BASKERVILLE.
Stapleton leads Sherlock, Vaness and John along a corridor and uses her card to swipe them into a large room which has Major Barrymore's office in the corner. As they go into the room, Sherlock points back to the door they just came through.
"John." He said.
"Yeah, I'm on it." John replied.
He turns back to keep an eye on the door while Stapleton goes over to sit down at a computer. Vaness was back to her old self.
"Project HOUND. Must have read about it and stored it away. An experiment in a CIA facility in Liberty, Indiana." Sherlock said.
He stands behind Stapleton while she types her User ID onto the computer, then adds her password. A request to "Enter Search String" comes up and she looks up at Sherlock who dictates the letters.
"H, O, U, N, D." Sherlock spelled out.
She types in the letters and hits Enter. A message comes up saying "NO ACCESS. CIA Classified" and requesting an authorisation code.
"That's as far as my access goes, I'm afraid." Stapleton said.
"Well, there must be an override and password." John replied.
"I imagine so, but that'd be Major Barrymore's." Stapleton said.
Sherlock spins around and walks into Barrymore's office. Vaness could just tell them, but Stapleton was there and that would be a problem. She followed Sherlock but stayed on the doorway.
"Password, password, password." Sherlock said repeatedly.
Switching on the lights in the room he sits down at the desk.
"He sat here when he thought it up." Sherlock said.
Folding his hands in front of his mouth, he slowly spins a full circle on the chair, looking around the office as he goes. Stapleton comes to the doorway, to Vaness' right.
"Describe him to me." Sherlock told Stapleton.
"You've seen him." Stapleton replied.
"But describe him." Sherlock said.
"Er, he's a bloody martinet, a throw-back, the sort of man they'd have sent into Suez." Stapleton told him.
"Good, excellent. Old-fashioned, traditionalist; not the sort that would use his children's names as a password." He gestures towards the children's drawings pinned on the board above the desk.
"He loves his job; proud of it and this is work-related, so what's at eye level?" Sherlock asked himself.
He rapidly scans around everything in the room without altering the angle of his eyes.
"Books." He said gesturing to the right
"Jane's Defence Weekly - bound copies." He said pointing to the left
He looks to the right again and at the subject matter of some of the books on the bookshelf.
"Hannibal; Wellington; Rommel; Churchill's 'History of the English-Speaking Peoples' - all four volumes."
He stands up and looks at a bronze bust on a shelf.
"Churchill - well, he's fond of Churchill. Copy of 'The Downing Street Years'; one, two, three, four, five separate biographies of Thatcher." Sherlock said.
He looks down to a framed photograph on the desk of a man in uniform standing with his teenage son.
"Mid 1980s at a guess. Father and son: Barrymore senior. Medals: Distinguished Service Order." He looks around to John who has come to the office door.
"That date? I'd say Falklands veteran." John said from behind Vaness.
"Right. So Thatcher's looking a more likely bet than Churchill." Sherlock said.
He walks out of the office, grabbing Vaness and smiling smugly at her, and heads back towards the computer.
"So that's the password?" Stapleton asked following them.
"No. With a man like Major Barrymore, only first name terms would do."Sherlock said.
Leaning down to the keyboard, he starts to type Margaret Thatcher's first name into the "Auth code" box but stops when he reaches the penultimate letter. He narrows his eyes and deletes everything back to the first letter, then retypes it as "Maggie". Looking into the screen and gritting his teeth ever so slightly, he hits Enter. The computer beeps happily and announces "OVERRIDE 300/421 ACCEPTED. Loading ..."
John comes over from the door to look at the screen. After a slight pause information begins to stream across the screen as everything related to Project H.O.U.N.D. becomes available. Sherlock's concentration becomes intense while he takes it all in, focusing on certain phrases like "extreme suggestibility," "fear and stimulus," "conditioned terror," "aerosol dispersal." A photograph comes up of the project team posing happily together and he identifies the five project leaders amongst the larger group: Elaine Dyson, Mary Uslowski, Rick Nader, Jack O'Mara and Leonard Hansen. Clearing the photo from the screen he rearranges the names into another order:
Leonard Hansen
Jack O'Mara
Mary Uslowski
Rick Nader
Elaine Dyson
Standing to his left, Doctor Stapleton finally begins to understand.
