Deductions of my Heart: A Sherlock Fanfiction

4. Declaration of War

We arrive at the tramway, hurrying down the dark tunnel as quietly as we can. Shivering slightly against the dusty, stale night air, I stick close to Sherlock's side as we near a dimly lit area of the tunnel. We can hear talking and yelling coming from John up ahead.

I start to pull out my gun but Sherlock shakes his head, "Not in here... the walls." He whispers. Nodding, I put it away quickly and pull out a dagger instead. I can feel Sherlock watching me again, and I move to the right to crouch behind a storage container.

"I'm not Sherlock Holmes!!" John shouts pleadingly from further down the tunnel, sounding panicked.

"I don't believe you!" I hear the hostess from the circus say, General Shan, I'm guessing.

Sherlock steps into the center of the tunnel, allowing the light from behind us to turn him into a silhouette. I smirk, so dramatic... though I'd probably do the same thing.

"You should, you know." Sherlock calls out. "Sherlock Holmes is nothing at all like him."

The sound of feet sliding on gravel is heard as General Shan turns around and cocks what sounds like a pistol. Sherlock darts out of sight crouching back down near me, his hand briefly touching my shoulder he flashes a smile mouthing the word ready, I nod surprised by how confident he is in including me now compared to back at his apartment when he seemed so worried and indifferent towards my presence.

We can hear softer footsteps nearing as one of Shans thugs moves in our direction.

"How would you describe me, John? Resourceful? Dynamic? Enigmatic?" Sherlock calls over the container.

John calls back, "Late?"

I chuckle silently at the response moving to the right, crouching close to the ground whilst Sherlock goes left.

"That's a semi-automatic. If you fire it, the bullet will travel at over a thousand meters per second." Sherlock states his voice echoing off the walls.

"Well?" Shan questions sounding stressed.

"Well... " Sherlock starts as the first thug reaches the storage container Sherlock is now hiding behind. He leaps out whacking the thug with a metal pipe he must have picked up, the man collapses and Sherlock retreats into the shadows.

"The radius curvature of these walls is nearly four meters. If you miss, the bullet will ricochet. Could hit anyone. Might even bounce off the tunnel and hit you."

Racing over to a burning dustbin I kick it over plunging us all into darkness. I move forward, sliding to my knees behind the girl tied to a chair directly in front of the loaded crossbow. I begin sawing through the thick ropes that bind her with my knife. This rope is thicker than I anticipated.

I look away for a moment trying to see where Sherlock disappeared to when I feel a thick fabric loop around my neck tightly dragging me backwards. With a yelp my knife snags on the ropes and I drop it trying to reach out for my attacker, he loops the fabric around a second time making it tighter. I reach back trying to get at his face with my hands but instead grab the fabric tightly in my hands before dropping my weight forward to my knees and curling downward letting my momentum pull the man cleanly over my shoulder releasing me from his grip.

Grabbing my knife and yanking the fabric from my throat coughing I stand to face my attacker who has also gotten back to his feet, I pretend to act nervous and drop my knife again. He looks down watching it fall while also leaning forward as though he thinks he could catch it and I lunge toward him, kneeing him straight in the face before kicking him in the stomach and sending him flying to the ground.