Side of the Angels ~ A BBC Sherlock Fanfiction {Book II} *UNDER EDITING*

Chapter 28- Accusations

Millie's POV

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"I told you. Told you it was a bloody terrible idea," says John, leaning back into his armchair and crossing his arms.

"I thought it went rather well."

"You were showing off."

"Of course I was showing off. That's what people do in interviews, isn't it?"

I laugh, but then stop at the look on Mycroft's face. It's been a good three hours since Sherlock returned from the studio.

"Oh for god's sake, you two are being absolutely imbecilic," snaps Mycroft, standing up, "Three hours ago, national television was hijacked by what we can only assume was a malicious broadcast operated by James Moriarty. Do you three not comprehend the severity of the situation?"

"Evidently not," retorts Sherlock.

"We can't let your game destroy an entire nation, Sherlock."

"I doubt it will escalate to that level."

"I digress," says Mycroft, smiling sarcastically, "In the last five years we have experienced break-ins in the Tower of London, Pentonville Prison, the Bank of England, received war threats from the Chinese government, and have now witnessed the hijacking of national television all because you failed to destroy him-"

"I failed to destroy him? Last time I checked, Mycroft, it was you in charge of British Security, not me."

"I'm not the one involved in a ridiculous game that will inevitably conclude in the destruction of both lives and global reputation," snaps Mycroft.

Sherlock mimics his self-righteous tone. John laughs, then stops, quickly, at Mycroft's glare.

"Grow up. All of you. You're not playing games with schoolboys, Sherlock, not anymore. James Moriarty is the most-"

"The most dangerous criminal mind- yes, yes, we've been here already, Mycroft. I'm perfectly aware of his accolades. But the only way we have a chance to stop the destruction is to humour him and play his game."

"The royal we."

"Millie and John are just as involved as I am..."

"No, they're not. Moriarty is entirely focused on you, Sherlock, and his attention will not shift until he brings you down."

Sherlock and Mycroft are standing opposite eachother, silently fuming, almost nose to nose. John and I shift uncomfortably in the background

Then there's a high pitched trilling, which cuts through the tension immediately. It's a ringtone. Mycroft steps neatly away from Sherlock, and pulls his phone. He regards the screen cautiously, not recognising the number, and then answers-

"Hello? Yes, speaking."

He pauses, listening intently for a couple of minutes-

"And you have concrete evidence?"

His frown deepens-

"You are aware that I shall have to press charges, correct?"

"What is it?" interrupts Sherlock, looking up.

"Agreed."

And then he hangs up.

Mycroft is silent for a very long time.

"Sherlock, at this moment every accessible piece of information on every British ambassador is being sold out to all newspapers and high profile media outlets in this country," he says, his voice, although contained, showing definite signs of strain- "Consider this a national crisis."

"And how does this concern me?"

"It doesn't."

We stare at him-

"It concerns Emily Schott."

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Sherlock is the first to speak. 

"You have no proof that it was-"

"I just received a phone call from an anonymous source informing me of Emily's recent activity. The speaker insists he has concrete evidence, and is willing to present it in court. I shall have to contact every publicist involved to insist on the eradication of this information. And there will be consequences, Sherlock."

"No.." says Sherlock through narrowed eyes, "She was in this room hours ago. It would take days of continuous work to pull of such an elaborate scheme-"

"Brother mine, you and I both know that Emily's skill level is...uncommon. We know that she could easily hack almost every global database in a very short time span. And," says Mycroft, straightening his jacket and picking up his umbrella-"We know that she has been involved in multiple criminal franchises in the past."

"You said that you would let her slip," hisses Sherlock. 

"Yeah- you told us you wouldn't press charges. And all you've got against her is an mystery phone call," adds John, standing up.

"I couldn't possibly risk it. If she is innocent, she will not be charged."

I get up too, and look at Mycroft coldly-

"You and I both know that if Emily is put on trial the verdict will most definitely be guilty. It is protocol to investigate the accused prior to her appearance in court- and of course her other illegal activity will be dragged in to the light. She will be sentenced, Mycroft, even if she is found to have no involvement with the selling of the information on the British ambassadors."

John looks at me, horrified, then back at Mycroft-

"You can't do this. She's working legally now- christ, she was working with us last week, on a case. You told us you would-"

"I know what I told you," snaps Mycroft. He exhales deeply, then says in a softer tone- "I'm sorry, truly, I am. But I don't have a choice."

And we can only stare at him as he turns on his heel and walks out of the apartment.

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Emily's POV 

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There's a hammering at the door.

I frown, and sit up, instantly on edge.

I go over to the door, and open it, to reveal at least eight police officers, two of which are armed, standing in the dim light.

Shit.

"Emily Schott?"

I nod, my mouth dry.

"I am arresting you on suspicion of leaking confidential information. Everything you say from this moment onwards will be used against you in court."

I close my eyes.

Mycroft Holmes.

I knew I should have changed my name, when I had the chance.

The policewoman at the forefront shakes her head, and clips on the handcuffs. I'm pushed forward, through the officers and lead down the stairs. There's an impressive crowd gathering at the bottom of the stairwell, all watching the scene with wide-eyed apprehension.

It's a large scale operation.

Something pretty serious must have happened.

Obviously, I'm innocent, as I haven't been involved in any criminal activity for three months- I've been framed. However, my name is already in the record book.

I'm going to be jailed regardless.

Someone pushes my head down into the awaiting police car, and I lean back into the seat, my head swimming.

So much for the side of the angels.

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