"HOUND." Stapleton said.
They stare at the screen in growing horror as more information from the project appears and words and phrases are highlighted such as "Paranoia," "Severe frontal lobe damage," "Blood-brain," "Gross cranial trauma," "Dangerous acceleration," "Multiple homicide," accompanied by photographs of some of the subjects of the project screaming insanely.
"Jesus." John said softly.
"Project HOUND: a new deliriant drug which rendered its users incredibly suggestible. They wanted to use it as an anti-personnel weapon to totally disorientate the enemy using fear and stimulus; but they shut it down and hid it away in 1986." Sherlock said still scanning the information as it flows across the screen.
"Because of what it did to the subjects they tested it on." Stapleton said.
"And what they did to others. Prolonged exposure drove them insane - made them almost uncontrollably aggressive." Sherlock said. He looked thoughtful for a second, looking at Vaness. "How did it get in your system?"
Vaness looked surprised. Sherlock turned his head to the computer again, scanning the screen quickly, then he reads it.
"Aerosol disposal." Sherlock turned to Vaness, "the pipes."
Vaness nodded but she was still confused, that wasn't suppose to happen.
"So someone's been doing it again - carrying on the experiments?" John asked.
"Attempting to refine it, perhaps, for the last twenty years." Sherlock said.
"Who?" Stapleton asked.
John nods at the screen, indicating the names of the project leaders.
"Those names mean anything to you?" John asked.
"No, not a thing." Stapleton replied.
"Five principal scientists, twenty years ago." Sherlock sighed.
He pulls up the photograph of the team and begins zooming in on individuals within it. The closer footage shows that they are all wearing identical sweatshirts. Looming out of a diamond pattern in the centre of the sweatshirts is a large snarling wolf's head and the legend "H.O.U.N.D." is printed underneath. There is some smaller text underneath but it's not yet clear what it says. Sherlock continues to zoom in and out of the photo to look more closely at the faces.
"Maybe our friend's somewhere in the back of the picture - someone who was old enough to be there at the time of the experiments in 1986 ..." Sherlock said
He stops when he sees a face he recognises, and rolls his eyes a little as he realises the truth.
"Maybe somebody who says "cell phone" because of time spent in America. You remember, John, Vaness?" He asked.
"Mm-hm." John replied.
"He gave us his number in case we needed him. " Sherlock said.
"Oh my God. Bob Frankland. But Bob doesn't even work on ... I mean, he's a virologist. This was chemical warfare." Stapleton said staring at the photo on the screen.
"It's where he started, though ... and he's never lost the certainty, the obsession that that drug really could work." Sherlock said.
Sherlock turned to look at Vaness and John,
"The room you two entered was the one he came from the first time we met him. Nice of him to give us his number." Sherlock continued.
He reaches into his pocket and takes out Frankland's card.
"Let's arrange a little meeting." He said.
He walks away from the computer. John walks closer to it and looks at the last image - a very tight close-up of one of the sweatshirts. Stitched below the "H.O.U.N.D." legend is the name of the American town and state where the project was based: "Liberty, In".
Just then John's phone begins to ring. He digs it out of his pocket and frowns at the number on the screen, apparently not recognising it. He answers.
"Hello?"
Initially the only sound he can hear is a woman crying.
"Who's this?" John asked.
"You've got to find Henry." Mortimer said tearfully, over the phone.
John looks round to Sherlock.
"It's Louise Mortimer. Louise, what's wrong?" John asked.
"Henry was ... was remembering; then ... he tried ..." Mortimer cried.
"He's got a gun. He went for the gun and tried to ..." she said.
"What?" John asked.
She breaks down in tears again.
"He's gone. You've got to stop him. I don't know what he might do." Mortimer said.
"Where-where are you?" John askes worriedly.
"His house. I'm okay, I'm okay." She replied.
"Right: stay there. We'll get someone to you, okay?" John said.
Lowering his phone, he begins to text.
"Henry?" Sherlock asked.
