Sherlock - The Game Is On!

The Six Thatchers- Eleven

Chapter Eleven

Third POV

Rain is pours, there's lightning and thunder. Somebody wearing a raincoat with the hood pulled up over their head walks along a path towards a church, lighting the way with a flashlight. The person makes their way to a small wooden door with 'NO ENTRY' stencilled on it in red. Graffiti just under the message reads 'GwJ.' Near the bottom of the door, someone has spray-painted a white circle with an 'I' inside it. The person pushes open the door and goes inside, closing the door again.

Walking into a small vault, they find that it has been set up as a home-from-home: there's a tatty sofa and a couple of hard plastic chairs, and a couple of desks, one of which has an open laptop and anglepoise lamp on it. A few other lights are dotted around the room but it's still quite dark in there. The person pushes back the hood of their coat. "I am an idiot. I know nothing." Sherlock mutters. "Well, I've been telling you that for ages! That was quite a text you sent me. She smiles at him then Michelle before looking around the vault. "What's going on, guys?"

"I was so convinced it was Moriarty, I couldn't see what was right under my nose." Mary's smile fades and she looks to them worriedly. "Sherlock expected a pearl." Michelle holds out the memory stick. Mary stares in shock and then walks quickly towards them. "Oh my God. That's a..."

"Yes, it's an AGRA memory stick like you gave John, except this one belongs to someone else."

"Who?" Michelle questions. With eyes still glued to the object in hand, Mary replies: "I don't know. We-we all had one, but the others w... Well, haven't you even looked at it yet?"

"We glanced at it, but I'd prefer to hear it from you."

"Why?"

"Because I'll know the truth when I hear it."

"Oh, Sherlock." Mary turns around in exasperation. She walks a few paces away from the pair and then turns back to face them. "Michelle was right."

"Right about what?" Sherlock questions, glancing to Michelle. "There were four of us. Agents."

"Not just agents." Michelle spoke. "Polite term. Alex; Gabriel; Me and Ajay." She points to the device. "There was absolute trust between us. The memory sticks guaranteed it. We all had one, each containing aliases, our background, everything. We could never be betrayed because we had everything we needed to destroy the other."

"Who employed you?"

"It would be anyone who paid well. I researched you." Michelle stated. She began to pace with hands clasped against her chin. "You we're at the top of your game for years until Georgia." Mary nods to Michelle. "The British embassy in Tbilisi was taken over; Lots of hostages. We got the call to go in, get them out. There was a change of plan, a last-minute adjustment."

"Who from?"

"I don't know. Just another voice on the phone, and a code word, 'Ammo'"

"Ammo?"

"Like 'ammunition.' We went in, but then something went wrong. Something went really wrong. That was six years ago. Feels like forever. I was the only one that made it out."

"No." Sherlock and Michelle spoke simultaneously. "What?" Sherlock walks across to the table and picks up the laptop, putting the memory stick into the drive. "We met someone tonight: the same someone who's looking for the sixth Thatcher." He puts the laptop down on the other table, types on it and steps away as various photographs come up on the screen. Two of them seem to be surveillance photos, while the third is a photo ID badge of a journalist called Eshan Mohindra. All three pictures are of the man with whom Sherlock and Michelle fought earlier.

As Mary walks towards the laptop, a new photo comes up of the man. It and the previous two surveillance photos are marked 'AGRA - 3203 - 42673.' "Oh my God. That's Ajay. That's him. What, he's alive?"

"Yeah, very much so." Sherlock mutters, turning to Michelle and brushing a hand to her bruised eye. "I don't believe it! This is amazing! I thought I was the only one. I thought I was the only one who got out. Where is he? I need to see him now!"

"Before you gave it to John, did you keep your memory stick safe?"

"Yeah, of course. It was our insurance. Above all, they mustn't fall into enemy hands."

"So Ajay survived as well, and now he's looking for the memory stick he managed to hide with all of AGRA's old aliases on it. But why?" Michelle turns to Mary with a questioning eye. "I don't know!"

"Tbilisi was six years ago. Where's he been?" She looks down, thinking, then shakes her head, making a helpless sound. Sherlock pauses for a moment, then pulls in a breath. "Mary, we're sorry to tell you this, but he wants you dead." Mary begins to laugh in disbelief. "Sorry, no, no, because we-we were family."

"Families fall out." Michelle presses gently. "The memory stick is the easiest way to track you down. You're the only other survivor. It must be you that he wants, and he's already killed looking for the Thatcher bust."

"Well, he's just trying to find me. He survived. That's all that matters!"

"Mary, we heard it from his own mouth. 'Tell her she's a dead woman walking'." Mary frowns. "Why would he want to kill me?"

"He said you betrayed him."

"Oh, no, no, that's insane." She looks at the computer again, bewildered. "Well, it's what he believes." Mary lets out a long breath and sinks onto a chair. "I deduce that he was captured and tortured for information." Michelle spoke rapidly. "I suppose I was always afraid this might happen; That something in my past would come back to haunt me one day."

Sherlock puts his hand to his bruised ribs and turns away from her. "Yes, well he's a very tangible ghost."

"God, I just wanted a bit of peace, and I really thought I had it."

"No. Mary, you do. We'd made a vow, remember?" Michelle cooed. She stares up at them both. "To look after the three of you."

"Sherlock and Michelle. Thee dragon slayers."

"Stay close to us and we will keep you safe from him. I promise you." She looks thoughtful for a moment, then stands up. "There's something I think you should both read." They look towards the piece of paper she holds out. "What is it?"

"I hoped I wouldn't have to do this." She puts the paper into his bare hand and watches him as he unfolds it, holding it in both hands. Immediately his vision starts to go fuzzy. "What are you..."

"Mary?" Michelle questions firmly. Sherlock lifts the paper to his nose and sniffs deeply. He gasps and starts to wobble. "Mary." He whispers. Michelle begins to fret a little before Mary knocks her unconscious. "I'm sorry." Mary begins to support Sherlock as he totters and falls onto the chair behind him. "There you go."

"Oh, no. Michelle?"

"It's all right. She will be alright. It's for the best, believe me."

"No." While he struggles to stay conscious, Mary goes to the laptop and removes the memory stick. Pulling her hood up over her head, she hurries to the doorway, her voice faint and echoing. "You just look after them until I get back. I'm sorry." Sherlock sighs out a breath, his eyes starting to close. He turns his head and looks to Michelle sprawled on the floor. "I'm so sorry." Mary's voice rings out. She turns and looks back at him briefly before disappearing from view. Sherlock's vision whites out.

Inside his head, the distant sound of a young child singing can be heard. A child, only fuzzily visible and with his back to us is wearing red trousers rolled up to the knees, a yellow jumper, a dark blue pirate's hat on his head and yellow plimsolls or shoes and he's carrying a yellow plastic sword as he skips away through the shallows on a beach.

Nearby a wet Irish setter, with a purple bandana tied around his neck, watches the boy. Sat beside the dog is a image that repeatedly flickers between a dog and a little girl. Then someone wearing a pair of red wellington boots can be seen running along the pebble beach. The perspective changes and, while the child's voice continues to sing, we see the pirate boy trotting away from us alongside a stream followed by the other boy who is wearing red wellingtons, blue jeans and a checked shirt. The memory whites out.