his message to me and your arrival was far too close together; you gave yourself away too soon.”

Evangeline ascended to her feet and placed a hand on her hip. “I’m too impatient.”

Sherlock’s lip twitched in a smile. Breaking his gaze, his eyes inspected the room. When he returned to Evangeline, he said bluntly, “I noticed that you’re short on electricity. Except for the lights.”

“I don’t like having electronics—any form of immediate contact to the world out us has been removed. I think you can be discovered more that way.”

“Then, how do you get about?”

“Simple. Moriarty hired a team for me, I send them out by car; tell them the amount of time they have to complete a mission and the deadline to return. If one fails to return, that’s why I send out three to five people. I count on my men, both the Americans and the Russians, to do whatever I tell them to.”

“And, do they trust you?” Sherlock asked.

Evangeline broke into her own sly smile. She titled her chin and replied through a soft laugh, “Of course they do, Mr. Holmes. Though, I’m Evangeline D’ Nour to the Russians, and ‘The Axis’ to the Americans.”

“You gave yourself completely away to Rawlings because you knew he would tell me—you wanted me to find you.”

With a dramatic flip of the hair, Evangeline declared, “Surprise! You found me out.” She approached him again and bent over from the waist, planting her hands on her knees for support. “Tell me, Detective Holmes, what more is on this envelope that I should know about?”

Sherlock watched in pulsing horror as she pulled out the envelope from the inside of her blouse. Biting the inside of his lip, he looked up into her icy blue eyes.

“Don’t be shy, Sherlock, I only want to know the formula. And I know you have it.” She brandished the crinkled piece of paper in front of him. “Pretty please, pretty detective, won’t you help me?”

“Do you have lab? One with a microscope?”

“Honey, you can have whatever you like. And when you tell me the code, I’ll give you anything.” She gave him a seducing pout of the lips and leaned down a little more, exposing more of her womanly curves.

Ignoring her and fixing his eyes on the ceilings, he said in tone much like one he’d use when ordering food, “I’d have John Watson, actually. And I’ll have him before I give you the formula.”

Squinting her eyes, Evangeline made a low growl in her throat and straightened her back. She tucked the envelope inside her blouse and made for the door. “Why don’t we play a game, Mr. Holmes. It’s one you can’t refuse.”

In a sarcastic exclamation, Sherlock widened his eyes and said in childlike excitement, “Oh, please, please, tell me it’s Russian Roulette!”

Evangeline’s brows bent in surprise and she twisted her mouth to one side. “How did you know? Or was that a wild guess on your part?”

Seeing that he didn’t mean to get it right, but did, Sherlock replied with a cocky waggle of his head, “Obviously, I knew.”

Shaking her head and grinning, she replied with a sharp bite at the end of her tongue, “No, you didn’t. Good try, though.” She disappeared from the door and later returned with a man, draped in a dark hoody, and a loaded pistol. “The game’s simple: two bullets, six empty chambers, and two men.”

“Who’s that?” Sherlock asked.

“A mistake,” Evangeline replied as she led the bound figure over to the table. She sat him down and placed the pistol in the center of the table. “One of my men thought it was you, but he wasn’t. Now, we can’t let him go because he’s a witness to our group.” After tying the stranger’s legs to a stake under the table, Evangeline went over to Sherlock and unlocked the neck collar.

Sherlock could sense she was bracing herself in case he made to escape, but he didn’t attempt. He instead, cooperated.

“You’re excited about this—are you willing to gamble your life, Mr. Holmes.”

“I’d never pass up the extremes.” Sherlock gave her a wink and walked over to the chair. He sat down, planted his feet squarely on the floor and eyed the pistol. A thrill shot up his spine and his muscles twitched with adrenaline.

Evangeline went over to the door and closed it. Crossing her arms, she leaned against it. “Game starts when you’re ready. Remember, you’re gambling. Your brilliance won’t stop a bullet.”

Reaching out for the weapon, he slowly looked up at Evangeline and whispered confidently, “Oh, I wouldn't say that.” 

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