"He's attacked her." John said.
"Gone?" Sherlock asked.
"Mm." John replied.
"There's only one place he'll go to: back to where it all started. Lestrade. Get to the Hollow. ... Dewer's Hollow, now. And bring a gun." Sherlock said hitting a speed dial on his own phone.
Sherlock turned to Vaness and they ran. John followed closely behind them.
With the pistol still in his hand, Henry is walking briskly across the moors towards the woods surrounding Dewer's Hollow. Some distance behind him, Sherlock, Vaness and John race across the terrain in the Land Rover. Unaware of this, Henry continues onwards, stopping momentarily to stare tearfully at the woods ahead of him, but then he continues onwards. Not long afterwards Sherlock pulls up presumably where the woods begin and he, Vaness and John get out and continue on foot. Henry reaches the lip of the Hollow and begins to make his way down into the misty valley. Reaching the bottom he slows down and stumbles slowly forward, wandering around vaguely for a moment before coming to a halt.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Dad." Henry said softly.
Squatting down, he brings up the pistol and opens his mouth as he aims the muzzle towards it.
"No, Henry, no! No!" Sherlock yelled.
He, Vaness and John scramble down the slope, shining their torches towards him. Henry stands up and stumbles backwards, waving the pistol vaguely in their direction. His voice is high-pitched and hysterical.
"Get back. Get - get away from me!" Henry said.
"Easy, Henry. Easy. Just relax." John said.
"Henry please..." Vaness said softly.
"I know what I am. I know what I tried to do!" Henry yelled.
"Just put the gun down. It's okay." John said softly.
"No, no, I know what I am!" Henry shouted his voice hoarse with anguish.
"Yes, I'm sure you do, Henry. It's all been explained to you, hasn't it - explained very carefully." Sherlock said as reassuring as he'll ever sound.
"What?" Henry asked, turning to face him.
"Someone needed to keep you quiet; needed to keep you as a child to reassert the dream that you'd both clung on to, because you had started to remember." Sherlock explained.
He begins to step closer to the young man.
"Remember now, Henry. You've got to remember what happened here when you were a little boy." Sherlock continued.
Henry's gun hand begins to droop momentarily but then he raises it again, his face full of his struggle to understand.
"I thought it had got my dad - the hound. I thought ..." Henry said but he loses control and begins to scream in anguish.
"Oh Je... oh Jesus, I don't - I don't know any more!"
Sobbing, he bends forward and aims the muzzle into his mouth again.
"No, Henry! Henry, for God's sake!" John said loudly lurching forward towards him.
"Henry, remember. "Liberty In." Two words; two words a frightened little boy saw here twenty years ago." Sherlock said urgently.
Henry begins to calm a little but still remains hunched over with the gun's muzzle against his mouth.
"You'd started to piece things together, remember what really happened here that night. It wasn't an animal, was it, Henry?" Sherlock asked him.
Henry starts to straighten up, blinking.
"Not a monster." Sherlock said.
Henry turns to look at him.
"A man." Sherlock said
Henry's eyes widen as the memories begin to come. In brief flashes he starts to relive the truth. As he has always remembered, his father is scrabbling at the ground trying to get away from his attacker, but now for the first time Henry can see that what is pulling him backwards across the earth is not a creature but a man wearing a dark leather old-fashioned gas mask. The glass of the two large eye pieces is tinted a dark red and in the limited light available the eye pieces seem to be glowing. Young Henry watches from partway up the slope, cringing and terrified as the attacker pummels at his father, half strangling him and then punching wildly at his face. Mr Knight manages to pull himself from under his assailant and starts to crawl away but the other man, growling fiercely, tugs him backwards and Henry's father loses his balance and falls forward. His head strikes a rock and he collapses to the ground unmoving. Breathing heavily through the gas mask, the other man pokes at him, realises that he isn't going to move again and gets to his feet. He looks down at the man he has just killed and young Henry sees the sweatshirt he is wearing, with its picture of a snarling wolf-like creature, the letters "H.O.U.N.D." underneath and "Liberty, In" below them. Young Henry's mind begins to mix everything up and, some hours later when he meets the old lady walking her dog, his new horror is complete and he screams in utter terror.
