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mekachu04Lestrade held Sherlock back, the consulting detective focused only on the prize-the wiring holding up his blogger rigged to the explosive charges around the room, and too easily tripped...
Lestrade could see it plainly, but how to untangle John without blowing the whole building escaped him. Finally Sherlock stilled in his grip, falling heavy against the DI. Lestrade could see his friend regaining his composure, could almost hear the quick mind whirling as he studied the rigging.
There was a soft scuff behind them; lestrade flat against Sherlock s back as he scanned the shadows
"Well this is a turn up...."
It was perhaps the only thing that could get Sherlock to turn his back to an injured John.
Two men stood in the shadows. Moriarty's man was a half step behind him, steady rifle aimed at the two Detectives, face hidden by the firearm and the dark.
"I received an anonymous text to come here tonight. It said I'd find a gift-Sherlock Holmes.... all tied up with a bow."
The man's face twisted, angry and dark. "/I/ don't get anonymous anything."
To Sherlock's disappointment, nothing about his opponent's face showed deception. Moriarty was looking past him now, studying his strung up blogger, never taking his eyes off, but tilting his head to regard his arm man. "Sebby, be a dear and cut the Good Doctor down for Sherlock."
The rifleman surprisingly/didn't/move, stayed unwavering at Moriarty's side.
"Moran!"
The gun lowered, held out for Moriarty to take-the madman shouldering the rifle second naturedly.
"yeah boss.." The man's voice was eerily familiar, Lestrade ramrod straight at Sherlock's side as Sebastion Moran moved forward, head down as he fumbled with the contents of his shoulder bag.
Sebastion Moran, only son of military minded Ander Moran, and one of the shining stars of New Scotland Yard's forensics team. A brilliant man planted to subtly direct his boss' handy work away from him, who had been conning the Great Sherlock Holmes for nearly five years.
Lestrade could see it plainly, but how to untangle John without blowing the whole building escaped him. Finally Sherlock stilled in his grip, falling heavy against the DI. Lestrade could see his friend regaining his composure, could almost hear the quick mind whirling as he studied the rigging.
There was a soft scuff behind them; lestrade flat against Sherlock s back as he scanned the shadows
"Well this is a turn up...."
It was perhaps the only thing that could get Sherlock to turn his back to an injured John.
Two men stood in the shadows. Moriarty's man was a half step behind him, steady rifle aimed at the two Detectives, face hidden by the firearm and the dark.
"I received an anonymous text to come here tonight. It said I'd find a gift-Sherlock Holmes.... all tied up with a bow."
The man's face twisted, angry and dark. "/I/ don't get anonymous anything."
To Sherlock's disappointment, nothing about his opponent's face showed deception. Moriarty was looking past him now, studying his strung up blogger, never taking his eyes off, but tilting his head to regard his arm man. "Sebby, be a dear and cut the Good Doctor down for Sherlock."
The rifleman surprisingly/didn't/move, stayed unwavering at Moriarty's side.
"Moran!"
The gun lowered, held out for Moriarty to take-the madman shouldering the rifle second naturedly.
"yeah boss.." The man's voice was eerily familiar, Lestrade ramrod straight at Sherlock's side as Sebastion Moran moved forward, head down as he fumbled with the contents of his shoulder bag.
Sebastion Moran, only son of military minded Ander Moran, and one of the shining stars of New Scotland Yard's forensics team. A brilliant man planted to subtly direct his boss' handy work away from him, who had been conning the Great Sherlock Holmes for nearly five years.
