The Weapon-A Sherlock Fanfiction

Chapter 21~The Hounds of Baskerville

We were on our way to Baskerville, where we hoped to find some answers about the suspicions about genetic mutations. Sherlock was driving, and I stared out the window with troubled eyes. I was not looking forward to this visit.

"What do you know about Baskerville, Jax?" Sherlock asked. I averted my eyes from the window and looked at him through the rear view mirror. I cleared my throat.

"Baskerville. Let's see. Well, it's technically an army base so it's surrounded by mine fields. Barbed wire fence, round the clock armed patrollers, and a keycard requirement for every door. They do everything from stem cell research to curing the common cold. Mostly biological and genetic weaponry, though. They run quite a few experiments and operations that are completely unknown to the government, probably because they wouldn't be allowed to perform them if the government did know about them. God, I've got so many files on Baskerville. It's top top secret. I don't know how you plan to get into it, Sherlock." I said. We pulled up to the front gate and an officer with a gun under his arm walked up to the window. Sherlock handed him an ID card.

"You've got ID for Baskerville? How?" John asked.

"It's not specific to this place. It's my brother's. Access all areas. I uh...'acquired' it ages ago. Just in case."

"Oh, brilliant." I said sarcastically.

"What?" Sherlock said.

"We'll get caught." I remarked.

"No we won't!" Sherlock replied. "Well, not just yet."

"Caught in five minutes." John muttered.

""Hi we thought we'd have a wander around you're top secret weapons base." "Really? Great. Come in, kettle's just boiled."" I imitated.

"That's if we don't get shot." John commented. The officer appeared at the window again with the ID.

"Clear." He said, handing it back to Sherlock. The gates swung open and we drove through.

"Mycroft's name literally opens doors." John said.

"I've told you, he practically is the British government. How do you think he was able to get Jax out of that facility she was in?" Sherlock said.

"I reckon we've got twenty minutes until they realize something's wrong." I said. We drove towards the bleak looking building, my hands clenched in my lap. We parked the car and walked towards the building as men in lab coats and camouflage jumpsuits strolled past us. A man wearing a black hat and camouflage suit ran up to us.

"What is it? Are we in trouble?" He asked nervously.

"Are we in trouble, sir." Sherlock snapped.

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir." The cadette replied.

"You were expecting us?" Sherlock asked.

"Your ID showed up straight away, Mr. Holmes. Corporal Lyons, security." He introduced himself.

"Is there something wrong, sir?" The Corporal asked.

"I hope not, Corporal, I hope not." Sherlock replied.

"It's just we don't get inspections here, sir. It just doesn't happen." He explained.

"Ever heard of a spot check?" John said.

"Major Barrymore won't be pleased, sir. He'll want to see you three." The Corporal explained.

"I'm afraid we won't have time. We need the full tour." I said.

"Yes, ma'am." The Corporal said, turning and walking towards the door. He swiped his keycard, and Sherlock swiped his. The screen flashed green, and the door clicked open. It was a thick steel door, no way of breaking it down if needed, I observed. We entered the building, and the familiar smell of antiseptic and metal filled my nose. It hit me so hard that I coughed and almost gagged. It was freezing, the cold seeping through my skin and into my bones. I took deep, shallow breaths. The walls were white, and the fluorescent lights made me blink. Everything was so frighteningly familiar that I couldn't help but twitch as I looked around. My heart rate increased. I saw Sherlock watching me from the corner of his eye. We entered the elevator, and I eyed the buttons on the wall. We emerged from the elevator doors and walked into the room. Everything was painted white. Machines and medical equipment occupied every corner, the polished metal gleaming in the bright light. I recognized the EKG machine and the anesthetic machine, the ventilator and the IV that my wrist was very familiar with. My heart was pounding in my ears. People in lab coats, full plastic body suits, and gas masks were wandering around the lab, jotting things down on clipboards. I heard my rasping breaths escaping from my mouth. Huge metal cages rested against the wall, some of them covered with white sheets. Cages. I thought. Test subjects, prisoners. An animal shriek pierced my eardrums, making me jerk back at the monkey who had leapt onto the cage bars. The look in it's glassy eyes reached out to me. Rabid, frantic, desperate. I knew that look. I made that look. My heart was in my throat, my stomach churning. The stench of the lab made my head throb, the smell of plastic gloves, metal, and chemicals. Like a dentist's office but ten times worse. I wobbled on my feet. The white light was blurring, my hearing was fuzzy. Oh God...make it stop. Just breath...in, out. In, out. The smell was filling my lungs, fogging my brain. White, white everywhere. Not again, not again. The smell! Oh God, the smell! The ground was shifting. This can't be happening. I can't have a breakdown now. Not in front of Sherlock and John. The next thing I knew, I was leaning against a table with faces leaning over me. Surgical masked faces hovered over me. Glazed eyes, unyielding. Inspecting, observing. I cried out and shoved them away, stumbling backwards.