In the present he gapes at Sherlock as the truth reasserts itself in his mind.
"You couldn't cope. You were just a child, so you rationalised it into something very different. But then you started to remember, so you had to be stopped; driven out of your mind so that no-one would believe a word that you said." Sherlock told him.
Quietly John steps forward, holding out his hand encouragingly towards Henry as Greg Lestrade arrives and calls out while he trots down the slope towards them.
"Sherlock!" Lestrade called out.
"Okay, it's okay, mate." John said softly to Henry.
He carefully takes the pistol from Henry's fingers. Henry speaks tearfully to Sherlock.
"But we saw it: the hound, last night. We s... we, we, wedid, we saw ..." Henry was saying.
"Yeah, but there was a dog, Henry, leaving footprints, scaring witnesses, but it was nothing more than an ordinary dog. We both saw it - saw it as our drugged minds wanted us to see it. Fear and stimulus; that's how it works." Sherlock explained.
Henry stares at him in confusion. Sherlock returns his look sympathetically.
"But there never was any monster." Sherlock said.
The hound has different ideas, however, and now its anguished howl rings out in the woods above them. Everyone's head snaps up and John, Vaness and Greg aim their flashlights upwards to the top of the Hollow where a low shape can be seen slowly stalking along the rim and snarling.
"Greg explain now!" Vaness yelled.
Greg looked panicked.
"I left them to the vet, hours ago. They were talking about it already." He explained hastily.
Vaness turned to look at him incredulously.
"You left them?" She asked.
"I'm sorry." Greg replied sincerely.
Henry turns to Sherlock, horrified.
"No. No, no, no, no!" He wails in panic.
He backs away as Sherlock tries simultaneously to hold out a calming hand towards him while keeping his own torch shining up towards the creature above them.
"Henry, Henry ..." Sherlock said softly.
"Sherlock ... " John saud.
The creature continues to slink along the rim of the Hollow as Henry begins to scream in abject terror. He crumples to his knees, continually screaming, "No!"
"Henry!" John called.
The hound turns towards the Hollow and looks down at everyone, snarling viciously. Its eyes glow in the torchlight as Henry continues to wail.
"Shit!" Greg exclaimed.
John turns and shines his torch into his face.
"Greg, are you seeing this?"
Greg glances at him momentarily and his expression answers the question. Sherlock takes a quick look around to the inspector to see his face before turning back to stare up at the hound.
"Right: he is not drugged, Sherlock, so what's that? What is it?!" John asked.
"It's just an ordinary dog, Henry, but your mind sees it differently." Sherlock said.
"Aerosal disposal." Vaness answered.
"It's the fog." Sherlock said.
Vaness, Sherlock, John and Greg covered their mouths and noses. The dog growls loudly. Henry continues to wail behind them. And now the hound turns and leaps a short way down the slope, its eyes flashing red in the torchlight.
"Oh, Christ!" Lestrade said.
John stares at it as it stops again, its red glowing eyes now clearly visible as it opens its mouth and reveals a mouthful of long pointed teeth that you would never see on any dog. Its snarl is completely terrifying. Henry has fallen silent, gazing up at it as if he knows that it is going to kill him shortly.
But now there's movement behind them. Sherlock looks over his shoulder and sees a tall human figure through the mist. The new arrival is wearing a breathing mask with a clear visor over his face. Sherlock turns and rushes towards him, grabbing at the mask and ripping it upwards to fully reveal the man's face ... and Jim Moriarty grins manically back at him.
"No!" Sherlock exclaimed staring at him in appalled horror.
Behind him the hound growls ominously again. Jim's expression becomes intense and murderous but then his head begins to distort and flail about, morphing between Jim's face and someone else's so quickly that it's impossible to keep up with the changes. Sherlock grimaces, groaning at the insanity going on in front of him while Jim's face keeps reasserting itself.
"It's not you! You're not here!" Sherlock said frantically.
Grabbing at the figure, he spins him around and then headbutts him in the face. The figure crumples slightly and raises his hand to his face as he straightens up ... and now the man in front of Sherlock is Bob Frankland. Sherlock clings onto his jacket, his breathing panicked and frantic. The hound stalks closer to the group, snarling.
"For God's sake, kill it! Kill it!" Frankland yelled.
The hound's movements become more jittery as if it's winding itself up to attack. Vaness didn't have a gun. Greg aims his pistol and fires three times at it. His bullets fly past it and it flinches momentarily but then rises up and leaps towards them. John's aim is truer and his bullets strike the hound accurately and throw it backwards. It squeals in pain and crashes to the ground, unmoving. John and Greg watch it anxiously for any signs of movement, and Sherlock runs over to Henry and pushes him towards the hound.
"Look at it, Henry." Sherlock said.
"No, no, no!" Henry protested digging his heels to the ground.
"Come on, look at it!" Sherlock said shoving him forward determinedly.
He pulls the young man forward until they can both clearly see it lying on the ground. In Sherlock's torchlight it is evidently nothing more than a huge dog. Henry stares at it for a moment and then turns back to where Frankland is still holding his injured face while Greg has his hands over his mouth as he tries to draw breath and come to terms with what he just experienced. Henry looks at Frankland.
"It's just ... You bastard." Henry said.
Hurling himself at the older man, he screams with rage.
"You bastard!" Henry yelled.
Bundling him to the ground, he screams into his face while John and Greg run over and try to pull him off.
"Twenty years! Twenty years of my life making no sense! Why didn't you just kill me?!" Henry yells, his voice breaking.
Finally the others manage to pull him up.
"Because dead men get listened to. He needed to do more than kill you. He had to discredit every word you ever said about your father, and he had the means right at his feet - a chemical minefield; pressure pads in the ground dosing you up every time that you came back here." Sherlock explained.
He holds his arms out wide and spins slowly in a circle, gesturing around the Hollow.
"Murder weapon and scene of the crime all at once." Sherlock said.
He laughs with delight.
"Oh, this case, Henry! Thank you. It's been brilliant." Sherlock said, Vaness didn't bother to reprimand him.
"Sherlock ..." John said.
"What?" Sherlock looked at him.
John glares at him pointedly.
"Timing." John said.
"Not good?" Sherlock asked.
"No, no, it's - it's okay. It's fine, because this means ... " Henry said.
He starts to step towards Frankland. John moves with him, ready to intervene if he should try to attack him again. Vaness meanwhile, was keeping an eye on Frankland.
" ... this means that my dad was right." Henry said.
Frankland gets up onto his knees as Henry still tries to move towards him. John and Greg both put a gentle hand onto his shoulders to keep him back.
"He found something out, didn't he, and that's why you'd killed him - because he was right, and he'd found you right in the middle of an experiment." Henry said tearfully.
Frankland gets to his feet but before he can say anything there's a savage snarl from behind the group. Everybosy but Vaness spins towards the dog. The dog whines in pain but gets up off the ground. John aims and fires towards it twice and it goes down again. Frankland takes the opportunity of the distraction to turn and run off in the opposite direction. Like the single-minded idiot that he is, Sherlock runs right across John's line of fire, forcing him to lower his pistol, and chases off after the scientist.
Vaness was faster. She ran fast, after Frankland, passing Sherlock. Soon she was near Frankland, and with all the force of her body, she knocks him down to the ground.
"Frankland!" Sherlock yells.
He came running. He stops and holds Frankland down, allowing Vaness to get up. Soon John and Greg catches up. John checks over Vaness before helping Sherlock and Greg secure Frankland with handcuffs. Henry came running.
"You bastard!" Henry yelled.
John hold him back.
"It's okay now. He'll pay for what he's done." John said.
DAY TIME. CROSS KEYS INN.
John was seating in a table outside of the Crosskeys Inn. Vaness was sitting infront of him. Billy comes in, holding a tray with three plates of food. He places it on their table.
"Thank you." John said.
Sherlock came from behind John, holding two mugs of coffee and he gives John the other. Sherlock sits next to Vaness, frowning at his plate.
"Your case is over now you need to eat properly." Vaness told him sternly.
Reluctantly, Sherlock did what he was told.
"So they didn't have it put down, then - the dog." Sherlock said.
"Obviously. Suppose they just couldn't bring themselves to do it." John said tucking into his breakfast
"I see." Sherlock replied.
"No you don't." John said.
"No, I don't. Sentiment?" Sherlock asked.
"Sentiment!" John said, "though when it comes to Vaness..." John looks at Vaness, grinning.
Vaness rolled her eyes, "Oh shut up, Sherlock loves you too." Vaness said teasingly.
Sherlock rolled his eyes at both of them, but both John and Vaness noticed his small smile.
"So John," Vaness said, "do you want to know what happened in the lab?" She asked.
Sherlock glares at her.
"Sherlock said it was the pipes." John said with a frown.
"D'you want some sauce with that?" Sherlock suddenly asked him.
John looked thoughtful for a moment.
"Hang on: you thought it was in the sugar." John turned to Sherlock.
Sherlock stares at him while trying to maintain a neutral expression.
"You were convinced it was in the sugar." John said.
Sherlock looks away again.
"Better get going, actually. There's a train that leaves in half an hour, so if you want ..." Sherlock looks at his watch to avoid John's eyes.
John turns his head away as he begins to realise the horrible truth.
"Oh God. It was you. You locked us in that bloody lab." John said.
"I had to. It was an experiment." Sherlock explained.
"An experiment?! You could've just asked Vaness." John then turned to look at Vaness.
"Well, I did asked both of you but..." Vaness lets herself trail off.
John sighs, remembering.
"I was terrified, Sherlock. I was scared to death. Vaness almost had a panic attack." John turned back to Sherlock.
"I thought that the drug was in the sugar, so I put the sugar in your coffee, then I arranged everything with Major Barrymore. Vaness did try to convince me but I bargained with her, I let her be with you." Sherlock explained.
John sighs in exasperation.
"It was all totally scientific, laboratory conditions - well, literally." Sherlock said.
"Well, I knew what effect it had had on a superior mind, so I needed to try it on an average one." Sherlock continued.
John looks up from his plate.
"You know what I mean." Sherlock said.
John gets back to eating.
"But it wasn't in the sugar." John said.
"No, well, I wasn't to know you'd already been exposed to the gas." Sherlock replied.
"So you got it wrong." John told him.
"Yes." Sherlock answered and both Vaness and John looks at him in surprise. "A bit." Sherlock said, he turned to John, then to Vaness, staring at her, "It won't happen again."
Vaness smiled at him. John was smiling, teasing her.
"Any long-term effects?" John asked.
"None at all. You'll be fine once you've excreted it. We all will." Sherlock said and they went back to eating.
"Think I might have taken care of that already." John said.
Sherlock and Vaness snorts laughter, then they look across to a nearby table where Gary is pouring coffee for two other customers. He smiles apologetically across to Sherlock. Sherlock takes one last bite and stands up. Vaness followed suit.
"Where're you going?" John asked them.
"Won't be a minute. Gotta see a man about a dog." Sherlock said.
"And I think I have to be there, a Vet and all that." Vaness told him.
Smiling down at John, they turn and walk away, hand in hand.
Jim Moriarty sits silently and calmly with his eyes closed in the middle of a small windowless concrete-lined cell. In an adjoining room, Mycroft walks towards the other side of the one-way mirror which Jim is facing, and narrows his eyes as he looks closely at the other man.
Some time afterwards, the door to the cell is unlocked and Jim opens his eyes but does not turn around as Mycroft walks in.
Later, Mycroft has left the cell again. A man in a suit has opened the cell door and has walked inside.
"All right. Let him go." Mycroft's voice could be heard.
Jim turns and casually strolls out of the cell. Behind him, the man turns and looks around the room. On almost every plain concrete panel of the walls, Jim has somehow carved a single word into the cement. In different sizes and at different angles, the word repeats all around the cell - and the word is SHERLOCK.
And with the dust which was loosened by the carving, Jim has scratched Sherlock's name backwards on the mirror so that whoever is watching him from the other side of the mirror will see the name the right way round.
The man in the suit turns and walks away, closing the cell door behind him.